Page 38 of When Forever Stays

I duck just in time and put my hands up. “I don’t blame you.”

It looks as though he’s winding up for another swing but stops. A menacing smile turns up his lips.

“You’re not worth it.” Then he backs slowly away, not turning from me until he’s opening the door to the café.

I’m clenching my fists so hard I can feel my short nails digging into my palms. After getting back into my truck, I slam the door and try the ignition. This time, it turns over, and I peel out ofthe parking lot, hating myself for breaking Dana Swann’s heart…again.

Less than a mile from my hut, smoke pours out of the hood of my truck. I can’t see a thing, so I look out my side window and pull over. I thought it was just being temperamental earlier. Clearly, I was wrong.

When I step out, the skies open, and it’s as if Dana has control of the weather and chose this moment to rain down her fury on me. Thunder cracks moments before lightning stretches across the sky. I go to open the door but discover my automatic locks kicked in, successfully locking my cell phone inside.

“Just perfect,” I mutter under my breath.

I start my trek down the road, praying that lightning doesn’t take me out before I make it home.

Several cars speed past, splashing me with dirty street water. It’s only been minutes, but it feels as if I’ve been trudging through this storm for years. How many times did I tell myself to tell Dana about my past? About who I am–or was?

I regret hiding my identity from Dana but I don’t regret hiding it from everyone at the resort. After being hounded by the media for years, pouring my soul into my music, and making the fans happy, I wanted a normal life. Which meant I needed to keep my identity to myself. Even though Amber Island is private, it didn’t mean my identity wouldn’t be used by someone with bad intentions and I’d be back to where I started. No one in my new life needed to know. But Dana deserved to. I was just too afraidto tell her, especially after she told me Phantom Echoes—my claim to fame—was her favorite band.

When I was in the band and living a life of sin, all I needed to do was share my stage name and women flocked to me. Then I met Dana, and we connected on a level deeper than I've connected with anyone before and I didn’t want to ruin it. It could have—would have—changed things once she realized who I once was. Would she be falling for me, Rhett Stryker? Or my famous persona, RJ Hemlock?

It was truly a miracle she didn’t recognize me from the start. And Dana liked me, Rhett Stryker, for me. I didn’t want her to look at me differently than she did. Now I don’t know if she’ll ever even look at me again.

I close my eyes, not caring if I trip or fall. Everything inside of me aches. Who I was and who I am are two completely different people. Will I ever live down my past as RJ Hemlock? Or will I exist in the shadow of my sins forever?

The only good that came out of that sinful lifestyle was my son. A son I didn't know existed until his mom called me out of nowhere, beyond desperate for hope. This wasn’t how I planned on having children, but my life has been a series of unexpected blessings and consequences. Which has proven to be even more true through my recent circumstances.

As the storm rains down on me, I open myself to every heartbreak I’ve ever felt, praying God uses this downpour to wash it all away.

It was raining the night I went to the hospital for surgery too. The rain was a big part of the song I wrote for Oscar. The song was unlike any other I’ve ever written or performed. I pouredout everything I had, the love I didn’t know I could have for someone I barely knew. The gratefulness I feel knowing he’s healthy after a life-threatening illness. How much I want to build a relationship with him and make up for lost time.

But I haven’t heard a word. He hasn’t spoken to me since he woke up in the hospital and the doctors told him everything looked promising. Oscar turned on his side, faced me in my own hospital bed, and thanked me for donating part of my liver. Before I could even say “You’re welcome,” he had turned back over, put his earphones in, and completely ignored me.

I’ve called him for months and he refuses to talk to me. Despite sharing my DNA, Oscar is still a stranger. Someone I desperately want to get to know yet who hates me. I don’t know how to fix my relationship with him. Or how to fix my relationship with Dana.

I can’t tell if the wetness on my cheeks is from the rain or tears. Probably a mixture of both. I haven’t cried since my mom’s funeral, but if any moment warrants tears, I think this one does.

A car slows to a stop beside me. The mechanical sound of a window opening has me turning my head.

“Rhett? What are you doing walking out here alone in the rain? Are you lost?” Dr. Woodhouse says with genuine concern.

I shake my head.

“Get in.” He pushes the door open from the driver’s side.

“I don’t want to ruin your seats,” I find myself protesting.

“Forget my seats. I don’t want to see you back at the hospital with pneumonia.”

I relent, sliding into the car and closing the door.

He checks his mirrors and pulls back onto the road.

“Care to tell me why you’re wandering the streets while we’re in the middle of a tropical storm?”

“Well, I kept the fact that I’m the lead singer of Dana’s favorite band a secret from her since I met her and she just found out through Crew when I should have come clean a long time ago.”

“Why did you keep that a secret?” he asks.

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