Page 9 of Until the End

“Nooooo.” Carson groans as he flops over into the pillows. “I thought I had an ally. When did you switch sides?”

I giggle at his dramatics. “When they cast Ben Affleck as Batman. He’s not polished enough to do Bruce Wayne justice.”

“But he got jacked for that role. It fits so much better with the comics than Christian Bale’s version.”

I roll my eyes. “There are two competing sides to Bruce Wayne: the playboy billionaire and the crime-fighting vigilante. Ben Affleck just looked like a brute.”

“I’m so disappointed in you right now.” Carson bites into a Twizzler rope as the Zack Snyder cut ofThe Justice Leagueplays on the TV. Shopping bags litter the floor of our hotel room, filled with clothes, toiletries, and more snacks than we’ll ever be able to eat. Carson went all out for our night in, and I couldn’t love him more. I’m also incredibly grateful he’s kept all the questions I see swirling in his eyes to himself. He hasn’t asked me a single thing about what happened.

I’ll tell him. I just need a little time to distance myself from the avalanche of emotions I’m wading through.

I should’ve left my phone off like Carson suggested. The texts from my manager and Wesley just about broke me while Carson was checking us into the hotel. I tried to stop thinking about them while we shopped today, but now that we’re relaxing in the room, my brain has been running a mile a minute.

Cecelia called me a drama queen and told me I was ruining the best thing to ever happen to me. As if getting married could compare to becoming a world-famous singer. Especially not to a man willing to cheat on his soon-to-be wife.

No, my manager’s texts sucked, but they were nothing compared to Wesley’s. At first, his messages were full of concern, asking where I was, begging me to get in touch with him so he knew I was okay, and saying my family was worried about me. Then the texts turned mean. Telling me I was a spoiled brat looking for attention, and I’d regret walking away from him. He called me a frigid bitch, and said he was glad he wouldn’t have to force himself to fuck me every day.

When that didn’t get a response from me, he turned to demanding I call him immediately or he’d go to the press and tell them I cheated on him. I almost caved at that threat, but then Carson opened the door to the Jeep, and I turned my phone off completely.

The craziest thing is that I don’t care if Wesley goes to the press with some made-up story. I don’t care if my singing career is over and I’ll never get to go on stage again. I don’t care about any of it anymore.

The first couple years of being on the road with my band and touring across the country were amazing. I loved every second of it. But somewhere along the line, things changed. I started dating Wesley, and Cecelia became my new manager. The spotlight on me went from warm and inviting to ice-coldand scary. With distance, I can see how I let a lot of this happen. I could’ve stood up for myself at any point, but I never did. I thought they knew what was best for me. I thought they had my best interests at heart.

I was wrong.

Snuggling down into the blankets, I lay my head on Carson’s shoulder. I need the reminder that I have a whole host of people who love me, whether I’m famous or not. Carson wraps his arm around my shoulder and pulls me into his chest, and I squeeze his waist in a silent thank you as we watch the end credits begin to roll on the TV. The movie had just started when I was scrolling through the channels. It was a no-brainer to watch it since Carson and I have seen every single superhero movie ever made.

“You pick a show now,” I say against Carson’s chest.

“Let’s just see what’s on next.” Carson runs his hand up and down my spine in soothing strokes, and my eyelids begin to droop.

“I love you, Duck,” I murmur.

Carson kisses the top of my head. “I love you, too, Goose.”

With those words of comfort, I drift off into the most restful night’s sleep I’ve had in a while.

I closemy eyes against the warm wind blowing into my face. The ocean provides peaceful background noise to the thoughts rolling around my head.

It was a great surprise when we found a patio behind our blackout curtains instead of just a window this morning. We’ve been picking at our room service breakfast for the last hour. The silence is heavy as Carson waits me out. He wants to talk about the wedding escape. I want to talk about it, too,but I’d like to enjoy this moment of calm for a few more minutes.

Once I say the words out loud, there’s no going back.

Another sip of my sugary-sweet coffee brings me life. “So…what are we doing today?”

“Ginny…” Carson practically growls.

I laugh. “I’m sorry. I couldn’t help it. Things were too tense.”

“It’s time to talk, Goose.”

With a sigh, I place my cup on the glass table. “Yeah, okay.” I face Carson head-on, ready to spill my secrets. Time and distance have brought a metric ton of clarity. I didn’t have a great epiphany; I just finally accepted the truth about what happened to me. I’m ashamed I let things go as far as they did, but being in the thick of it never allowed me to think beyond getting through the day.

I want to hold these secrets to my chest because if I say them out loud, I have to acknowledge my part in the story. The knowledge that Carson would never judge me is the only reason I can share them at all.

I open my mouth to speak, but no words come out. “I have no idea where to start.”

Carson’s eyebrows rise. “Where to start? I was hoping you’d tell me why you ran away from your wedding, but maybe from the very beginning would be better.”

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