Page 25 of Not Another Rockstar
He felt his conscience shaking his head, but he flipped to the final entry, to make sure it wasn’t Cillian professing his undying love for another woman. He set aside his morals and started reading.
I’m going to tell Phoebe. The lads in AA said that I should come clean. That if I’m serious about my sobriety I need to stop sabotaging our relationship and confront my mistakes. I don’t know how to tell her, I love her so much, and I hate myself for what I’ve put her through. If I’d told her sooner about the cheating, then things wouldn’t have got so out of control. How am I supposed to tell her that I’m going to be a dad? How can I even be a dad when I can’t look after myself?
Fuck, Nick will kill me, and I don’t blame him. I promised him that I’d look after her, that I’d never break her trust. He promised not to tell Phoebe about the cheating if I came clean, but he doesn’t know about the baby. I can’t fire Helen to keep them from finding out, but I’ve already made sure she and the kid are set up. I feel like the shittiest person alive. Once the tour is over, I’ll tell Phoebe. I’ll tell them all everything.
The worst part is that someone already knows. They’re taunting me. Someone left a baby grow in my dressing room with a ‘world’s best dad’ slogan. I thought it was Axel, but if he’d found out about the baby, he’d make me confess. There is no way he would tell Phoebe, he wouldn’t want to be the messenger that breaks her heart. I see the way he looks at her, like he’s waiting to swoop in and be the fucking hero. Maybe I should let him. She deserves better.
Fuck, the paranoia is driving me crazy, and Anita won’t stop nagging me to FIX IT. I would if I fucking could. What if this someone tells Phoebe before I get the chance? I can’t lose her; I can’t lose any of them…
Axel slapped the notebook shut.He wasn’t surprised by Cillian’s accusations about his feelings for Phoebe, but Helen’s pregnancy felt like a gut punch. So that was why he couldn’t end it with her.
He couldn’t bring this to the others; there were too many unanswered questions, and with the funeral in two days, he couldn’t drop the bomb now. He hoped Helen would keep it quiet, but then it struck him.
The will reading. Now it made sense why she was attending. Cillian might’ve been a prick, but he would make sure his kid was looked after.
He grabbed the suit and closed Cillian’s bedroom door behind him. In the safety of his basement, he placed Cillian’s journal in his bedside drawer with Phoebe’s notebook. He stared at the closed drawer and contemplated whether he should give the books back to Phoebe, but this was not the week to do it.Unlike Cillian believed, he didn’t delight in being the bearer of bad news, especially not when it was going to hurt those he cared about most.
With heavy rain and grey skies, it was the perfect day for a funeral. Once the coffin was in the ground, they all bundled into their cars in a sea of black umbrellas and went on to Cillian’s mum’s house. The door was left open for visitors to come and go as they pleased. There were plenty of corners to hide in, but Phoebe couldn’t escape the sympathetic smiles. They only made her angry. The cold caused her hand to ache, and her painkillers were wearing off as she stood in the cramped hallway.
“I’m so sorry for your loss. I can’t even imagine the heartbreak you must be feeling,” Cillian’s cousin Martha said, but Phoebe couldn’t stop staring at the spinach stuck in her teeth. “We were so looking forward to your wedding—you were perfect together. I can’t believe you aren’t going to be part of our family.”
She sniffled, and Phoebe offered her a tissue from the table by the stairs.
“It’s a loss for all of us.”
Phoebe tuned out the rest of her condolences, looking to the couch where Cillian’s mum sat with a tissue pressed to her nose as her extended family comforted her. They talked in hushed tones, and her throat tightened when she recalled the last time she’d seen his mum. It was when they’d told her about their engagement. The urge to turn around and bolt down the hallway became overwhelming.
She interrupted Martha’s rambling. “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to check on my brother.”
“Yes, please do whatever you need.” Martha’s sudden embrace stilled her. “Look after yourself. We’re all thinking of you, and please know we don’t believe a word the press is saying. We know you wouldn’t have done anything to hurt Cillian.”
Phoebe clenched her teeth to stop herself from biting Martha’s head off. Walking away down the small hallway, she kept her head low so no one would stop her to offer their condolences. The crowded kitchen stank of pre-made casseroles and cakes, and nearly brought her breakfast back up.
Out in the garden, she didn’t care about the rain. Down the side of the house, she heard August playing to keep his mind busy in the garage-slash-rehearsal space. It had been their hangout since Cillian’s thirteenth birthday, when he and Nick first decided they were going to start a band.
Opening the door, she expected to find the comfort she needed. Instead, Phoebe froze as she came face to face with Nick and Helen.
“I’m not leaving!” Helen barked, shoving past Nick. Her voice reached a pitch only dogs could hear.
What the hell was she doing here? Phoebe hadn’t seen her in the church. From August’s guilty expression as he sat with Axel on the thrifted couch in the corner, she suspected they’d been keeping them away from each other.
She didn’t have time to speak before Helen got in her face. “He loved me. We were together for six months, but he couldn’t tell you. He couldn’t leave you until they released their next album. We both know why he couldn’t.”
Phoebe’s stomach dropped. Had Cillian told her about their songs? Luckily the others were too caught in all the other horrid stuff she was spouting to take notice.
She couldn’t think with Helen continuing to rant in her face.Shut up, shut up, shut up! Today isn’t about you!Phoebe clenched her fists.
“Everyone is talking aboutpoor Phoebe—you killed him. He wouldn’t have been in that car if it weren’t for you, and my child wouldn’t have lost their father. We were going to be a family.”
Phoebe’s blood ran cold as the sobs dissolved the anger in Helen’s words. Axel was between them in seconds.
“Aren’t you going to say something?” Helen snapped as she tried to get around him. “Did you even love him at all? You didn’t shed a tear at the church, not even at his grave.”
An unsettling calmness overcame Phoebe as she punched her. Helen yelped, holding her hands to her nose. Axel and August didn’t make a move to intervene, too shocked to speak.
Helen stared at her with wide, watery eyes. Phoebe wasn’t sorry, because now that Helen had shut up, she could breathe, and deliver her message.
“Cillian’s mum wants you all to come in and share some stories.” Phoebe excluded Helen from the invitation. “A little warning would’ve been nice,” she said to the others, before walking out.
