Page 26 of Unholy Confessions
M: I love you...
He doesn't answer, and I don't expect him to. This has been a bump in our relationship since it started, but it hasn't been this bad; ever. I don't know what's changed, but I wish I could get inside his brain and figure it out. Sighing heavily, I open the door to my creative writing lecture hall, and step inside. Once there, I head over to where my group is seated.
There are two girls, including me, and three guys. One of them is Hayden Lawson. Nephew of one of the bigger names on the country scene right now who is fighting for spots on the charts with Grey Skies, since they have crossover appeal. RJ and EJ can't stand him, but he's always been nice to me.
"You okay?" He asks as I slide in.
"Yeah, just... relationship stuff," I mutter, pulling out my notebook and trying to shake off the frustration from my conversation with RJ.
Hayden raises an eyebrow. "The rockstar boyfriend giving you grief again?"
I shoot him a look. "It's not grief. It's just... complicated."
"Relationships shouldn't be that complicated, Montgomery." His voice is gentle, but there's something behind his eyes that makes me uncomfortable. "Especially when you're trying to focus on your future."
My phone buzzes against the desk. RJ's name flashes on the screen. Then again. And again.
I flip it face down and try to concentrate as our professor starts explaining the next phase of our group project. But Hayden's words keep echoing in my head. Maybe he's right. Maybe this shouldn't be so hard.
"So we need to have the character development profiles finished by Friday," Sarah, one of my group members, is saying. "Montgomery, can you handle the antagonist breakdown?"
"Sure," I say, scribbling notes even though my mind is elsewhere. My phone continues to vibrate intermittently throughout the class. Each buzz makes my chest tighten a little more.
"You know," Hayden says quietly while the others are discussing dialogue techniques, "I never see you as stressed as you when you come back from seeing him."
I want to defend RJ, but the words stick in my throat. Because if I'm being honest, Hayden isn't wrong. Before I go see him, I'm focused, driven, content with my life and my goals. When I come back, I'm always a little bit of a mess. But I miss him so damn much.
"It's not that simple," I finally whisper back.
"Isn't it?" He leans closer, his voice barely audible. "You're brilliant, Montgomery. You have so much potential. Don't let someone else's insecurities hold you back."
My phone buzzes again, more insistently this time. I glance at it despite myself and see five missed messages from RJ. But I don't read them. I can't. Not here, not now.
The rest of class passes in a blur. When it's finally over, I pack up my things slowly, dreading the moment I'll have to check my phone. Hayden lingers as the others file out.
"Whatever's going on," he says, slinging his backpack over his shoulder, "just remember that you deserve someone who supports your dreams, not someone who makes you feel guilty for having them."
After he leaves, I sit alone in the empty lecture hall for a moment, staring at my phone. Finally, I flip it over and brace myself.
The messages are a mix of apologies and frustration, typical RJ when he's in one of these moods. But it's the notification from Instagram that makes my blood run cold.
@rhettjamesgreyskies posted a new photo.
My fingers shake as I tap on it. There he is, arm slung casually around the waist of Celeste Morgan, the pop princess who's been all over the charts lately. They're both grinning at the camera, looking far too comfortable together. The caption reads: Great show in Kansas last night! Thanks to everyone who came out.
But it's not the caption that guts me. It's the way she's looking at him. The way his hand rests on her hip like it belongs there. The way they look like a perfect, matching pair of beautiful, successful musicians.
Everything I'm not.
My fingers move before my brain can stop them.
M: What the fuck, Rhett James?
Chapter 13
RJ
"You're playin' with fire aren't you?" EJ asks as we sit backstage, waiting to go on in Dallas.
