Page 116 of When the Stars Rise
“When will it ever be enough for you, Noah? What if you die? Do you have any idea what that would do to me? Or don’t you care?”
“Of course, I care. But I’m not going to die,” I said with a laugh that died on my lips when her face fell.
I dropped what I was doing and pulled her into my arms, trying to reassure her that everything would be okay. I rested my chin on the top of her head and held her close, her palm pressed on my chest where she could feel my heart beating strong and steady. “Why don’t you come with me?”
She pulled back. “I can’t just pick up and go. I’m working on my next album, and I have commitments.”
I shrugged. “Yeah, well, so do I.”
She planted her hands on her hips and glared at me. “You don’thaveto do this.”
“And you don’thaveto write another album or go on tour. Nobody’s holding a loaded gun to your head. That’s the career you’ve chosen, and this is the one I’ve chosen.”
She shook her head. “Can’t you see what you’re doing? When things get too hard to deal with, you just take off. Youneverdeal with your emotions—”
“Oh, that’s rich coming from the person who took off and moved to LA, leaving me in Texas—"
“You haven’t even talked about Zeke or how you feel about losing him. You just self-medicate by getting high or chasing your next adrenaline rush. But guess what, Noah? You can’toutrun this forever. One day, it will all catch up to you, and you won’t know how to handle it.”
I was sick and fucking tired of everyone trying to psychoanalyze me. I got it from my parents and now from her, and it pissed me off. “So you’re a shrink now?”
“I’m trying to be honest and tell you how I see it.”
“Yeah? Well, you’re wrong. I’m not trying to outrun anything. Just because I deal with my emotions differently than you do doesn’t mean that my way is wrong and yours is right.”
“Don’t go,” she pleaded. “Please don’t go.”
“My flight is in three hours. I can’t back out now.”
“I’m sure your adoring fans will get over it if you don’t post another YouTube video for a while.”
The way she said it sounded so fucking condescending. As if what she was doing was so much more important than what I did. That’s how I took it anyway. “I appreciate the support.” I nodded. “Sorry that we can’t all be out there saving the world. Find that cure for cancer yet, Hales?” I let out a low whistle. “No wonder you added Saint to your stage name.”
She huffed. “I can’t talk to you when you’re like this.” She spun around and dashed out of the bedroom like she couldn’t escape quickly enough.
“Who’s running now?” I yelled.
I finished packing because what the fuck else was I supposed to do? She knew I was going on this trip. She’d known it for weeks.
When I carried my duffel bags down the stairs, I followed the sound of her voice to the living room. She was sitting behind the piano, fingers on the keys, working on the song she wrote about Zeke, and I guess I should have known right then and there that we were over.
It wasn’t just about this one trip. Hayley wanted me to give it all up.
And do what? Be Hayley Saint James’ boyfriend with no real ambitions or dreams of my own?
I dropped my bags and stood behind her, sliding her hair over her shoulder, and kissing the side of her neck in the exact spot that always made her moan a little. But this time, she didn’t moan or arch her neck to give me better access like she usually did.
She just kept playing the same sad tune over and over. I swear she must have chosen all the saddest notes.
I buried my face in her hair, breathing her in for a moment before straightening up. “I’ll be home in two weeks.”
Her hands stilled on the piano keys. “So you’re really going through with this?”
I could tell by her tone that the question was locked and loaded.
She was forcing me to make a choice—choose me or choose your career.
But still, I held on tight, stubbornly refusing to believe this was how it would end and made a last-ditch attempt to explain why I had to do this. “I have to do this. I’m honoring Zeke’s memory by doing something he loved.”
