Page 80 of Between Never and Forever
Beauty could wrap up emotions and package them as perfection.
I took deep breaths before walking out there, deep and measured and shaky. I reminded myself it was only a few months of doing this for my family, and then I’d be done.
I called my dad, trying my best to breathe. “How’s Mom?”
“Isn’t your concert in a few minutes?”
“I think… I’m tired, Dad. I feel like I might need to…” My voice cracked.
“Oh, Keelani. Honey, get a drink of water. You’re going to be all right. You’ve done shows like this over and over and over again, huh?”
I closed my eyes tight. “Sometimes I just want to be singing in my room with her one more time, Dad. One more time.”
He sighed. “Want me to try to get her to sing?”
“No.” I fisted my hand tight at my side. What was I doing? They didn’t need this now. “I’m sorry. I just needed a second. I’m fine.”
“Of course you are, honey.” My father always reassured me of that. “If you want, I can come there for a few days.”
I didn’t know if it was his attempt to get into a casino or to be a father. The question gutted me either way, along with the fact that I couldn’t know and the fact that I couldn’t ask. “No, Dad. I’m fine. I gotta go, but I’m fine. Tell her I love her.”
“We love you too, Keelani. Don’t forget that. We love you very much and are very proud of you.”
When I hung up, I took a deep breath, but it was different now. I was stronger after I reminded myself this was for them. My focus was there, and I stepped out on stage with a brilliant smile on my face. I didn’t drop the mask. And the music took me away to a world where I could escape the burdens I carried.
I looked out at the crowd and saw they were on that journey with me. I sang of love and home and heartbreak, but the music soothed me…until the end. I only had four songs left to sing. All of them were different. I’d done a costume change into a classic cocktail dress and slid silk gloves on over my engagement ring.
On the stage, the lights were lowered. The dancers were gone. The projectors and glitter and the distractions were all gone.
All that was in the middle of that stage now was the velvet chair I’d requested, my mic, and me.
I stood there, emotionally vulnerable in front of everyone. I glanced one last time at the side stage as I told the crowd I was giving them something a bit new but something old and dear to my heart.
And that’s when I saw him.
The lights were on me, but my soul gravitated to where he stood with Dimitri. They were both watching me. Each had their arms crossed, looking so much like one another. Yet, Dexton Hardy stole my heart with his sad smile. His eyes were locked on mine as he mouthed,You can do anything.
And I felt, right then and there, that I could. As the fans clapped for me, as a girl cried out she loved me, that I’d saved her, I knew I could. No one had ever told me I could do anything on the stage, but suddenly I wanted to.
“Words and writing music saved me, you know that? It brought me back from the depths of hell, and I think it will again. I’m working on writing some more songs that I hope others, not just me, will sing one day. Tonight, you’ll have to hear it from me though.”
I spoke what I wanted out into the universe for my most dedicated fans, and they screamed like they believed in me. As their camera lights swayed to the beat of my first two songs, I glanced back at the Hardy brothers. Dex clapped my best friend on his shoulder and nodded at me before he stepped back into the darkness. He was determined to let the spotlight be only on me and not on us. We didn’t need it in that moment. He was giving me this, and I’d be forever grateful.
I turned back to the crowd and swayed to the violins lifting us all up into a different space. We were on clouds, flying high in the notes, and I was suddenly free of every worry.
Until I saw him in the crowd.
Ezekiel.
He’d probably gotten a ticket from Mitchell, and I hated that his presence affected me. I cut the show short, looking to my band and signaling it was over.
I accommodated his presence, let him shrink me and protected the one song I should have sung. But it was one I held too dear to expose to him. I didn’t want my creativity and my heart tarnished with the memory of him being there. When we’ve dealt with trauma before, we protect what we love—especially when so many memories are already marred with pain.
So I ended the set early and was met by the head of security, Jimmy, as I walked off stage. He spoke into his comms, listening through the earpiece, and then he offered me his arm. “Only if you feel comfortable, Ms. Keelani, but I’ll be walking you to your dressing room after every show. And it’s easier for me to protect you if you’re by my side.”
His large smile and the way he actually asked made me immediately slide my hand through the crook of his arm. “Thank you,” I murmured.
We turned the corner toward the dressing room, and there stood Ezekiel. He was tall, with a dusting of gray at the temples of his dark-blond hair. His sunken eyes always made me wonder if he ever slept or just indulged in drug after drug to keep up his lifestyle. “Keelani!” He almost purred my name.
