Page 27 of Rock My Girl

CASSIE

Idon't know whether I actually slept or not, but I finally opened my eyes, still in a daze.

There were dozens of texts from Ford, begging me to tell him that I was okay.

Me: Home. Fine. Frazzled.

His message came back seconds later.

Ford: Thank God, baby. I was so scared.

Ford: Everything's going to be fine, I swear. Just rest. Sleep. I'm going to straighten everything out. We'll talk in the morning. Is that all right?

I was touched that he was so worried. Yet, again, it sounded like he was going to try to send me to a stage fright therapist in order to get me to be the person he needed me to be.

Instead, I needed to figure out a way to break his heart.

Me: Sure.

Ford: Rest well, baby. Just think of me kissing you good night.

I didn't know how to respond to that, so I plugged my phone into the charger, collapsing into bed.

In the morning, I woke up early but nothing looked brighter. Throwing myself into work, I cleared the backlog, and got a few client projects taken care of quickly.

Knowing that I was going to have to break it off with Ford was like a black cloud looming overhead. I didn't want to do it. My feelings for him were so strong that I was starting to consider talking myself into becoming the person that he needed.

Changing myself to please other people was something that should have been behind me by now. I couldn't believe that after all this time, and cutting all ties with my father when I was seventeen, his horrible energy was still haunting me.

Grabbing my phone, I needed to make sense of it.

Me: How much would you change yourself to fit into your man's world?

Bethan: Wow. Hmm. A little would be acceptable. Like not eating peanuts anymore because he's allergic. How much change are we talking about?

Me: Ford wants me to sing on his album and then he assumes I'll tour with him.

Bethan: Wow. That's huge.

Me: Right? It's so fast and I don't know what to think.

There was a pause as those three dots danced in the left hand margin.

Bethan: I think it's the assuming part that's the problem. Have you sat him down and told him flat out no?

Me: Not really.

Bethan: That's a problem, sweetie. I know that you've sometimes survived by being quiet, and saying whatever someone wants to hear in order to calm them down.

A shudder ran through me. She was one of the only people I'd ever told about how angry my father was all the time. Although his rage was only verbal, it had left me accustomed to walking on eggshells.

Bethan:If Ford cares for you, he'll listen. If you'd be miserable on tour, he wouldn't want you there anyway.

Me: Thanks. I knew that, on some level, but I needed to hear it.

Bethan: That's what I'm here for. Sorry, but I have to take off again – I need to water all of the plants before the sun gets too high. Can't let the leaves fry!

Me: OK. Thanks.

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