Page 61 of Bluebird

I didn’t know what to say.

“Is it true what everyone is saying? Is it alcohol? Drugs? You need to tell me what we’re dealing with here.”

“I’m pregnant!” I yelled, sick of having to deny all the ridiculous rumours.

Stefan went pale.

I rolled my eyes. “Don’t worry, it’s not yours,” I assured him and he exhaled in relief. The dumb arse.

“Then who…” He figured it out before finishing his question. Perhaps he wasn’t that dumb after all.

He shook his head with a chuckle. “You’re kidding, right? That bar guy?” He raised his eyebrows in amusement. “Well, you’ve moved on to bigger and better things, haven’t you?”

I narrowed my eyes. “He’s a better man than you could ever be, that’s for sure.”

“So why isn’t he here?”

I didn’t answer and he smirked in amusement.

“Oh, wait…you haven’t even told him, have you?”

When I looked away from his smug face, I may as well have admitted he was right.

“So, what are we going to do here, Nat? I’ve got to make a statement in fifteen minutes.” His amusement evaporated. “Do you really want me to be the one to break the news to him, and the rest of the world?”

I shook my head vigorously.

“I need to tell them something.”

“Tell them I’m out,” I said, numbly.

Stefan’s eyes widened. “What?”

“Tell them whatever you want…except the truth. Please, Stefan. C’mon, you owe me that… please?” I gazed up at him with pleading eyes. I couldn’t let Luke find out that way.

Stefan’s expression softened and he sighed.He touched my arm in comfort and sat down beside me. “Okay, we’ll take the alcohol angle. It’s nothing new. Most stars have a problem with it at some point. We’ll say you’ve left the tour to receive treatment.” He looked at me for approval and I nodded.

I lowered my eyes. “Thank you, Stefan.”

“And we’ll have to drop you as an artist. My father doesn’t want to be associated with this sort of thing. Your contract is just about up anyway, so it’s probably in our best interest to part ways now.”

I pursed my lips and nodded. I was expecting as much.

A fleeting look of regret crossed his face as he stared at me. Instead of speaking, he surprised me with a hug. It was a reminder of why I had dated him for so long. A reminder that underneath all the bullshit, he actually had a heart. He just couldn’t keep his dick in his pants.

“You’d better pack your bags,” he sighed, and left the bus to give his statement to the eagerly awaiting reporters.

The doctor returned and gave me some painkillers. He offered me a sympathetic look and made me promise to see an obstetrician as soon as I got home. I packed my bags in a haze of disbelief and assured myself everything was going to be okay.

Stefan organised a car to take me wherever I needed, and his driver was waiting patiently for me when I stepped off the bus. I got inside, filled with shame, and was thankful for the heavily tinted windows.

“Where would you like to go, Miss Rivers?” the driver asked politely.

I paused for a moment, then answered with the only response that made sense. “Home.”

“I’ll take you as close as I can get,” he responded, unfazed. We drove through the flurry of flashing cameras that anticipated my departure, and onwards towards the airport.

It wasn’t long before my mobile began to ring. Mostly unknown numbers, reporters no doubt, but also calls from my mother and Nate. It was morning in Australia, and the news of my collapse had clearly reached home. I knew my family would be worried, but I wasn’t ready to talk to anyone. I sent a short text to let them know I was fine, in hope it would ease their worries enough to leave me alone for a while.

I switched my phone setting to silent, but it continued to vibrate. Each buzz added to my anxiety, until I couldn’t take it anymore. As we crossed a bridge, I opened the car window and threw my phone as far as I could into the water below. I was certain I would regret it, but it felt good to be free.