Page 37

Thirty-Five

Isaac

“ H ey, babe. You must have fallen asleep early last night. And…you’re sleeping in late today. I hope everything’s okay. If I don’t hear from you before the show tonight, I’m going to have to send Lucas over there, and you know how much fun he is.”

I force a laugh when I can’t feel an ounce of humor in me.

“I love you. Maybe your phone broke or something. Or you just need a break from me. I don’t know. My mind is coming up with crazy scenarios, so please stop freaking me out. I love you. Did I mention that? I’ll say it again. I love you, Jensen. Please call me back.”

I feel sick. Like physically sick. I called Jensen after my TV interview last night, but he didn’t answer. I expected to wake up to a text this morning, but still nothing.

I don’t know if he’s mad at me or ghosting me or lying dead in a ditch somewhere, but the constant worry is making me physically ill. My body aches and I have no appetite.

It’s past noon back in Austin, and we’re supposed to do a promo video tonight for some brand sponsorship, but I can’t even get myself in the shower, let alone dressed for photos.

Everything was great when I left town a few days ago. Did I push him too hard with the family stuff? And then the moving in.

I let out a groan as I bury my hands in my hair. Because I have nothing else to do, I pick up my phone and ring him again. According to my call log, I’ve called him twelve times today.

Needy much, Isaac?

It rings and rings just like it has all day. Then, to my relief, it stops ringing like he’s picked up.

“Jensen?” I ask, my voice buzzing with anticipation.

“Hey,” he mumbles.

“Are you okay? Jesus, you scared the shit out of me.”

My pulse is pumping in my ears as I let the relief flow through me. He’s okay. We’re okay.

“I’m fine.” His voice is low and raspy. It’s him, but not him at the same time.

I clear my throat, not sure what to say. “Did you see the show last night?”

The line is silent for a few minutes. My knee bounces, waiting for him to just speak to me like the real Jensen that I know and love. Inside, I’m panicking that somehow everything I thought I had is slipping through my fingers.

“Isaac, listen…”

I freeze.

“I can’t do this anymore.”

No.

“It’s not your fault.” His voice cracks.

Stop.

“I just…don’t think I can be the man you need.”

“What happened?” I ask while staring at the blank wall of my room on the bus.

“Nothing happened,” he lies. I can hear it in his voice.

“Don’t lie to me, Jensen. What…happened?”

“Isaac, please listen to me.”

“No!” I shout. “You’re not going to fucking break up with me over the phone!” I stand up in a rage, my heart pounding in a panic. “We love each other, Jensen. You can’t do this.”

“Isaac, stop!” he shouts through the phone.

“No, you stop! Did those motherfuckers get in your head? What happened? Did you talk to one of them? Or was it my dad? Did he find you? Don’t listen to their bullshit!”

“It’s not bullshit, Isaac. It’s real life, and we can’t just pretend we live in a bubble all the time because no matter what we do, we have to answer to God.”

It feels like he’s just punched me in the stomach. “You think God would judge us for the way we love each other? Is that what you honestly think, Jensen?”

He’s quiet. All I can hear is his breathing, and it sounds like my soul shattering.

“I have to believe that, Isaac.”

He’s crying. I can hear the pain in his voice, the tears on the line. And I’m filled with so much anger and sadness I don’t know how to react. I can’t handle the agony.

“You were never going to be there, were you?” I ask, and it feels like my heart is splitting in half. “I was never going to be anything more than your dirty secret.”

He makes a hiccuping sound and I fight the urge to scream.

“Answer me, Jensen. You’re breaking my heart, so you can at least give me this much. Tell me the truth.” My voice reeks of vitriol as I spit my words at him through the phone.

“No,” he whispers sadly. “We never had a future.”

I squeeze my phone so hard it feels like it could crack. The pain morphs into rage. My face feels bright red as I clench my teeth and shut my eyes tight.

“I’m so fucking stupid,” I whisper.

“Isaac—”

Before he can say another word, I punch the end call button. My legs are bouncing erratically, like I might detonate at any moment. I’m so mad at him. So mad at myself. So mad at my stupid fucking heart for thinking he could change for me. He tried to tell me. He tried to warn me that he had been through too much. That he could never give me himself, but I didn’t ask for much. I just wanted to love him.

I still want to just love him.

Why can’t we just do that? Even in the privacy of our own homes. We could just be happy together. Why, why, why.

The worst part is that he actually thinks the lies they’ve put in his head. He tried to make me believe it too. He thinks we’re a sin. I’ll never be able to change his mind. Never.

There’s a knock on the door to my room. “You okay in there?”

“No,” I murmur with my face in my hands.

The door opens and Lola walks in. She takes one look at me and her expression morphs into pity. Then she crosses the space, crawls onto the bed next to me, and pulls me into her arms.

I can’t cry. I’m too angry.

Why would he do this? Over the fucking phone.

None of this is adding up.

“Want me to call Martina and reschedule the shoot?” Lola asks.

“No,” I mumble. “I need the distraction.”

“Are you sure?” she asks, patting my back. I can’t stand the idea of being coddled, so I remove myself from her hold and stand from the bed.

“Yes, let’s just get the fuck out of here.”

With a look of remorse, she nods and follows me as I march angrily off the bus.

“This attitude is working,” the photographer says as he clicks the camera again. “Now, let’s give the girls a smile, can we?”

I try to smile. I really do. But it’s only the bottom half of my face contorting, and I don’t feel an ounce of joy behind the expression. I can tell the photographer is disappointed.

“Broody and sexy it is,” he mutters as he snaps a few more from different angles.

All day, I’ve been thinking about Jensen. I check my phone every five seconds. I’ve written and rewritten about a hundred texts to him, but none of them feel right. It’s like I’m talking to a version of him I don’t even know.

I just want to scream at him, “It’s me. Stop acting like this.”

Not once in our relationship has he ever spoken about God, other than the times when he was baring his soul about what he went through. He has never used God against me the way he did today.

That’s not him. That’s what those monsters at Eternal-whatever taught him to think. They fucked him up. They have to be in his head. That’s all this is.

But if that’s all this is, then maybe he needs me. Is it wrong of me to let him push me away when he so clearly needs me to remind him what’s real and what’s not?

We’re traveling to our next tour stop tomorrow.

“Do you need a break?” the assistant says as she sprays water on my chest.

“What? No,” I reply, shaking my head out of the stupor. “Let’s get this over with.”

“Then you have to give me some emotion,” the photographer snaps with irritation.

I manage to make it through the rest of the shoot somehow. The entire time, I just have to do my best not to think about Jensen, but it’s impossible. Anxiety replaces the anger I felt earlier. I can’t sit around and do nothing. I have no intention of just getting over this. I’m not going to let him go that easily.

After the shoot, I get in the car with Lola. The minute the door closes, I blurt out, “I have to go home.”

“What?”

“The rest of you can go to Charleston, but I need to go see him in person.”

“Tonight?” she asks with shock.

“Yes. I’m looking up flights now.”

When I find one that takes off late tonight, I quickly book it without another thought. I have to get home to him immediately. I’ll explain to my tour manager, and I’ll be back in time for dress rehearsal the day after tomorrow.

I’ve been crawling out of my skin ever since I got off the phone with my tour manager. She sounded frustrated with my decision. But I don’t care. If Jensen thinks I’m just going to let all of this go over one bad day, he’s wrong.

I’ve walked away from love before. I walked away from my own family. That was for my own good because that love didn’t serve me anymore, but I won’t walk away from Jensen. I will never walk away from him.