“Someone from my past called with an opportunity,” I tell her.
“Good opportunity or complicated opportunity?”
“Both.”
She leans against the counter across from me. “Want to talk about it?”
“Rex Lawson wants me to co-produce his album. Three to four months. Good money, great exposure.”
“Rex Lawson?” Her eyes widen. “That’s huge, Darian. He’s everywhere right now.”
“Yeah.”
“So what’s the complicated part?”
“It’s in LA.”
The kitchen goes quiet. Rye’s face shifts through several emotions before settling on something neutral.
“Three to four months,” she repeats.
“Yeah.”
“That’s an incredible opportunity.” Her smile is fake, forced.
“It is.”
“You should take it,” Her words come out too fast. They’re not the ones I expected to hear from her.
“Rye—”
“No, really. This is exactly what musicians wait for. You can’t pass it up because . . .” She gestures between us.
“Because what?”
“Because of whatever this is.”
“You don’t think this is something?”
She sets down her water glass. “I think we both know that career opportunities like this don’t come around often.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“Darian.” She says my name like it exhausts her. “We’ve known each other for what, a few months? You can’t make career decisions based on that.”
“What about Lily?”
Something flickers in her eyes. “What about her?”
“I’m teaching her guitar. She’s counting on me. Her dad already?—”
“Don’t.” The word comes out sharp. “Don’t make this about her father. That’s not fair.”
“I’m not. I’m making it about my promises. About being someone she can count on.”
“She’ll understand. Kids are resilient.”
But I hear what she’s not saying. That kids are resilient because they have to be. Because adults make decisions and children adapt.
