“Isthatwhat this is all about?” Rob asks, raising an eyebrow.
What the hell?
Is Rob taking Christopher’s side?
Am I overreacting?
Wouldn’t anyone lose their shit if their partner called them by their ex’s name?
“Your loyalty is to me!” I poke my finger into my chest as I rise from the bed.
Rob’s expression is wiped clean like a chalkboard. It’s replaced with the same look he gives me when I go against his command and he’s left compromised.
“No. My loyalty is to your safety. And after this week, it seems I need to protect you even more. Not from Christopher. Not from your fans. But from yourself.” His deep tone reverberates in my chest.
“It was a stupid mistake,” Christopher says, sitting upright. “I promise you, you’re the only guy I care about. The only one I want to be with.” His eyes are cloudy as they meet mine.
I feel as if the walls of the room are closing in on me, squeezing all the air from my lungs. Both Rob and Christopher stare at me, waiting for a response. But my thoughts are still zooming at a million miles an hour.
“I need a minute.” I walk by both of them toward the bathroom, pulling the door closed behind me.
“Leave the door open,” Rob shouts, and I release my grip from the door.
The toilet seat stares back at me, and I get an instant flashback to the bottles of Belvedere on the floor. The papers scattered everywhere. Me collapsed in a helpless state after Christopher stormed out.
How is it fair that I’m always painted as the bad guy?
That I’m always the one left in the wrong?
I shake my head, and step toward the sink, trying to control the burning behind my eyes, then turn my focus to the mirror, practicing the box breathing that helps me regulate before I go on stage.
In for four.
Hold for four.
Out for four.
Hold for four.
I complete ten rounds, and then stare at my reflection long and hard. Wondering how many other things in life I’ve overreacted to. What I’ve misjudged and flew off the handle over.
I make my way back into the bedroom, where Christopher is now sitting on the bench at the end of the bed opposite Rob.
“Maybe I did overreact.”
“You have every right to be pissed,” Chris says. “But I promise you, he’s a distant memory now. He’s in the rearview mirror; you’re my dashboard view. My future. Heck, I can reverse and run him over just to prove it to you.”
A little smirk appears on his face, prompting an answering smile on mine.
“We good here?” Rob asks, waving his finger between the pair of us.
“I think so,” I say, looking at Christopher. He nods.
“Good. I’ll leave you both to it.” Rob pushes himself away from the cabinet, making the TV wobble again, but this time he leaves it. “Oh, and if you start screaming and shouting for a different reason, a little heads-up wouldn’t go amiss.” He laughs as he heads to the door, shutting it behind him.
Christopher motions to me to join him on the bench and I sit down beside him.
“We’re not very good at conflict, are we.” He reaches for my hand.
