Dylan Jennings is waiting stage-side to say hi. He’s been a guest on the tour for a while with his band, Vocational Rock. We love their work and we’ve become good friends. His hand goes up and we high-five as I pass.
“That was incredible, Tommy. The crowd is going wild out there. You guys are legends,” he calls behind me.
“Thanks, man,” I shout, taking a towel from the stand and rubbing it over my hair. “I’ll catch up with you later. Yeah?”
Right now, I’m making my way through a crowded corridor crammed with familiar faces from the music world who watched the show tonight. They’re also here for the after-party going on backstage, as tomorrow night’s celebration is for staff only. We will play our last gig of the tour and say a fond farewell to our crew for at least six months.
After a couple of hours, Ash and Calla go home, Brett ismissing, and Max follows the party to a nearby house belonging to Dylan.
Instead of following Max to the next party, I call it a night. I know my boy will be fast asleep, but I want to see him anyway, and I need to have a conversation with Chelsea. We haven’t been getting along lately, and every time I try to talk to her, she flies off the handle. Still, I have to keep the peace for my son’s sake, even though I know something is going on with her. I hope her sharp exit from the gig tonight is down to spending time with our kid and nothing else. I suppose I’ll soon find out.
“Chelsea, are you here?” I call out as I enter our open-plan apartment. The TV is on with no sound, and no one is watching.
Then her voice snaps from our bedroom, “Keep it down. It took Connie an age to get Ozzie to sleep.”
Half of me would love to wake my boy for a hug.
I walk into the bedroom, just as she slams the door to the bathroom. Leaning against the doorframe with my head against the door I ask, “Is everything okay?”
“Yep.” She sounds annoyed.
“It’s just you didn’t hang around after the gig. I thought something was wrong.”
“Nothing wrong. I have things to do.” When the door swings back, I lose my footing a little, not expecting her to exit so quickly.
“Well, don’t you look nice.” My hands slip into the pocket of my jeans as I follow her. She’s all red lipstick, a short black dress, and thigh-length boots. “I guess this welcome isn’t for me.”
“Ugh, don’t start now, Tommy. You’re getting in my way.” She turns around and pushes her hand against my chest. “I’m in a rush.”
“In a rush for what, exactly?” I ask as she walks past. I’ve got a good idea, but I want to hear her version.
“It’s a late party. Girls’ night,” she says while looking in the mirror and fluffing her hair with her fingers.
My jaw ticks in annoyance. “You’re going out with the girls now? It’s gone one a.m.,” I growl. “Why are you making a lot of effort for your friends all of a sudden.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” she asks while applying another layer of lipstick.
“Exactly how it sounded.”
“It sounded like you don’t trust me.” Her eyes catch mine via her reflection in the mirror.
I glare her way. Do I really have to say it?
I wonder then if I’ve ever trusted her. When I found out I was going to be a dad, I got spooked, and the news put a whole new spin on my decision to leave her.
Even though, deep down, I knew I should go for custody, I did a U-turn and married her instead. I was worried I’d lose if I went to court and my biggest fear was Chelsea disappearing with my kid. I knew she wasn’t the girl for me, but I had to try and make it work for my son.
Chelsea and I married in Vegas, and Ozzie was born just over seven months later. For a while, I convinced myself I’d done the decent thing. Nowadays, I’m just trying to get along with my wife. Chelsea tries my patience every fucking day.
Take this last tour. She decided it would be good if she and Ozzie joined us, and I was more than happy to have my family with me. She’d never suggested it before. The thing is, I’ve hardly seen her. She spent her days shopping or at the spa while I divided time between the band and Ozzie. ThankGod Connie arrived when she did. We’ve always had nannies from the day Ozzie was born, but they never stay too long. Connie’s been with us just over a year now, so I hope she’ll be different.
“Why are you staring at me like that?” Chelsea asks.
As usual, she doesn’t get why I’m so pissed off. I don’t believe this girl.
“You shouldn’t be going out and leaving our boy.”
“Oh, here we go. You expect me to look after your son twenty-four seven, but I need a break.”
