When she picked up the guitar and pulled it over her body, she found the chord, struck it, and looked out at the audience. She played it with more melancholy than he would have…and her voice was achingly sweet.
Soon, she was nearing the end of the song, and the way the words caught in her throat made it raw, tender, and emotional:
* * *
You used me: my body, my soul, my everything
And I don’t know who I am anymore…
But did I ever know that little girl anyway?
* * *
By the time she ended, the audience vocalized just how much they’d enjoyed her performance. But Quentin dropped to the sofa and sobbed into his hands, feeling grief for letting her down in the worst way he ever could have.
Two hours later, he was walking the property yet again, finally back in control of his emotions, processing his past in a way he never had before. He realized that the way he’d loved and shown love in the past was as fucked up as it could get. It was a matter of feeling like someone belonged to him. In fact, he could remember that sense of possession when he’d say, “Natalie’s my girl.”
But when she’d needed him the most, he’d let her down.
And he’d done it again with Raine.
Did he love Raine Dennison? He absolutely did to the bottom of his soul. The music they’d made together had caused him to know her intimately, in and out, and there wasn’t a thing about her he didn’t care about. He’d felt an intense need to protect her, to shelter her, but that wasn’t what she needed or even what she’d asked for.
She’d needed him to be there. It was that simple, and he’d messed it up so badly that she’d ended what little they had. And he understood why—after all he’d done and how he’d closed himself off, she’d felt the need to protect herself.
But love was far more than desire, much more than possession. He knew that now.
It was being there when it counted. It was showing up, even for the hard stuff.
He couldn’t—wouldn’t—ask for her forgiveness, and he knew he was too late to salvage anything they might have had. But he needed to tell her he was sorry, even if she never heard it, and there was only one way he could do it.
Through song.
Chapter 26
Quentin spent the entire day in the studio, missing lunch, then dinner, and working into the night. But the next morning when he returned, planning to tweak the song, he completely deleted the file and started over.
It was too safe. And he hadn’t dug deep enough, hadn’t bared his soul enough.
Hadn’t come close to exposing the truth.
He knew Raine would see right through it to the core—but he’d been writing exactly the way he’d told Raine not to in the beginning. He was holding back, afraid of exposing what lay beneath the surface.
Raine deserved more than that.
That night, he recorded an acoustic guitar—and then sang the words.
* * *
I couldn’t blame you for leaving
Because I’d already walked another road.
The moment when you needed me most
I left you standing in the spotlight all alone.
I’ve seen inside your precious soul
