I sit there, blinking, as if the words don’t want to compute.
“Why didn’t Luc call me?”
Blake frowns. “You haven’t been answering your phone.”
I look at my phone lying next to me in bed and remember. It’s been dead since last night. Luc and I both fell asleep with each other on video again, and I haven’t had the motivation to get up and find my charger. I haven’t had the motivation to do more than lay here and daydream about being back at Luc’s family home in Louisiana.
“Jesse?” Blake’s voice is a mix of sympathy and concern. “Are you okay? Do we need to call–”
“No,” I say. “I’ll be fine. But this–what happened to Talia–isn’t okay. I can’t let anything happen to Luc or his family.”
“We’re going to protect them the best we can,” Cory interjects from behind Blake. “We’re pursuing charges against the photographer who ran her off the road, as well as threatened legal action against anyone who continues to harass the Martín family. I suggested Luc stay clear of the area, but he understandably wants to be with his family right now.”
The daydreams I’ve been using to comfort myself fade away like mist. I can no longer picture a future where Luc and I can be together without causing him and his family pain.
“We’re supposed to be on a plane to Miami this afternoon. We’ve got staging and rehearsals to get through. We’re beefing up security for the whole band and working with the venue to approve stadium security as well.”
I don’t hear any of it.
Blake reads something in my face. He tentatively sits on the edge of the bed near my feet. “Jesse…”
I can’t look at him. I stare at my hands, at the faint tremor there. “His little sister is in the hospital because of me.”
“She’s okay.”
“Because of me,” I repeat. “This isn’t just about Luc anymore. It’s his whole family. He doesn’t deserve this.”
Silence stretches. Blake exhales, heavy, but he doesn’t contradict me. If they say anything else to me, I don’t hear it.
“Cory, can you take me to the airport?”
Cory pauses a moment, and I know he wants to argue, but he takes a deep breath and nods. “Of course.”
“We’ll charter a jet,” Blake says, raising his phone to his ear while he helps me pack a bag.
Minutes later, I’m plugging my phone into a car charger. As soon as it boots up, dozens of notifications buzz and ping simultaneously. The little light at the corner of my phone blinks an angry red.
Twenty-three missed calls and texts from Luc.
Not only am I responsible for his sister being terrorized and injured, but I wasn’t here for him when he needed me.
My chest clenches so hard it hurts. I’m in danger of dry heaving, because Lord knows there’s nothing in my stomach.
I never thought I’d regret this life. There have been moments that I regretted, sure. Days, weeks, or even months that I have regrets about. Never did I think I’d regret being who I am.
And never once did I ever consider that I’d regret falling in love with Luc Martín. Or rather, that he ever fell in love with me.
I’ll always love him, but that’s not enough. Not if it’s putting a target on the people he loves. I’m terrified that the only right thing to do is to walk away. The only way I can protect him is to push him away from the fire.
I just don’t know that I’m strong enough.
I try three times to call Luc, but there’s no answer. Oh, God, he probably hates me. I thumb out a single text:
ME: I’m on my way, baby. I’m so sorry.
The apologies are getting tiresome, even for me. How long could our relationship reasonably last when all he gets from me are apologies? There’s nothing worth this drama, and his and his family’s safety.
I need to do the right thing. Once I check on his sister and apologize to his family, I’ll find the strength.
