“I screwed up, big time. Not just because I let you down when you needed me the most, but because if you really don’t know, then I was an idiot for far longer than just the last couple of weeks.”
His lips brush mine gently, and I taste the salt from my tears. I want to open my eyes and beg him to just put me out of my misery, but I don’t think I can hold back the barrage of tears behind my eyelids.
“I love you so much,” he says, unlocking a flurry of butterflies that thrash violently in my chest, forcing me to breathe in short, panting breaths. “I’ve loved you for far longer than the three months we’ve been trying to get to know each other. But…” The word makes my throat close up, choking the butterflies trying to make their escape. My face grows hot with the effort of holding my breath. “I’ve been so stupid and so fucking selfish from the beginning. All I’ve ever worried about was myself. How being with you would impactmylife,myfamily,myskewed sense of security.”
I want to open my mouth and tell him I never blamed him for that. All his worries and the fear over how his life wouldbe impacted by being with me were all valid. But he presses a thumb over my lips so he can continue.
“When you called me to tell me about the leak, you called to warn me, and to apologize when you didn’t do anything wrong. The violation of your privacy wasn’t your fault, Jesse. You were a victim. And what’s more, all you were worried about was how it was going to impactme. Again, it wasmyfeelings,myfuture,mywelfare. Instead of being present for you and holding your hand, facing the storm together the way it should be, I froze and only thought about myself as well. You’re in those videos too, and unlike me, you weren’t anonymous. The world has picked you apart, kicked you down, and dealt you blow after blow, and you’ve not only continued to protect me, you opened up about the pain and struggles you’ve held close to your chest. And that’s not fair. It’s not okay.”
A slow tide of heat spreads through me. At first, it's a relief, because he doesn’t blame me. He said he loves me. Then it twists into something like grief, because it feels like a bad omen that we let the first real threat to our relationship tear us apart and send us to opposite corners, leaning into our own panic instead of each other. We could have been, should have been, weathering it together like he said.
His hands flex, thumbs wiping away more tears. I give up trying to hold them back and blink my eyes open, seeing his eyes red and leaking heartache just like mine. He seems smaller, kneeling on the ground and looking up at me. Human-sized instead of the towering mythical god I think of him as.
“I meant what I said this morning, and it’s not something I take lightly. I feel the same way I did before the leak, Jesse. I want to be with you, and I don’t want to hide. I’d like to talk to Mr. Holland and the PR team about how to do this right so I’m not aburden when the narrative has been taken from us like this.” His eyes bore into mine, pleading and sincere, a deep ocean of regret and pain and hope all at once.
“I love you, Jesse. Please let me make this right.”
I don’t even remember what I wanted to say to him. I’m too overwhelmed with a mixture of relief, gratitude, and fear that something bad will happen to change his mind. All I can do is sob and nod. The fight and tension leave my body, leaving me feeling wrung out and limp.
When Luc presses his lips to mine again, I cling to him, desperately trying to fuse our bodies together. Luc stands, lifting me with him, and lays me across the bed, his large body blanketing mine.
“I love you,” he repeats, over and over, between frantic kisses and tears and snot and me trying to climb inside his skin. To burrow there and never come up for air. I finally tear my hoodie and shirt off and press my chest to his, the skin-to-skin contact calming some of the restlessness clawing through me.
“Whatever happens from here on out, I’m with you. I’m not saying I won’t have moments of fear or nerves, but I will never leave you to face it alone again. No matter what happens, I’m fully in this with you, and nothing will change that.”
I believe him. I can feel the honesty in every word, the thought and sincerity behind them. This isn’t some grandstanding apology to stay in my good graces. He means what he says and intends to charge forward, hand in hand, into whatever battle is placed before us.
I wish I could promise him things that I can’t be sure of–safety, a tidy fix that will erase headlines and allow us to live our liveswith a modicum of peace. All I can give him is my forgiveness and gratitude and my own steadfast promise that I’ll do everything in my power to protect him and the love we’ve found together.
We lay there, kissing and touching, putting our broken pieces back together. Despite both of us being hard and clearly desperate for each other, we hold back and focus on just being there for each other. Eventually the exhaustion of the emotional release catches up to me, and I fall asleep in Luc’s arms.
Where I belong.
Luc stays for two more nights, spending the days in an odd sense of domestic bliss. He orders groceries to be delivered and teaches me and Mom how to make gumbo. The guys come over to eat, and we watch some of our favorite movies. Luc picksMonty Python and the Holy Grail, I pickAmelie, and Naz chooses aStar Warsfilm that I end up sleeping through. I also sleep through whatever Will and Ari picked, and so does Luc. We wake up after the guys have gone, covered in a blanket, and a picture of us sleeping waiting in our group chat.
It’s ordinary, and miraculous in its own way, because I don’t know that either of us knew we could have this.
We have a video meeting with Blake and the PR team, who confirm that holding back until the worst of the flames are out is our best bet. With my management team’s help, we come up with a realistic plan for the near future that allows Luc and I to spend the most time together without risking media attention. Luc agrees to allow the label to discuss added securityand privacy arrangements with his building’s management company. To my surprise, he even agrees to hire a driver from our security firm to help manage crowds if or when it comes to that.
He leaves late Thursday to fly home overnight when it’s less noticeable. Paparazzi and news vans are still surrounding the property, but Cory sneaks Luc out by having him dress in the security firm’s uniform with a hat pulled low over his eyes.
“It’s not fair to leave when you look that hot.” Not gonna lie, I’m starting to understand Naz’s fixation with his bodyguard.
Luc chuckles and kisses me deeply. “I’ll see you Monday night, okay?”
While Luc is in Atlanta for a Monday night game, I’ll be sneaking into his condo under the cover of night to be there when he returns home. The rest of his games this month are all home games, so he won’t have to travel. The plan is for me to lie low at his place and then go home with him for his holiday break until I have to fly to Nashville for a private concert on the 26th.
“Call me when you get home? And good luck in Atlanta,” I say, smiling at the memory of the last time he played there. “No surprise visits this time, unfortunately.”
I’m a little less afraid than I was the last time Luc had to fly home in the middle of the night. We have a plan, and we’re both in this. That's all I can ask for.
TWENTY-SEVEN
LUC
I don’t get home until nearly two o’clock in the morning. Our flight out of Atlanta was delayed due to reports of drone activity near the airport after one was seen following our bus from the stadium to the private terminal.
The team has been getting a lot of press. We’re headed to our first post-season games in franchise history. The game against Atlanta was hard fought, but we pulled ahead by a field goal in the fourth quarter and maintained the lead, making us undefeated in the regular season. We’re headed for the playoffs and favored to win the conference title, putting us one step closer to the Super Bowl.
