Chapter 40
Josh
The leaves of the trees that pass by the window of the limousine glow in various shades of green. Friendly sunshine winks out from between the individual branches. Bright, dancing spots accompany our way along the Avenue de la Grande Armée.
So here we are. In the City of Love. The romantic center of Europe. Being here makes me even more melancholic than I already am. I can feel Maya's absence within me everywhere. I am incomplete. Half empty.
"Look, there's the Arc de Triomphe you showed me in the book." Sophia can barely contain her excitement, her nose pressed against the window. "Where is the Eiffel Tower? Can we see it later?"
"Of course, we can," I say tenderly, wrapping my arm around my little daughter and pulling her close. Even though she doesn't talk about it, I know she doesn't understand Maya's departure and doesn't want to acknowledge it. I'm trying my best to be there for her, and we actually get along well. It was unthinkable at the beginning of the summer. But thanks to Maya, Sophia and I have become closer than ever before. "Once we've settled into the hotel, we'll explore the city," I say cheerfully.
Tamika's strained clearing of her throat reaches mefrom the opposite seat. It tells me that she's not pleased with my answer. "You have a press appointment at one o’clock, then a talk show appearance on France 2. And the final rehearsal for tomorrow's concert starts at five o’clock."
I give her a frustrated glance. How can she just move on as if nothing happened? Nothing is the same anymore. Everything is broken.
She simply points at the schedule in her hand and raises her eyebrows.Don't make a fuss now, her expression warns me.
But I can't help it, I respond silently.
As the car comes to a stop at an intersection, Tamika sighs heavily. "To relieve Jasmin and me from all the responsibility, I hired a professional child caregiver for our stay in Paris. She's waiting for us at the hotel," Tamika continues unaffectedly. Once again, I wonder if this woman has no heart or if it shattered into a thousand pieces she can't put back together.
I observe the small wrinkles around her mouth, the perfectly styled hair, the precisely applied makeup. Her shoulders tremble as the limousine jerks into motion again. She raises her eyebrows, so reluctantly, I turn my attention to my daughter.
"How about an audiobook?" I ask, handing her the MP3 player.
Luckily, she nods enthusiastically. "The Ice Princess!"
I wait until she puts on the headphones before addressing Tamika again. "This is not how it's going to work. I'm not going to entrust Sophia to a stranger. Can't we cancel some of the appointments today?"
She shoots me an accusatory look. "That's out of the question," she replies, shocked, leaning closer to me. "Let me make this clear: You can't afford any weakness. Despite the successful concerts in Tyrol and Geneva, the predictions for the music award haven't improved. You're still lagging behind."
Dammit.
"The competition doesn't sleep. Everyone is on a promotional tour, releasing new albums, and organizing extravagant meet-and-greet events. It's getting tight. Paris is your last chance to impress the fans before the awards ceremony. You have to seize it," she insists. "Don't get distracted. By anything or anyone. Otherwise, the fun will be over before you can say Maya."
Surprised, I sink back into the leather seat. How does she know about my feelings for Maya?
"Well, please." A sarcastic laugh escapes her lips. "Even from the moon, you could see that. Suddenly, her expression turns into an unsettling grimace. "Be glad you're rid of her. She was only interested in basking in your success anyway."
What nonsense.
Maya has never cared about my money, and she never once sought the spotlight. On the contrary, it was important to her that our relationship remained a secret, especially for the sake of my little daughter, who means much more to her than basking in the limelight.
"Don't look at me like that. In Tyrol, she even tried to sneak backstage at the afterparty." She waves her hand in frustration.
Could that be true? Has Maya been playing a role with me?
No. I can't and won't believe that. She must have leftbecause I, being an idiot, broke my promise to my daughter.
"If that's the case, then please explain to me why she's gone now," I say, sounding a bit like Sophia when she's not allowed to have ice cream for dessert. "And why, since she fled from my hotel room in Geneva two days ago, she hasn't been answering calls or responding to messages?"
I turn my gaze outside, where the bright facades of the typical Art Deco buildings of Paris pass by. Just the thought of Maya's silence weighs heavily on me, overwhelming me with an immense fatigue. Not for the first time, I feel the desire to cancel my concert in Paris and all my appointments to immediately return to Vienna. I want to knock on her door and not leave until she opens it. And once we face each other, she has to listen to me.
But what should I say to her?
I wouldn't deny that I drank before my concerts in Tyrol and Geneva. And before I step onto the open-air stage in front of the Eiffel Tower tomorrow, I will do it again. Not because I enjoy it. But because there's simply no other way. In her eyes, it makes me an alcoholic, and I even understand why.
So what could change her mind? What can I do to show her how much she means to me and how much I hate drinking too?
