"That's still a lie, you know that."
"But it’s the only way to keep us from becoming public."
She nods, looking away.
And then she goes very still, takes a deep breath, puts her fork down, and looks at me.
“I love you,” she says. “I need you to know that. Whatever this is, whatever we’re doing. I love you.”
My heart slams against my ribs. I want to laugh and I want to cry and I want to write it down somewhere I can never lose it.
“I love you too.” And I do, so much it frightens me.
“Then why are we hiding?”
“Because I love you, I need to protect you.”
“From what?”
I don’t have a good answer for that.
CHAPTER 11
THE COST
Being happy and being a liar turn out to be the same thing.
The next weekend Rhonda shows up at my door again on Friday at 9 PM with a bass case in one hand and an overnight bag in the other. Her eyes are tired—not the kind of tired that sleep fixes, but the kind that accumulates over weeks of emails in all caps and label calls and Sandy's latest headline cycle. She's been carrying something heavy.
"Hi," she says.
"Hi. How was the drive?"
"Long. The traffic out of the city was insane."
"You hungry?"
"Maybe after. Can I just—" She sets down the bass case and drops the overnight bag by the couch. "Can I just exist for five minutes without thinking about Sandy Gauntlet?"
"Yeah. Come in."
The apartment recalibrates when she's in it. Smaller. Warmer. I make her hot chocolate the way she's taught me—two marshmallows stacked, aerosol whipped cream because she's told me that specificity matters, that small attentions lodge in a person—and watch her shoulders drop as she wraps both hands around the mug. She breathes like she's been holding it for days. Maybe longer.
We sit on the couch—the couch with all its accumulating significance, all the ways it's becomingour couchin a room that's still mostly hers—and she drinks the chocolate and doesn't talk about Sandy or the label or the contract reviews or emails in capitals. She tells me about the Belladonnas session instead.
“Jo’s been bringing me cookies and coffee,” she says.
"That's good, right?"
"I think she’s offering an olive branch." Rhonda traces the rim of her mug. “We’re working together but not really talking much.”
"What did you work on?"
"Three new arrangements by Jo, which is great. She’s putting herself out there again. She used to arrange everything before the relationship, and then she stopped, just let Ana and Jeremy drive the creative direction. Now she's coming back with full arrangements and playing them for the group like, 'here, try this.'"
"That's awesome."
"It is. I just hope she’ll start answering emails again too."
