Page 84 of Strum Me

“If it’s about Ben, you’ve said everything you’ve wanted to say about that. And I’ve accommodated you. You come and go as you please, which luckily for us, isn’t that often. But so far it doesn’t seem to hurt Ben. When it does, things will change.”

“It’s…it’s not about Ben. It’s about us. Well, about you.”

“What about me?”

“I’ve been reading what you write about the Rock Chamber Boys. And I heard about the editorial piece you’re going to write about them.”

“So?”

“It was really good. I didn’t know you could write like that.”

“Maybe you would have if you’d bothered to read anything I’d written.”

“That’s not fair. You didn’t want me to.”

“Of course I did! Ugh, why are we talking about this? This is old news, Silas.”

“I want…I want you to do a write-up for me. For my band. The String Slingers.”

“What, why?”

“Because I really think you’re going to be huge, and I want people to read about us through you. Be our big break, Emily.”

“No.”

“Why the hell not? Are we not good enough for you? You only want to write about pretty boy Grammy winners?” There’s a sneer in his voice that’s ugly.

It’s not the place to have this conversation, but I’ve had enough of hiding. I take a breath and tell him the truth. “Because I don’t want to, Silas. Because I don’t want to work with you, I don’t want to be near you, I don’t want to have anything to do with you. You’re my son’s father. Fine. I can’t change that. But that’s it. No.”

His eyes grow dark, and it’s a look I’ve seen before. And I’m scared, because I know what’s coming. He reaches out and runs a finger down my cheek and it makes me shiver.

“Come on. We’re older now. We can make this work. You. Me. Ben. Isn’t it what you’ve always wanted?” He takes my hand and pulls it to press against his chest, and it’s all I can do not to wrench it away. “Aren’t I what you always wanted? Don’t tell me that Brad is making you happy. He never could and he never will.” His words, spoken calm and low, drip with vitriol.

I push on his arm, willing him to let go of me without making a scene.

“Don’t you ever touch me again,” I whisper low but firm in his face.

He freezes and grins at me, his finger still caressing my cheek, his arm flexing under my hand.

Then I hear footsteps come to a sudden stop.

“Buddy. Brad,” Silas says, taking his hand off my face as I drop his arm in surprise. “Soundcheck sounded good.”

“What are you doing here, Silas? Stalking us? Or just Emily?”

“I forgot what a funny guy you are. We actually got called in to replace one of the bands who couldn’t get here on time. It’s our first time here.”

Brad’s eyes don’t leave mine, even though his words are directed at Silas.

“What time are you playing?”

“About 5:30 p.m.”

“Good. Enjoy your set.”

“Thanks, man.”

“It must feel good, opening for the Rock Chamber Boys.”