Say It Strong (Say You Love Me Book 2) (28 page)

My mother always told me not to ask questions that might have answers I didn’t want to hear, so I kept quiet.

I walked up to her one last time, kissed her cheek, and whispered. “I love you.”

Picking up the pieces of my shattered heart, scattered all over the floor by the woman I loved, I tucked them into my pocket with the rest of my worldly belongings and got the fuck out of there.

Abby

Most kids probably never dreamed of having lunch by the fountain at Lincoln Center for the Performing Arts on the Upper West Side. But facing Avery Fisher Hall with the satisfaction of knowing that I might work there someday, I did. Then again, I was a freak. When I was little, Ma would bring me here and say that one day, when I was older, I was going to walk into that tall-columned building with my cello case. I was going to play here someday, and that dream solidified into a hard-core goal.

My mother had always shaped my dreams, either consciously championing me, or because I wanted them as badly as she did. So it was no small wonder that, as I sat outside in the Lincoln Center courtyard, I got a text from her asking me to wait before going inside to pick up my audition packet. She had something for me.

The recently vacated position I was auditioning for was Associate Principal Cello, and maybe that was wishful thinking, but I did graduate from Juilliard with top honors, so even if they gave me Back Row You Suck Cello, I wouldn’t care—I’d be IN. And I wanted my mom to be a part of that moment and every other Philharmonic moment.

So I waited.

It was a gorgeous Monday afternoon, with clear skies and a humid breeze blowing off the river, warming my shoulders, but my heart still felt cold. Had I done the right thing? I wanted to stay on my life track, and I wanted to find my own apartment here. Being with Liam could have brought trouble in the future, so yes, for all intents and purposes, I’d done the right thing by cutting him off.

But then…why did I feel so terrible?

Why did I wake up every day with a sinkhole in my heart, opening my eyes to a new day only to remember that Liam’s smile wouldn’t be in it, and that was all because of me?

It’ll take time,
I told myself.
You’d miss a painting, too, if someone suddenly took it off the wall and moved it.

You can get used to anything not being there, Abby,
I reminded myself. Given enough time, I’d get over him. I just needed to stay distracted, which included not looking through recent Point Break concert pics on my phone. I closed my browser.

My mother texted me again:
Almost there.

I looked up the sidewalk and waited for her familiar visage. Finally, after a minute, she rounded the corner, toting a little brown bag. Just seeing that little bag made my heart sparkle. Her smile shone just as brightly. She hurried toward me, then we crashed into a big hug.

“I couldn’t let you go in there without this, could I?” She handed the bag to me.

“I knew something wasn’t right. I should have known.” I smiled, taking the bag from her. When I opened it, the lovely rich scent of almond oil hit me. Inside was an almond bear claw, and sharing one before going inside to hear the Philharmonic play was our tradition. There were no performances scheduled for today, but we’d be entering the building just the same. “Thank you.”

Planting ourselves on the edge of the fountain’s circular stone border, we tore pieces off the pastry and nibbled at them. “Beautiful day, isn’t it?” Ma asked.

“Very,” I said.
Mmm.
Best pastry ever.

Ma stared into the fountain with a sad smile, remembering. “You know, Abby…beautiful days in Manhattan will always be, whether it’s raining, snowing, breezy, cloudy, or whatever.”

I smirked, tilting my head like a dog who’s just heard a high-pitched whistle. “What are you getting at, Ma?” My Mom-O-Meter knew when she was about to jump atop her soapbox. Frankly, I was a bit frightened.

Her frail, thin shoulders shrugged. “All I mean is that New York City will be here for you when you get back.”

“Back from what?”

She faced me, giving me an easy nod. “From the tour.”

“I’m not on the tour anymore.”

“Abby, you need to go back.”

“What? Why do I need to go back?” I snapped at her. “There’s no way. I’m here for good. Going in the first place was a mistake. Correction, getting involved with Liam was a mistake.” I scoffed. “There are plenty of things I liked about him, Ma, but there’s one thing I don’t.” I put down the piece of bear claw I was about to eat before she started all this, suddenly not hungry. I don’t know why I was bordering on anger right now, but I was. “And that one thing has the potential to destroy me.”

My mother listened, but I could tell she was not going to agree. I hated when she wasn’t on my side. “Abby,” she said softly, “getting in a car has the potential to hurt you. Walking onto a train has the potential to hurt you. Stepping outside into the world has the potential to hurt you.” The wrinkles around her eyes said I needed to listen, but I didn’t like where she was going with her typical mom life analogies. “The potential to get hurt is everywhere, all the time. Does that mean you shouldn’t go outside?”

I rolled my eyes. “It’s not the same thing.”

“It
is
the same thing. You took a risk by taking that job, okay. And you took a risk by letting that boy into your heart, fine. But then, the moment something didn’t go well, you ran away.”

I turned, giving her my shoulder. “It’s not that it didn’t go well. He ruined it.”

“He apologized, didn’t he?”

Oh, yes. Via a hundred texts, via a song, via a heart-rending fuck against a mirror, but she didn’t need to know that. “Are you saying I can’t come home to you when I need you, Mother?”

“Of course you can. What I’m saying is, you need to try again.” She took my hands, knocking a piece of bear claw to the ground, an invitation to surrounding pigeons to come and partake. “Hurt is everywhere, Abby, but you can’t stay in your safe room your whole life. Getting that job with Rosemary was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. How many people would give anything for the chance to tour with Point Blank?”

“Point Break.”

“Whatever.” She flapped her hand around. “The point is, not all fruit is rotten. Not all animals bite.”

“How is that a point?”

“Abby!” A rush of breath escaped her lips. She thought quietly for a while, while I considered all she was saying. I wasn’t deliberately trying to challenge her, but she didn’t know the whole story. She faced me again, her eyes aglow with wisdom. I could tell that if I didn’t listen to her now, she would never speak again on the subject.

Tempting.

“Not everyone is like your father,” she said, pausing to let that sink in. “I know you’re afraid. I know you don’t want anything to stop you from becoming Principal Cello the way life stopped me…but I’m happy, Abby. Life had new plans for me, and those plans were all about you. You were a new route that opened for me, and I was happy for that challenge. Do you understand that?”

Great, now my eyes began leaking, and my mom squeezed my hands to drive her point home. I nodded.

“Samuel is a good man,” she said.

I couldn’t believe it. This was about Samuel? They were ganging up on me again?
Ugh
, I couldn’t take this. I was about to give her back her bear claw and walk away when she shook my hands again.

“But Liam will keep you passionate for life.”

I turned wide eyes on her. “What did you say?”

“Liam, my darling… He was here several days ago, yes?”

“How do you know that?”

My mother’s glassy stare pierced through me. “Abby, please.”

He had gone to the apartment first. Yes, of course. How else would he have known where to find me? I’d been so distraught over the whole thing, I hadn’t thought through the logistics. “What did he say to you?” I asked.

“Abby, there are worse things in this world than a man who brings you flowers and declares his love for you,” she said, ignoring my question.

“It’s not that simple,” I countered.

“It
is
that simple,
wô de ài.
” She reached out to touch my cheek. “He loves you. He wants to take care of you. Abby, my love, my silly little daughter, I would have given
anything
for your father to have had the same look in his eyes as Liam had when he came for you.”

“Ma…” I shook my head.

“Yes, you may get hurt, but isn’t the risk worth the love he would give you? So many people never get that chance in their entire lifetime.”

“You don’t know him. You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“I know a good man when I see one,” she said almost angrily.

“Are you sure about that?” I twisted my face at her.

“Oh, sarcasm, I see. Okay…” She shifted in her seat, ready for the challenge. “No, I didn’t at first—you are right—but because of my experience with your father, I do now. Now, I know what to look for. Better than anyone else.”

“Mm-hmm. What about the Philharmonic?” I gestured to Avery Fisher Hall. “Let’s suppose I do want to go back to Liam. I’m not going to give up my dream just so he can have me, Mom. I’m not a bauble or trinket to be won.”

“Like how Samuel treats you?”

“What do you mean?” I flipped my palm up at her.

“Believe me, Abby. I am not a proponent of Samuel’s.”

“Really? Because I couldn’t tell from the way you two were the other night. The way you were all chummy-chummy.”

“We weren’t chummy-chummy. You were depressed. I wanted to see you get out of the house for one night. He’s good for that, at the very least.” She folded her hands queen-like in her lap, proud of herself and her actions. “Listen, you have the rest of summer left. Go and see what develops. If it is true that he wants to give you everything, you will have an apartment in this neighborhood before you know it. That will be his doing. And you will have your cello position. That will be your doing.”

I didn’t know what to say.

I gazed across the courtyard, hoping sensible words would find their way out of my mouth. My mother had turned into a hopeless romantic. Who knew? And here I was thinking I was my mother’s daughter, all work, hard-core to the bone, making a life for myself. Meanwhile, she’d turned into a softy.

Well, she was right about one thing—risk was everywhere, and I couldn’t hide in the safety of my world any longer to avoid it. But did that mean I should actively invite danger into my world? It was a tough choice, one that might take having the actual audition packet in my hand to help me make it.

“I need to go inside now and get the audition packet,” I said, standing and slinging my purse onto my shoulder. Though I didn’t know what good it would do me to be accepted into the symphony orchestra and be happy about it if I had no one, except my mom, to share the good news with.

“Good,” Ma said, pulling out her cooking magazine. “You go. I’ll wait here.”

Liam

“Good evening, Philadelphia!”

The stadium roared under darkening clouds spattered with quiet, spidery lightning.

“How y’all feeling tonight?” I cried into the mic then aimed it at the audience for a resounding reply. “Are you ready to rock?”

The whole stadium rumbled like an enormous beast emerging from the bowels of Inner Earth. Camera flashes sparkled across the blanket of undulating hands. These were my people. They loved and accepted me. I loved them back, but it wasn’t the same as my love for Abby. Never had I thought that the one person whose respect and validation I wanted most wouldn’t want me in return.

It was a fact I was going to have to live with. I’d made a mistake. Now I’d pay for it. Accepted. Not only was I out one incredible woman in my life, but the fans were out a great cello player, too, and little did they know, but they were about to lose a recently beloved song, too. We wouldn’t be performing
Abby Shines
tonight. I’d scratched it off the set list this morning. It hurt too much to sing it.

“Let’s do this!” I shouted, and the energetic opening of
Feel the Burn
began, fueling the excitement, the fever, and pulse of the entire stadium. This. This was the biggest reason I did what I did—the connection with our fans over the music. That’s what it was all about.

The legions of women who’d come to see us over the years didn’t get that. They thought it was about the glitz, the glam, money, cars, houses, boats, drugs, and shit. It wasn’t. I leaped, holding the mic stand, landing on my knees right as Wes’s guitar riff pounded.

Abby understood.

But Abby wasn’t here.

She’d said she didn’t belong in my life, that it would change me from notorious, wild front man to someone I wasn’t, someone the fans didn’t want to see me become. She couldn’t bear the responsibility of causing that. Had she forgotten, though? Before I became a singer, before my image was spattered on the cover of magazines, before my tattoos wove the story of my life, I was a drama geek—an actor.