Songbird (Songbird, #1) (50 page)

Riley was furious, and unable to stay quiet any longer. “Now, Rebecca, do you want to tell Tara what really happened?” he fumed. “The truth this time, please.”

She was silent for a moment as she realised that Riley had heard every word she had said, before back-pedalling, and telling me a story that mirrored Riley’s.

She had gone to Riley’s uninvited, and begged him to help her. She even confessed that while she slept in his bed with her son, Riley had hardly spent any time there. When he did come home in the early hours of the morning, he had slept on the couch.

I felt a little better after I hung up the phone, and Riley seemed to think that all was forgiven as I saw him physically relax. But there was still that issue of him lying to me, and choosing her over me that left a bitter taste in my mouth.

“I’m sorry, Riley, I believe that nothing happened between you.” The tears started again as I realised what I was doing. “But you chose her over me, and didn’t tell me you were seeing her, and that I can’t forgive.” I shrugged. “How can I trust you when you keep secrets like that from me?”

If only he had been honest, and told me why he wasn’t coming to see me. I wouldn’t have liked it, but maybe I would have understood, but he never gave me the chance. Instead he was vague, and conveniently chose not to tell me that his ex-girlfriend was staying in his apartment.

I’d already had one relationship built on lies and secrets—there was no way I was going down that path again. Every time I was in Melbourne and he was in Sydney, I couldn’t be wondering if he was spending time with her, even if it was just to help her out.

“Tara, please, I love you,” he begged. “Don’t do this. I’ll do anything; just don’t end it.”

He stepped closer and tried to hold my hands, but I pulled them away. “I’ve been miserable without you these last few weeks, not being able to hold you or hear your voice. Please don’t say we’re over.” The tears were now rolling freely down his cheeks as he pleaded with me. “Tara, I love you, please.”

I shook my head, and walked towards the door. “I’m sorry, Riley, I can’t do this anymore. I can’t be with someone I can’t trust.”

I turned back one last time—just one last time to see the face I loved, and it was just in time to see Riley, with his face in his hands, drop to his knees on the floor.

I
DON’T
care what anyone says: closure is a bitch. It had been just over a month since I had seen Riley, and ended the relationship on my terms. I had thought I would start to feel better, but that was not the case. I went to work because I had to, I struggled to go to the gym, I played the piano, and I was miserable the entire time. That was my life in a nut shell. Even playing at
Songbirds
sometimes felt like a chore, as every song reminded me of Riley.

I was waiting for the light at the end of the tunnel to appear, but it hadn’t, and I was beginning to seriously doubt it ever would. I felt like I was on one of Riley’s training exercises. I’d been mercilessly dumped into the ocean in the middle of the night, and was surrounded by total darkness, just waiting for a life raft to come along and rescue me.

But the worst thing was that I had not heard a single word from Riley. When I walked out the door at
Songbirds
, I was positive that he would not accept that our relationship was over, and I felt sure he would try to call me, beg me to reconsider, but not a peep. Not one single missed call or text message, and that was what hurt most of all. I guess he never did really love me, or maybe he had worked things out with Rebecca, and they were living a blissfully happy life together.

I came so close to calling him so many times, until I deleted his number from my phone so I couldn’t be tempted. If I had just had one call or text from him, I think I may have actually reconsidered. My heart was broken. I was still missing him every second of every day, but obviously he did not feel the same way.

My friendship with Kelli was showing the strain too. I had made her promise not to mention one word about Riley, and I had asked her not to talk about Cooper, either. I figured if she told me what Cooper was doing, then I would also know by default what Riley was up to. This cut our conversations down by half, and the time we did spend together was often awkward, and sometimes silent.

Cole, Marcus, and Jason seemed to be the only people that my breakup had not impacted. Jason was his usual self, and we still caught up for drinks at
Songbirds
or at each other’s apartments. He was patient with me when inevitably every conversation turned to Riley, and offered me his pearls of wisdom when I asked.

Marcus, too, was great; he always had a smile on his face, and let me work as many shifts as I wanted at the bar to help keep me busy.

But it was Cole who had become my knight in shining armour, much to everyone’s surprise, and some people’s disbelief. I’m sure they thought he was just trying to take advantage of me—after all, why else would Cole spend any time with me? The truth was, he was a very broad pair of shoulders to cry on, and was one of the few people who could take my mind off Riley and make me laugh.

I had been in the back room at
Songbirds
one evening, getting ready for work, when Cole burst through the door.

He came over and gave me a hug, and a soft kiss on the cheek. “Looking good, babe,” he said cheekily.

I had stopped crying so much over the last few days, so had taken the time to apply some make-up.

“You almost look human again.”

“I almost feel human,” I said, putting on the best smile I could manage.

“Well, if you want to feel a human,” he said, holding his arms out, “I’m available.”

I laughed, and shook my head. His sense of humour was still a bit mischievous at times, but that was just him, and it was one of the things I liked about him. He didn’t pull any punches, he called a spade a spade, and if you didn’t like it, well, tough luck.

“Hey, I’ve had an idea for how I can help take your mind off Hotshot,” he said, sitting down on the table.

“What? Are you going to offer to bend me over the table like one of your bimbos?” I replied, my arms folded across my chest.

The corner of his mouth twitched. “Well, I could do that if you like.”

His emerald eyes were gazing at me like I’d just planted that image in his brain. “But I was actually going to suggest you do some writing with me. Music always helps me lose myself.” He smirked again. “But I’m open to either suggestion.”

From that night on, every spare evening was spent with Cole either at my apartment, or at
Songbirds
after closing time.

Cole was adept on the piano, but he was just as good on the guitar. We would either sit side by side, tinkling the ivories at the bar, or he would play the guitar, which he started leaving at my place, while I made suggestions.

We were sitting out on my balcony one evening, the fairy lights that were strung around the railing sparkling in the twilight. It was a balmy night, and there was a slight breeze coming in from the ocean.

“Let’s go for a walk on the beach,” Cole suggested. “I’ll take the guitar and we can sit down there, listen to the waves roll in. Maybe it will inspire us.”

It sounded like a great idea. The heat was starting to get to me, and my creative juices were definitely not flowing.

We made ourselves comfortable on the sand, and Cole started playing a piece I hadn’t heard before. It was unbelievable.

“Just a little something I prepared earlier,” he said with a grin.

It was beautiful. It had a hint of flamenco to it, and he played with such skill I was speechless.

Next we went back to the piece we had been toying with, but he added his own spin. Obviously, the change in scenery had worked.

“That sounds awesome,” I said, amazed. “I can’t believe it’s the same song.”

I laid back on the sand, listening to the waves and to Cole play.

“Do you need a pillow?” he asked, looking at me lying on the uncomfortable sand, and stripped off his T-shirt before handing it to me to rest my head on.

“You just can’t seem to keep your clothes on, can you?” I teased, as I folded the top and placed it under my head.

“Only when I’m around you,” he teased back.

He continued playing, and I watched the clearly defined muscles in his shoulders and back flex as he strummed the guitar.

I hadn’t seen his tattoos up this close before, and I took the opportunity while he was concentrating on the guitar to study them. The design on his arm was intricate, the wings on his back, beautiful. I lightly traced the outline of the wings, and he shivered, as he quickly glanced over his shoulder at me with a grin. But he kept playing, so I kept running my fingers across the top of his shoulders, and around the outside of his shoulder blades.

I looked closer still. I was sure I could see words interwoven in the feathers of the wings on his back. I sat up, trying to find more.

“So you’ve finally seen that some of the feathers are actually words,” he said, smiling over his shoulder.

So I was right. I could see
strength
and
beauty
and
courage
. What else could I find? There was
harmony
and
peace
. It was absolutely beautiful. The closer I looked, the more I found.

“Oh my God, Cole,” I murmured, “it’s magnificent.”

He placed the guitar down beside him. “There are about twenty words so far. I get more added as I think of words of significance. Do you really like it?”

I nodded, still trying to find more, but it was getting dark and it was almost impossible to see now.

He then lay next to me, propped up on his elbow. “So, what’s going on with you, babe? You seem to be getting better.”

I looked over at him. Even in this half-light as the sun was disappearing, I could see his eyes examining my face intently.

I gave him a half-smile. “I’m getting there, I think. I only cried twice today, when different things reminded me of Riley.” I rolled onto my side to face him, and propped myself up on my elbow to mirror his body language. “So I guess, give it another month or two, and I’ll be able to go a whole day without crying.”

“So just another month or two to wait before you’re ready to move on?” he asked with a half-smile.