Dirty Letters(72)

“I’m sorry if I worried you at all.”

An inexplicable feeling of dread filled me.

“Luca . . . ,” I said, “tell me what’s on your mind. Please.”

After the longest moment of silence ever, she finally said, “I don’t want to hold you back anymore, Griffin.”

“You’re not holding me back . . . I—”

“You say that because you love me, but the truth is . . . I am and I just . . . I can’t . . .”

She can’t.

My heart began to race. “Can’t what? Say it, Luca. I need to hear it.” My tone was bordering on angry. “You need to be very clear here. Very clear.”

“I can’t be the person you need,” she finally said. “At least not right now. I feel this pressure to get over my fears at a pace that’s just not realistic. I keep feeling like I’m holding up your life . . . and I feel like that pressure is too much to bear. It’s weighing me down and I . . . can’t breathe anymore.”

Fuck. This was really happening.

I was really losing her.

I felt helpless.

How could I even attempt to fight for her if she was telling me that the fight was suffocating her? I always told myself I’d know if I needed to let her go—if it ever got to that point where it felt like being together was doing her more harm than good. Even though ending things didn’t feel natural, it felt like I had no choice but to listen to her.

“You want to break up? Is that what you’re telling me, Luca? I need you to be clear with me.”

Her voice was shaky. “I think that’s for the best right now. I do think we should break up.” She let out a breath that sounded like she’d been holding it in.

Well, it couldn’t get any clearer than that. I heard the words, but I still couldn’t believe them.

“Okay.” I swallowed. “How do we handle things? Does this mean we don’t talk anymore?”

I could hear her crying on the other end, and I suspected that was because the reality of what she’d just done had hit her. Me, on the other hand? I was just numb . . . still not wanting to believe what she was telling me.

“I don’t know,” she answered. “I don’t know what would be best. Because hearing from you would be painful and not hearing from you would be even more painful.”

More anger was slowly creeping in. I was so disappointed at life—at her. At everything.

“Why don’t we just take it one day at a time. I haven’t even begun to process this. But I heard you loud and clear, Luca. Okay? I heard you loud and clear.”

Things went quiet again, and then she muttered, “I’m so sorry, Griffin.”

“I’m sorry, too, love. I really am. More than you could ever know.”



I’d never canceled a show in my entire career. But I just couldn’t perform that night in Minneapolis. I’d faked a flu-like illness and created a shit storm of a logistical nightmare for my tour manager and publicist. But it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered. Tomorrow I knew I would somehow pick myself up to perform in the next city, but I needed tonight to mourn. This was my first time playing the sick card; I’d earned this breakdown.

It took everything in me not to call Luca and check on her. Every hour, I found my finger hovering over her name in my text messages. Eventually, I opted to call Doc instead. At least, through him, I could make sure she was okay without upsetting her. I wasn’t even certain she’d told him that she’d broken up with me.

He answered. “Hello?”

“Doc. It’s Griffin.”

“Oh . . . Griffin. Is everything okay?”

The words just wouldn’t come out. For the first time since I could remember, perhaps when Mum died, I felt tears forming in my eyes. It was bound to happen, I supposed. Even though I wasn’t saying anything, he could clearly surmise that something was wrong.

“Tell me what happened, son. Is it Luca?”

“She ended things earlier today.”

His breath hitched.

Wiping my eyes and fighting the damn tears, I continued. “I wanted to let you know in case she hadn’t told you yet, so that you can look out for her and make sure she’s okay. Because I know it wasn’t easy for her.”

“I’m sorry to hear this. I really am. I know how hard you’ve tried to make her happy and to make things work.”

“It wasn’t hard enough, apparently.”

“I’ve never witnessed anyone work harder to save a relationship, Griffin. You did everything you could. Luca is just not ready, as much as she wishes she could be—as much as I know she truly loves you.”

“I know she loves me . . . as much as she could love anyone. That’s why it hurts to have to accept this. I’m hurting not only for myself but because I somehow know she’s hurting even more. I know this wasn’t easy for her . . . to let me go.”

“No, I can only imagine,” he said. “I’m glad you told me, because I hadn’t heard from her all day, and now I know why.”

“I canceled my show tonight, Doc. Thousands of people paid to come see me, and I stood them up because I couldn’t bear to sing when I feel so destroyed inside.” I exhaled. “You know I wrote a song about her, back when I was angry at her before we reunited. Did she ever tell you that?”