Deep (Stage Dive, #4)(74)
There. Signed and done.
If they needed anything else they could catch up with me later. At a mutually beneficial time when I wasn’t about to have a messy emotional breakdown, possibly involving puking my guts up.
His sister snatched up the contract, hurriedly examining it.
“I’d appreciate it if you’d give me an hour to remove my belongings from the room before returning to it,” I told Ben, not even bothering with the pretense of facing him this time.
“We need to talk,” he said. “Liz.”
“You signed it,” Martha said. “You even crossed out the money.” The look on his bitch of a sister’s face would have been hilarious had I not been in the middle of getting my heart broken. Her brows might never return to normal, they’d risen so high on her perfect forehead.
“I don’t give a f*ck about the contract,” Ben snarled, grabbing hold of my arm.
“If you didn’t give a f*ck about the contract, then it wouldn’t exist.” I tugged my arm from his grasp. “You sure as hell wouldn’t be carrying a copy of it around with you.”
“Sweetheart—”
“No. Never again. I’m never … ever … going through this with you again.” I sucked in a sharp breath. “Don’t feel too bad about it, Ben. You did warn me, after all. I was just stupid enough to believe that maybe I could matter to you as much as you do to me. My bad.”
Still, Martha stared at the papers, stunned.
“You do matter to me,” he said, breathing hard.
“But not enough. Not enough to be honest with me. Not enough to talk to me about this, about your fears … God, did you really think I would be like her?” I pointed a thumb at his abomination of a sister. “That I would cheat? Lie? Use you for money time and again, messing with your life?”
“I love my brother,” Martha shouted.
“You shut your god damn mouth!” Tears poured down my face. I was beyond caring, really. Beyond everything. I rested my hand on my belly, feeling that strange stirring sensation within again. Bean apparently didn’t care for shouting. I lowered my voice accordingly. “I will deal with you when I am good and ready.”
Martha shut it, face still stunned.
“I was never trying to change you,” I said, finding my last ounce of bravery and staring Ben in the face. “I just wanted some of your time, your attention. I wanted to be a part of what you love.”
Dark eyes gave me nothing but grief.
“You’ve got another six or so weeks on tour. I don’t want to hear from you during that time,” I said, turning away. “I’ll make sure any medical updates are forwarded to you. Otherwise … I just … I need a break. From all of this.”
“You’re going back to Portland?” he asked, obviously unhappy. His man-feelings had been hurt. Too bad.
“Yes.”
As expected, Anne opened her mouth, rising to her feet. She’d have my back, of course she would. But I halted her with a hand. “Later.”
She nodded.
I turned toward Martha, tamping down the need to beat her with the nearest solid object. “I don’t have much family, and sadly, your brother seems all too willing to tolerate your borderline personality disorder. But you will never treat my child in a way that is anything less than loving and supportive. Is that understood?”
Numbly, she nodded.
“Good.”
Anne took my hand. Solidarity among sisters, etcetera, and thank god for it. I really needed her right then. Together, with Mal behind us, we left.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
“Are you sure?” my sister asked, not for the first time. Not even for the hundredth, for that matter.
“I’m sure.”
“I don’t like you being sure.”
“I get that.” I sat on the bed in her suite’s spare bedroom, watching as she meticulously packed my case. My underwear had basically been alphabetized. “And I love you for it.”
She sighed, refolding one of my maternity tops for the third time. “I love you too. I’m just sorry it ended this way. He seemed so into you. I really thought he’d get his act together.”
“I guess some people are just wandering souls. They really are better off alone. They need their freedom more than they need love and companionship. Better to find out now than to keep persevering at a relationship that’s ultimately doomed because he’s unable to trust and commit.” I gave her the same brave, what-can-you-do smile I’d been wearing for the last twenty-four hours. My cheeks hurt. Much more and I’d have to ice my face.
“You’re so full of shit,” she sighed.
I smiled some more.
“Stop trying to appear so cool about it. I know full well the * has ripped your beating heart right out of your chest and stomped all over it with his huge black boots.”
“Nice visual.”
“I hate him. Next time we have a band dinner, I’m stabbing him with a fork.”
“You are not stabbing him with a fork,” I said, patting her hand. “You’re going to be perfectly polite and carry on with business as usual.”
Eyes narrowed, she gave me a stubborn look.
“For Mal’s sake,” I said. “I’ll go home and get the nursery sorted. It’ll be fine, Anne. Really.”