Drive(61)

Hazel eyes stared through me as I stood with my heart in my throat. A long, wordless exchange took place, and for a second, I saw the man I love come back, his eyes focused, his hesitance speaking volumes. And then I knew. “No.”

His voice was full of residual anger and defeat. “I have to.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. I get it. Okay? I get it. You’ve had a rough couple of months, but you’re so close to something. Can’t you see it?”

“No.”

“Then believe me,” I said, taking a step toward him.

“Stop. This isn’t a fucking fairytale, Stella. Life doesn’t magically start happening for anyone. Things don’t just begin to go your way because you try. I’m living proof. I tried, Stella. I tried so hard.”

“It happens! It happens and you know it.” I clung to hope. “You only see the success of others, Reid. You have to dig deeper to find out how long it took them to get there. It takes years!”

“I don’t have years, Stella.”

“Reid—”

“I can’t fucking afford to believe anymore!”

He’d never yelled at me before. And I could see his regret the minute he did. He flinched as I moved toward him. I was no longer scared of him; I was terrified for him. Shoulders slumped, his chin to his chest, I felt his thread snap.

“One minute past desperation,” I whispered. “You have to wait one minute past desperation, Reid. That’s when it happens. You’ll get a break. You will. It’s coming,” I assured him as he looked at me with disbelieving eyes. “Come on, let’s get out of here. Help me unpack my place and then we’ll go have some fun. You need to be inspired. I know just the place.”

Glaring at me, he dug into his pocket and slammed five dollars and change on his counter. “I can’t go anywhere! I can’t afford to buy my woman a goddamned meal!”

“And you know I don’t care about that. We don’t need money. I don’t need anything.” But you.

He scoffed. “You’re so na?ve.”

“Stop. I’m in this with you. You know that, Reid. Let’s go to The Garage. Playing always makes you feel better.”

“There is no more Garage. I’m out of the band. I sold my drums to Jason last night. I’m leaving.”

“Last night?” The blood drained from my face and I felt faint. “Why, why, why would you do that?”

“I’m going back to Nacogdoches to live with my parents. My mom needs my help with my dad.”

“You knew last night?”

“I knew a month ago,” he said with a gravelly voice. “And then you happened. I tried, Stella. I just got another job to start graveyard next week, and with the gigs, I thought I could swing it. But it’s too late. I got evicted yesterday.”

He had tried to keep from leaving before he ever touched me. He had stayed for me. It felt beautiful and horrible at the same time. Tears slipped out one by one as I realized the gravity of it all.

“That’s why you let Lia take everything?”

He gave a sharp nod. And my fight kicked back in.

“I’ll help. I’ll do whatever I can—”

“Like what? Shoving tips into my books? Your sister told me about that, Stella.”

I would never speak to her again.

“I can’t make it here and keep sending everything to my mother. I can’t fucking make it. I have to go.”

“You can stay with me. I want you to stay with me.”

“I want you to stop trying to take care of me! Goddammit, Stella, stop!”

My heart plummeted as he looked around his living room and then made a beeline for his bedroom. Following him with a flat-lining heart, I watched him pull out a large duffle and begin loading his clothes. “I can’t stay with you, Stella. I just can’t. I don’t want to screw things up for you. And my mom needs me.”

“She doesn’t deserve your help! They got themselves into their own mess. She doesn’t deserve you as a son!”

“Stop,” he said softly. “She’s my mother. And I’ve explained this to you.”

“And I’m the only woman that’s behind you. ME!”

“And I never asked you for that.”

It was a sledgehammer to the stomach. “I’m going to forget you said that.”

“Fuck,” he said through a ragged breath as he ran a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. I don’t regret a single thing that happened between you and me. But I can’t stay here. I just can’t stay.”

“We can—”

“Stella, I want to go.”

“You want to go?” My voice cracked. “Reid,” I said breathlessly, “what about us?”

He began ripping T-shirts from hangers, then kicked the cheap plastic sock drawer he had against the wall.

When he didn’t answer, my angry heart began to speak for me.

“Me, too. I gotta go, huh? It’s not enough to leave the band, everyone else goes, too.”

He stopped with his shirts in hand, only to drive his fists through the wall of his closet. Punishing and relentless, it shredded easily under his heavy throws. Screaming in surprise, I shrank into the discarded pile of shirts while I watched him self-destruct. When he collapsed on the floor, exhausted and sweat pouring off of his brow, he drew his legs up and cupped his knees as blood seeped from his knuckles. Moving fast, I inspected his hands and saw he hadn’t broken anything. I rushed to his bathroom and grabbed a washcloth, wet it, and raced back to him. He allowed me mere seconds to clean them while he stared blankly at the ruined wall. “It’s fine.” He jerked away and began stuffing his duffle again. Standing in front of him, I gripped his bag and tried to force his eyes on mine.