The Rocker's Muse

Her voice trembled. “You don’t understand, Tristan.” Her eyes filled with tears.

What the fuck is happening?

I brought her close and held her. Her heart was going a mile a minute against my chest. Tightening my hold, I spoke softly in her ear. “You’re not obligated to tell me anything, if you don’t want to. You owe me nothing. I just needed to see you. To make sure you were okay. I’ve thought about you every day. I’ve written songs about you. I’ve held you in my heart. I don’t understand everything, but I’ve never felt like this about anyone before.” I moved back to look at her. “There’s nothing you can tell me that will change the way I feel about you. But I’m not expecting anything. I’ll settle for your friendship…to have you in my life.”

She looked deeply into my eyes. “I’m not who you think I am.”

I stiffened. “You’re not Emily Applewood?”

She sniffled. “I am, but…” Emily looked down at her feet and shook her head.

As much as I was dying to know what the hell was going on, I hated seeing her like this. She needed to calm down. I placed my hand on her chin. “Can you do me a favor?”

She lifted her gaze to mine. “What?”

“I don’t feel like you’re ready to talk about whatever it is you need to say. I don’t like seeing you so worked up. You’ve likely had a long day as it is. Will you let me take you out to dinner before we talk? I doubt you’ve eaten if you came home from work and had to deal with me being here.”

Her eyes were red. “Not sure I’ll have an appetite…”

“Try.” I forced a smile. “Any good Middle Eastern places around here?”

Emily wiped her eyes. “There is one, actually.”

I gestured toward the door. “Let’s go.”

When I offered my hand, she took it. But hers was trembling.

She gave me the name of the restaurant, and I popped the address into my GPS. Emily was quiet during the ride, and I didn’t push her to talk.

The restaurant was about a fifteen-minute drive from her house. Once there, she seemed to calm down a little. By some miracle, we were able to slip into the restaurant and to a corner table without me being recognized.

Emily insisted she wasn’t hungry and was indecisive about what she wanted. So I picked a platter that had a variety of things for us to share. During dinner, Emily answered my questions about the temporary marketing job she’d taken and told me she planned to move back home to Shady Hills to save money once her contract was up. I nearly offered to pay her expenses so she could stay in Henderson, if that’s what she wanted, but I reminded myself not to overstep my bounds or throw around my power obnoxiously. I didn’t own her. According to her, I didn’t even know her.

She picked at her food, still obviously nervous. My appetite wasn’t the greatest either, but this time out had been good if it helped her to calm down even a little.

After dinner, we drove back to her place. Since her roommate remained at work, we were still alone.

She paced in her living room.

“You don’t have to tell me anything, Emily,” I reiterated. “I’m not here to put pressure on you. I’m here to offer my support, to return some of the positive light you’ve brought to my life. I’m not kidding when I say seeing you at the end was what got me through that tour.”

“You don’t understand. I don’t have the option to not tell you. That’s not my choice to make.”

“Alright. I’m sorry. I’m confused.”

“I know.” She looked up at the ceiling and exhaled, closing her eyes for a moment, almost like she was praying. “I don’t know how to start.”

“Start from the beginning…”

She blew out a shaky breath. “I have to think about what that is…”

I placed my hand on her shoulder. “There’s no rush. It doesn’t have to be tonight.”

“It’s not going to be any easier tomorrow.” She swallowed. “How long are you in town anyway?”

“A few days? But it can be longer if you need me.”

“Give me a second,” she said, moving over to the other side of the room. Staring up at the ceiling, she said, “It doesn’t matter how many times I’ve rehearsed this. I just don’t know how to tell you.”