So I just sat there, staring, listening to everything happening around me like a ghost who couldn’t fully participate. It was dark outside now, evening giving way to night, the waning crescent of moon visible over the Hillsborough River like just another eye fixed on us.
Giana left first, making sure Aleks was good to go before she excused herself back to her hotel. Aleks left next, right at the time of our planned fake fight. I stared at the keys extra hard as he prepared to go, knowing if I looked at him again, I’d break all the way down.
He hadn’t stopped it.
As if the call hadn’t been heartbreaking enough, I’d had to sit here and watch him apathetically agree to every step of Giana and Isabella’s plan for tonight. He didn’t try to pull me aside. He didn’t tell everyone to fuck off.
He really was done.
I felt both resigned and desperate as I sat at that piano, each emotion warring for who would win. They tugged on the bones of my rib cage, and I heard each crack as they fought.
“¿Estás bien, mi amor?”
I blinked at the question from Isabella, dropping my hands into my lap as she took a seat next to me on the piano bench.You good, my love?
“Peachy.”
She frowned, sweeping my hair back behind one ear. “One last little bit here, darling. Almost done.”
I nodded, a strained smile on my lips.
“Just think about the ticket sales and all the songs you can write,” she added with a playful nudge.
This time, my eyes welled with tears.
As if my heart wasn’t already broken enough from that boy. As if I couldn’t already fill a whole album with songs about how he’d wrecked me.
“Hey,” Isabella sang, brows pinching together more. “What’s this? Talk to me.”
I sniffed, swiping the tears off my face and forcing a smile. “Just getting ready. I’m about to have to sell a breakup, remember? Need to have a blotchy, tear-streaked face.”
Isabella didn’t look convinced. When she opened her mouth to question me more, I stood abruptly.
“Speaking of which, I should probably get to it. You’re going to stay here until the paparazzi clear out, right?”
“Yes, but—”
“Great. I’ll see you in L.A., babe.”
Another forced smile. A kiss on her cheek. A straightening of my shoulders.
And then I grabbed my suitcase and bolted out the door.
James was on my heels as I tore through the hall and to the elevator, but he didn’t say a word. Not as we climbed inside and I chewed my lip against the emotion building in my chest. Not when we hit the bottom floor and the tears began to spill. Not when he sheltered me as we walked through the lobby and a sob ripped from my throat.
By the time we were walking the short distance from the front doors of the building to the waiting black SUV, I was a mess. A complete and total disaster.
And it wasn’t acting.
The finality of everything hit me like a thousand books to the head, each one a memory of Aleks that I’d never forget. I slid inside the car with camera lights flashing, reporters calling my name and asking what happened while I fell apart for their entertainment.
“Mia! Is it true you and Aleks have split?”
“Who ended it, Mia? Was it you or Aleks?”
“Mia, are the rumors about Aleks cheating true?”
“Mia, is this the end of the wedding plans? Are you calling it off?”
