Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 86706 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 86706 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 434(@200wpm)___ 347(@250wpm)___ 289(@300wpm)
Cheyenne seemed to calm a bit. I walked her out and realized her husband had been waiting for her in the car. He and I made brief eye contact as I shut the door.
CHAPTER 26
EMILY
Four long months had passed since I’d confessed everything to Tristan in Henderson. And so much had changed since then. For one, I was now living back home in Missouri.
I was currently in the middle of one of my shifts at Art’s Grill. The air smelled like coffee with a hint of bacon grease at all hours here. I’d been working at this restaurant, where my mother also worked, in order to make money while continuing to look for a permanent job.
Even though I had supposedly been trying to move on—even had a new boyfriend—when I was doing mundane tasks like wiping down the tables, my mind always wandered to Tristan, wondering how he was doing, what he was up to, who he was with. Actually, I knew the answer to the latter. A couple of weeks ago, I’d gone online and a certain headline had smacked me in the face:
Delirious Jones Lead Singer Tristan Daltrey Seen Out on Dinner Date in Paris with Band’s PR Manager
That had stung. Band management had switched PR people when they got to Europe. Instead of Veronica, it was this chick named Nazarene Mercier. She was gorgeous, with long, black hair and gigantic brown eyes. French, I think. Tristan told me he’d had a thing with the band’s PR person in the past, and I wondered if it was the same woman. Maybe they’d brought her back. Maybe he’d brought her back and started things again. In any case, it had been hard to see those photos on social media. But it was what it was. Did I still think about Tristan all the time? Of course. But I had to accept that there was no chance for us.
Shortly before he left for Europe, Tristan had called to catch me up on everything that had gone down with Cheyenne back in Iowa. He’d thanked me profusely for bringing everything to light. But he’d also made it clear that we needed to move on. He hadn’t said why in so many words, but the message was clear to me: he wasn’t going to pursue anything with his dead son’s ex-girlfriend. I couldn’t say I blamed him. His reaction had been what I expected from the start.
Strangely, it had been a relief to get that closure. I didn’t need to hope for a future with him, which would’ve been delusional. But the knowledge of where we stood didn’t take away the ache in my heart. I felt it whenever I thought about the brief time when I’d forgotten who I was and all the pain that came along with that, the brief period when a man had looked at me like I was the most important thing in the world. And when he’d made me feel that way.
The life I lived now, however, was a stark contrast to the tour experience. When my temporary marketing position in Henderson ended, I could no longer afford my apartment in Nevada, even with a roommate. My mother had been urging me to come back for a while so I could save money, and I’d finally caved when things got bad enough.
I’d recently started dating Ethan, a guy I’d gone to high school with. He’d come into the restaurant one night and then started coming in more often. He eventually asked me out, and we’d been dating exclusively for about a month. Ethan was sweet and respectful and everything you could want in a guy. He’d come into my life at what seemed like just the right time, even if he didn’t realize he was helping me try to get over a man who had infiltrated my soul. I’d told him only select things about my time on the tour, none of which included the fact that I’d been involved with Tristan.
Tonight at work was hectic as usual, with a steady stream of customers coming in for a late-night meal or piece of pie. In fact, I’d been so busy tonight that it took me a moment to notice the hysteria in one corner of the restaurant.
Patrons were surrounding someone. Then one of the servers said, “Holy crap. Is that who I think it is?”
Oh my God.
Tristan’s dark hair fell over his face as he signed autographs, each person bouncing away in delight with their prize. He took a few photos with people before he turned and met my eyes.
My heart nearly leaped out of my chest as I approached him. “What are you doing here, Tristan?”
“Hi to you, too.”
“Sorry. I guess I should’ve said hello first.”
“I’m just kidding, Emily. I can understand why this is a total surprise.”