“Your journal? I didn’t know you write.”
I blew on another steaming spoonful of soup. “Therapy.”
“I started writing for the same reason. Only my writing turned into lyrics.”
“Mine will never turn into anything,” I said firmly. “It’s really just snippets of things that hit me. I once lost someone close to me, and writing was a recommended way of dealing with the loss.”
“Damien?” he guessed.
I shook my head.
“Who else did you lose, Jimi?” His voice was soft. He’d set an intimate tone, a quiet confessional to make me feel comfortable.
I stared down at my bowl of soup, contemplating. I was pretty sure we were past the pretenses. I was pretty sure it was okay to let him in after everything we’d been through.
I was pretty sure that I wanted to confess everything about my past to him—why I felt like I had a dark shadow that followed me, why I felt like he had no chance against the darkness that surrounded me.
Why I was terrified that he’d be the third loss of my life.
I blew on another hot spoonful of soup. I shoved it into my mouth. I glanced up at him. He was staring at some fixed spot on the table. And then, I finally answered his question. “My best friend.”
His eyes darted to mine, full of sympathy. “What happened?” he asked quietly.
I took a deep breath. I hadn’t had to tell this story to many people, but it never got easier. I let out my breath before I spoke. “She was a freshman in college. She was four years older than me, and she was like an older sister to me. My dad and her dad were—are—best friends. She was brutally murdered by her boyfriend.”
“Mikey’s daughter?” His voice was flat. I nodded as I wondered what he was thinking.
I stared at the same spot on the table where Parker had focused, unable to move my eyes, unable to think or to concentrate on anything else. I needed his words. I needed his perspective.
People always say “I’m sorry for your loss” when someone dies. I heard that probably three hundred times from when Fern and I had first learned that Katie had been killed until her funeral, and even beyond that through the trial.
I wasn’t sure what anybody was apologizing for. Those apologizing to me didn’t kill her. The only one who I wanted an apology from was locked up in prison and would be for a very long time. And I knew I’d never get the apology from him.
It wouldn’t bring her back, anyway.
I wished I could express all of that to Parker, but I couldn’t seem to form the words around the lump in my throat and the sadness I still held in my heart. I missed Katie every single day. Time made it easier to deal with the loss, but it certainly didn’t ease the pain.
“I wish I had the words that could take your pain away, Roxanna. I write words for a living, but nothing I say could ever change your tragedy.”
I looked up at him. His eyes were warm and sincere when they met mine.
Of all of the things he could have said in that moment, I hadn’t expected that. I wanted to leap out of my chair and hug him for saying the exact right words to me, which was ironic, considering he said he didn’t have the right words.
They were perfect.
He was perfect.
And his words only told me that he’d been through an equally painful loss in his own life. He’d lost someone who he loved, too.
The only way you become better at dealing with tragedy is by living through it.
My eyes moved away from his, and I focused on my bowl of soup again. “Life is just a series of tragedies,” I finally said.
“That’s pretty cynical for a girl full of so much light.”
“It’s the truth.”
“I respectfully disagree. Life is pleasure occasionally interrupted by shit. How you deal with the shit is what shapes your character. You experience, you grow, and you move on. You never forget. You never stop loving. But you learn to live your new reality. You learn to find pleasure in the ordinary and you learn to appreciate the good because you’ve had the luck to experience it after a tragedy.”
“You sound like you’re speaking from experience.”
He stared into the candle on the table, as if in a brief trance. The light flickered in his eyes. He looked conflicted, like he wanted to tell me things, but he wasn’t sure if he was ready.
I hadn’t been ready, either, but I had told him anyway.
“Who did you lose?” I asked.
His eyes flicked from the tiny flame atop the candle up to my eyes.
“I’ve lost a lot in my life. I’ve lost jobs and I’ve lost homes and I’ve lost family. I’ve lost people I care about and I’ve lost people I could’ve done without in the first place. But one thing I can promise you is that I will never, ever lose you.”
I glanced down from the fire in his eyes to the ring on my finger.
I couldn’t help but wonder.
This was all brand new, but about a million “what-if” questions popped into my head.
What if I didn’t want to fake an engagement?
What if he didn’t either?
But what if he did?
What if I wanted it to be real?
What if his promise that he’d never lose me was sincere?
What if it wasn’t?
Only time could answer any of those questions, and tonight wasn’t the night for that.
My eyes met his once again. “I won’t lose you, either,” I said, my voice fierce despite my physical weakness after the rough night we’d shared.
five
Days passed in a haze of concerts and tightened security. Somewhere along the way I’d moved from the personal assistant to Gideon Price to the traveling fiancée of Parker James. I was still assisting as much as I could, but George had taken on the majority of my duties so that I could stay glued to Parker’s side.
I didn’t hate the extra time around Parker.
I had to admit that Roxanna Cecelia James had a nice ring to it. Roxy James.
If I had my journal, I’d be practicing my signature. But it was still missing.
I had to constantly remind myself that this was a fake engagement, a sham, something simply to throw Randy off of our trail so that he’d leave Parker alone.
But it felt real. The way Parker tended to my every need despite the fact that this tour was a huge break for his band showed me how sincere he was in his feelings for me.
Every time I brushed my teeth with my new purple toothbrush, my eyes filled with tears. It was a silly thing to cry over, but it was one of those things that showed me what kind of future I’d have if we really did get married someday. He’d go out to buy me a toothbrush at any time of the night just to make sure I was comfortable.
The insecure part of my brain told me that maybe he just didn’t want to smell my breath after I’d thrown up. I hushed down that part of my brain and focused on the feel of Parker’s warmth that seemed to surround me wherever I was, regardless of whether we were together.
I still hated that I hadn’t been informed about the surprise engagement ahead of time, but the past couldn’t be changed. I knew that better than anyone. And after the way my dad and Parker had united together to ensure my safety, I had a hard time staying mad at either of them. I was terrified of what potentially lay out there where Randy was concerned, so my choices were pretty limited. I could hold a grudge and continue to be angry with both of them, or I could get over it and try to enjoy the time we had left on tour.
After Raleigh, the tour took us through Charlotte, Atlanta, Nashville, and St. Louis before we had a two-night engagement in Chicago. We were past the midway point of the tour, and while I constantly felt Randy’s threatening presence surrounding us, I felt the safety of the bubble created by Parker, my dad, and my dad’s security team.
It wasn’t until we arrived in Chicago that something happened again.
And it proved my hunch had been right.
Parker was originally from Chicago. We were slated to spend four nights in Chicago, two of which were performance nights. It was big venue and always drew a huge crowd.