"I know I should call you to have this conversation," the robotic tone of the app read aloud, "but I'm afraid I'll lose my nerve, so here goes.
"What I said last night about still being in love with you, it's true. I do still love you. I never stopped loving you. That was never the problem in our marriage. The problem was I couldn't trust you."
Shade rolled his eyes. She hadn't even tried to trust him.
"I've been thinking maybe we should start over . . ."
Shade dropped his fork. What?
". . . and try to be a family again, you and me and Julie. I think we can make it work. Julie needs a stable environment."
He did agree with that.
"And wouldn't it be nice to come home to a loving wife and a happy home and see your daughter as often as you'd like? I know that's what you want."
It was exactly what he wanted. Strange how Tina recognized his need so clearly. He just didn't want her to be that loving wife. Or the not so loving wife.
"Just think about it. Okay?"
He didn't have to think about it. He didn't want to be involved with Tina again. As much as it pained him, he was deeply in love with her heartbreaker of a sister. He lifted his phone and thumbed in a short reply: No way in hell. But he didn't send it. He deleted it before tossing his phone on the bed so he didn't have to look at it.
Why couldn't he have what he really wanted?
Why couldn't he have Amanda?
He glanced at his phone, wondering if it would do any good to call her. Maybe if he got his GED, she'd decide he wasn't a complete idiot and consider him an equal. Or maybe Tina was the best he could hope for. She said she still loved him-that was something, wasn't it? Amanda had never said the words. Obviously because she didn't feel the way he felt.
Shade pushed his nearly untouched food aside and stood to pull on a shirt. He couldn't stand to sit there alone trapped in his thoughts another moment. He needed to be surrounded by people he could depend on and who wouldn't make him feel lower than a slug's slime trail. He needed to be with the members of his band-his true friends. Or better yet, his fans.
After knocking on a few doors, he discovered that he was the only one staying at the hotel who hadn't yet left for the venue. Had they tried to rouse him or didn't they care that he was struggling?
No, that wasn't fair. They didn't know he was troubled. How could they if he didn't show his distress around them?
Shade found a ride and smiled as the limo drove past the venue. The show wouldn't start for hours, yet Sole Regret fans were already congregating outside the stadium and jockeying to be the first to enter so they could get prime general admission floor space close to the stage. Thousands-hell, millions-of people paid their hard-earned money to watch him perform. What did he care that some schoolteacher didn't want to have anything to do with him? Fuck her.
Shade tapped on the window that separated him from the driver. The glass slid down. "Stop right here and let me out," he said.
"Here?" The driver glanced anxiously at the black-wearing, tattooed, rough-looking crowd trying to peer through the tinted glass of the limo. "But-"
"Stop."
As soon as the car stopped, he opened the door before the press of bodies could trap him inside. It occurred to him that he'd busted Adam's balls for pulling a similar stunt a few days earlier. Crowds could quickly get out of control; Shade knew that. They also stroked his deflated ego; Shade needed that. He realized too late that he should have contacted his security team for assistance before he'd stepped out of the car. But he could command an entire stadium full of badass metal heads to jump and they fucking jumped, so how different could this situation be?
Once the crowd figured out that he planned to stay for a while and that he was genuinely interested in giving all of them some personal attention, they stopped trying to flatten him against the side of the car. Women wanted him, men wanted to be him, and not a single fan made him feel like he wasn't good enough. Their excitement and adulation lifted his spirits into the stratosphere-made him feel like a god. And he loved them for it. He'd been right, not that he was surprised. Shade was the persona he needed to cling to in order to feel good about himself. Jacob could go fuck himself.
Seeing as that loser got dumped every time he fell in love, masturbation was his best option.
Shade's phone vibrated in his pocket with the delivery of a text. His heart raced with anticipation. Amanda?
He scowled. Why was that his first thought every time he got a text? Fuck her.
He fished the device out of his pocket and viewed the message from Gabe. Something about Adam writing lyrics. Shade was too flustered to make out the details of the entire note. He couldn't concentrate on words with all the activity going on around him.