Her answer was curt, like she couldn’t say anymore. And she didn’t have to. She knew so much. She knew too much. How could I fix this? Especially from here. A surge of agony washed through me as I struggled for something to say, anything that would make this better for her. Easier. There really wasn’t anything for me to say, except an acknowledgement of the truth. She knew why I had so many…dalliances. Hopefully that would keep her near me, instead of finally pushing her away. But how long would she keep accepting me? Hopefully, for the rest of my life.

“I’m sorry, Kiera. I never wanted you to have to hear about…them. If I could stop the gossiping, you know I would.” I’d give anything to erase myself from everyone’s memory but hers. Anything.

There was guilt in her voice when she responded to me, like she hadn’t meant to bring any of that up. “You don’t have to apologize, Kellan. It’s…water under the bridge, really.”

Water under the bridge? I supposed it was, but still, if the bridge wasn’t stable enough, if there were cracks in the foundation, then that torrent of water beneath the bridge was no longer insignificant. It was inevitable doom where the past would reclaim us, drown us. Please let us be stable.

Before I could say anything to that, Kiera lightened her voice and tried to change the subject. “What about you, what have you been up to?”

Her simple question reopened a gaping wound, and I instantly filled with pain. And guilt. I should tell her about Hailey, about Gavin. I opened my mouth to do it, but I couldn’t make the sounds. She won’t understand. She’ll poke and prod and will never leave it alone. She’ll try and force something I don’t want. I can’t deal with this right now…

Suddenly weary, I told her a half-truth. “Just shows and traveling. I’m so sorry I haven’t had a chance to come home yet. With us on the road between shows, there just hasn’t been enough time to fly back to you.” And now that I was here, doing it, I could see that my original hope of seeing her on occasion wasn’t as practical as I’d originally thought. It killed me that she was just out of reach. Always just out of reach. Maybe that was the true story of my life.

“I know,” she sighed. “I miss you…so much.”

The wistfulness in her voice broke me, but at the same time, it warmed me. It also brought an ache to the surface. A needy, physical ache, but also a lonely, emotional ache, an ache that could never be satisfied, not without her in my arms. But I wanted her to know how much I still longed for her, how profoundly I missed her.