As I watch, a single, glistening tear streaks down Ryder’s face. I watch it roll from the corner of his blue-brown eye, over his chiseled cheek, past his stubbled mouth. I watch it hit the ground.
Splat.
“Thank you,” I say to the crowd in a voice I don’t even recognize.
Turning, I walk off stage, into the wings, leaving behind the thunderous crowd, my loyal bandmates, and the man I love.
I don’t look back.
Chapter Twenty-Nine
ryder
I stand therein the spotlight, broken.
Watching the love of my life walk away and cursing myself for my own reckless anger. I never would’ve brought up the song, if I thought for a single second that she’d actually play it. I heard the crowd call out forMove the Starsand something inside me just… snapped. I couldn’t spend one more instant on this stage, harmonizing with her, without her knowing I’d discovered her secret. The one she’s been hiding from me for weeks.
For months.
For years.
I couldn’t smile and sing about our perfect love, pretending that I don’t know about our baby.
Our son.
Our almost-prince.
Hearing her sing those lyrics… it was so much worse than stumbling across the words in her notebook. Whatever hurt I felt at her deception, whatever anger I experienced when I realized she’s been keeping this from me, whatever rage I endured as I asked myself whether or not she knew, when she walked out on me, that our child was growing inside her…
All that paled in comparison toherpain. Her anguish. Her grief.
What the hell have I done?
I turn to the crowd, feeling like I might drown under the weight of all my mistakes, and clear my throat.
“Thank you so much for coming out tonight, New York!”
Their applause turns to confusion when I turn and walk off stage without finishing the set. I hear a wave of indignation breaking behind me as complaints start hurling from the front row all the way to the nosebleeds.
BRING BACK FELICITY!
WILD-WOOD! WILD-WOOD!
PLAY FADED!
ENCORE!
WE WANT FADED!
I tune them out. I don’t give a shit what they want. What they need.
Right now, the only thing that matters is Felicity.
Racing into the wings, I scan every face backstage, seeking golden eyes and long, dark hair, but I can’t find her anywhere. I’m about to run for her dressing room when I smack straight into Carly. She’s trembling with anger as she stares at me.
“How could you do that!” She pokes me in the chest. “How could you make her sing that song?!”
“I didn’t think she actually would, Carly. I was trying to send a message, and—” I blow out a breath. “Look, I know I fucked up.”