Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 81423 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 81423 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 407(@200wpm)___ 326(@250wpm)___ 271(@300wpm)
I handed her some napkins, and she wiped her face. “The point in all that is, I don’t know the situation with you and your boy, but like I said before, I see my son in him. All you can do is love him, support him, and allow him to work through whatever it is he’s dealing with. The two of you have already accepted who you are, personally, it feels like. Well, at least I know you’ve accepted you love each other. You can deny it all you want, and I don’t expect you to confirm it as it’s not my business, but I have eyes in my head and I see how much you love each other. Just love him, Lawson, and let him know you’ll always be there.”
“I will. He’s it for me…he’ll always be it for me.” Remy had always been the one.
She smiled and patted my leg. “I think you guys will be just fine.”
“What if…what if I make things harder for him, simply by loving him or wanting him?”
“Oh, kiddo. Love never makes us weaker. Sometimes it takes us a while to see that, but love makes us stronger.”
I hoped she was right.
Mary Beth and I finished closing up the restaurant. When I was alone in my truck, I sent Remy a text. I love you. Whatever you need, no matter how long it takes, I’m here.
He replied almost instantly. I know. I love you too.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Remington
I’d been home for three days, and nothing had changed. I hadn’t told Mom about Law, and I hadn’t spoken to Leslie about the ways in which I felt she used me. When Mom had asked about who I was supposed to bring, I’d made an excuse. I was in the same holding pattern I’d always kept myself in. Like I knew what was outside of the box—Law, honesty, happiness—but I couldn’t allow myself to do what I needed to do to get out of it.
Why the fuck was it so hard to break down the damn door? To set the box on fire if I had to, because outside of it was my life, what I’d always wanted. Even when Steve—who was still avoiding my calls—said I could come out, would anything really change that much if I did? Would coming out automatically solve everything?
All I’d allowed myself to consider was the fact that I’d be out and then the rest of it would just come to me, but I hadn’t given myself any of the tools I’d need to deal with interviews and people poking into my life. I’d need to deal with the fallout of having my private life the sudden focus of my public life. I knew I wasn’t prepared for the shit-talking and history-digging that would come, all of it guaranteed to suck the life out of my music. Out of me. The anxiety that had overtaken me at Griff’s was proof of that.
But I wanted to be. I wanted it so damn much, so why couldn’t I find a way to grab it?
I was in my room, in the house I’d purchased for Mom and Leslie, but one I called home as well, when my phone rang and Steve’s name flashed on the screen. My heart rate spiked as I answered the call. “About time I heard from you.”
There was a sigh on the other end of the line, and I knew that whatever Steve had to say wasn’t good. I began pacing, running my free hand through my hair as I waited. Was it the Scarlett interview? That had come out, with no dustup over it at the time.
“The label doesn’t want you to come out,” Steve said.
I stopped in front of the window and looked out at all the greenery. His words didn’t surprise me. I hated them, despised them with every fiber of my being, but they didn’t surprise me. “Can they do that?”
“Yes and no. I mean, technically and legally, there’s nothing in your contract for this, so no, they really can’t, but you know how this business works, kid. You only owe them one more album, which could be a good or a bad thing. If you want to work with them again, going against what they say will fuck you. And there’s the chance that, depending on what coming out does to your sales, it could make it harder for you to sign with someone else. If you’re seen as someone who’s hard to work with and goes against what’s recommended…that’s not good, obviously. But there’s also the fact that things are different now than they were when I began. There are a shit ton of indie artists out there, which you know. So, do you need your label? Can you do it on your own? Again, it depends on you and your fan base. There’s also the other part of it. We can’t ignore the elephant in the room. What will all this do to your mental health? I know I asked you before, but are you ready for this? Are you sure it’s what you want? Your first love has always been your music.”