Endless Love Letter (Love Letter Duet Book 2) (2 page)

BOOK: Endless Love Letter (Love Letter Duet Book 2)
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2

W
ithin an hour
, Chelsea had her bags packed and we were on the road headed toward Vegas. I’d never seen Chelsea smile so brightly. Her hand were laced with mine as the sun shone through the car windows. I looked over at her and grinned. She would be my wife and I would love her unconditionally. That was a promise I would make to her. I’d honor her and learn to love her as much as I loved Emilia.

We’d been driving toward Nevada for a few hours and I could see the bright lights of Sin City on the far horizon. The car felt heavy as my foot pressed on the accelerator as if it was telling me not to go.

Life was like a game of chess and I already had my queen: Emilia. But in this current game, I wasn't the king. In chess, the king doesn't fight for the queen. He does not exist without her.

He doesn’t exist without her.

My heart raced as my thoughts swirled. I was a rook. I was willing to die to protect my queen. I gripped the steering wheel and looked over at Chelsea. Every move I had ever made in my life had been calculated. I thought about step three before making step one. But marrying Chelsea was an impulsive move. She was beautiful, caring and loving…

But she wasn't Emilia.

Marrying her wouldn’t solve anything. My heart and soul would belong to Emilia. I was her rook, her bishop, and even if I didn’t get her in the end, I couldn’t continue lying to myself.

I couldn’t marry Chelsea.

I removed my foot from the gas and pulled the car to the shoulder of the highway. I couldn’t go through with this. Not when it wasn’t pure love.

“Weston, what are you doing?” Chelsea questioned as she lowered the radio.

I shifted the car to park and looked over at her. Her eyes were wide, concerned lines creased on her forehead. “I can’t do this.” It took everything I had to admit it to her.

“It's Emilia, right?” She bowed her chin as her voice cracked. Her head shook slightly and a whimper escaped her lips.

“I'm…” I wanted to say sorry, but the words wouldn’t form.

Chelsea shook her head at me and flicked a tear from her cheek. “You don't have to apologize. I should've known better.” She looked up at me, a smile covering her pain.

“Chel—”

“Don’t, Weston.” Chelsea nodded. “I can't replace her and I knew you still loved her. But when you came back to me after the baby, I thought maybe, just maybe I could make you forget her.”

“I never meant to hurt you.”

“I know.” She pulled her gaze away from me and looked down to her hands. “I just wanted to be . . . enough.”

Her words tore through me. I reached across the center console and framed her face. Resting my forehead on hers, I whispered, “It was never my intention to hurt you. I hope you can forgive me.”

Chelsea cried softly. “Drop me off on the Strip. I’ll find my own way home.”

“I can take you home.”

“No.” She kept her eyes low and shook her head. “I’m good staying here for a few days before heading back.” Chelsea pulled away from my hold and looked at the skyline. “I need a few days before I go home.”

There was a heaviness in the air as I drove toward the Strip. The guilt weighed heavily on my chest.
But not as heavilyy as it would have if I’d married her.

I pulled my car up to the Aria Casino, and Chelsea reached back grabbed her bag from the back seat, kicked my car door open and hopped out. She paused before shutting the door. “If you two love each other this much, Weston, get your shit together because there are other people involved, including a child. You two need to grow up.”

Before I could respond, she slammed the car door and walked away from me. I wanted to tell Chelsea I was sorry, but at the moment I realized not only had I let Emilia go forever when I didn’t stop her wedding, but I had foolishly hurt Chelsea.

3

L
ondon Four Years Ago
.

We sat on the long couch in the studio as the track played. The red carpet was stained from years of musicians living in the small room day and night, and the stench of cigarettes wafted through the air.

The first two demos we submitted to the record label were rejected. We’d been here for three months and this was the first time the music exec was listening to our track. Rich’s eyes squinted and his lips were pressed in a fine line as he listened to Axel’s drum solo. I couldn't gauge his reaction, so each second that passed felt like an hour. 

“Well?” Paulie asked when the song finished. 

Rich leaned back on his chair and crossed his ankle over his knee. He sucked on his teeth before he spoke. “It's not what the studio envisioned for you guys. It doesn't seem mainstream.”

“We're not alternative pop,” Harry interjected.

This had become a constant argument between us. They threw different tracks at us that were produced by someone other than myself with words that never matched our style of music. They had gone as far as to prerecord the guitar and drum solos. All we had to do was the vocals. That wasn’t how we did our music. It was fucking bullshit. But Rich was holding us by our balls—paying for our studio time and apartment. We had to do what they wanted.

I lowered my head and picked at my fingernail as Paulie and Rich discussed what he wanted us to work on. This wasn’t how I’d pictured London.

I’d packed up, left my girl behind, to be unable to record my own songs. I ignored the screaming voice in my head that said to catch the next flight to LA. This was the dream we worked so hard for. This was the reason I walked out of Emilia’s apartment.

And for what? Fucking nothing.

We had been here three months and nothing we did was good enough. To them our music sucked, and the songs we’d written were garbage. We’d envisioned being here a few weeks, recording our music and then heading home. I’d told myself a few weeks and I would go back to her and follow her dreams. It was supposed to be a few weeks, a few fucking weeks.

It was now three months.

Paulie scratched the back of his head and looked over at me. “The good thing is you guys still have music to make.” He threw his hands up in defeat as Rich pushed off the table, said good–bye and walked out of the studio.

“Not our music,” Axel grunted.

“Listen, you guys do it their way with the first album, see how things go, and by the second album you’ll be recording all original songs,” Paulie said hopefully.

“That's bullshit!” Harry stood and kicked his chair.

I stood and walked over to the soundboard. “We got to play the game.” Scratching the back of my head, I exhaled. I hated that we agreed to their songs, but we had to do it their way first before they trusted us to do it our way.

Six months.

That was all they were getting.

I would have the guys in the studio every single day and we’d record their songs. I’d master each track in, and on our downtime, we would write our own songs.

Six months.

I thought we would have two complete albums and enough material for me to go back home and find her.

Six months.

And I would make her fall in love with me all over again.

N
ine months later
.

I’d always considered myself to be a smart man. I believed that when opportunity knocked, one answered. The contract we had with North Records seemed like an opportunity at the time.

It wasn’t.

We had been in London for nine months and we only had six tracks recorded for the first album.

Six tracks.

They had hired some producer who said he knew what he was doing, but he didn’t have a clue. In reality, London had turned into a shit show.

I was in the bedroom I shared with Axel packing my shit when Paulie pushed opened the door. I’d had it with this hellhole and I was planning to catch the first flight home. I could hear the music and the girls Harry had in the other room. He was fucking anything he could find. 

“My man, you have to come see these bitches Harry brought home,” Paulie said. I didn't respond, just kept shoving my clothes in my duffle bag. “What's the matter, West?”

“I'm done with this shit,” I said through gritted teeth. “I came here to write music and record my songs, not this bullshit excuse for music.”

His smile dropped from his face and he stood tall. “Dude, you can't pack up and leave like this.”

“Watch me.” I ground my teeth.

“You're in a contract,” Paulie reminded me.

“I don't give a fuck. I left my life behind for this.” I waved my hand to the shithole flat we lived in. “Nah, man.” I shook my head in disgust. “Fuck that. I had what I wanted back home.”

“Oh, I see.” Paulie paused, his voice dropped an octave. “You're still heartbroken. It's been almost a year since you left. You think she'll be there waiting for you?”

“Go fuck yourself, Paulie. I won't know until I try.”

“Listen, man, leaving right now would be detrimental to your career and the guys’ careers, too.”

I threw my duffle bag against the wall. “Fuck!” The fucking guilt pressed on my chest making it hard to breathe.

“Just a few more months and then you guys can do shit your way.”

I scrubbed my hands through my hair. “I don't know if I have a few months left in me to give.”

“If it's about pussy, we can find you that here. Hell, Harry has a handful in the living room.”

I shook my head. It wasn't about getting laid. Emilia was my muse, and not having her near me made it impossible to write anything worth singing.

Paulie walked over to the door and closed it. “Okay, I wanted you to find out on your own, but since you look like a lovesick puppy, it might be best if I tell you now.”

“Where you going with this?”

“She's moved on, man.”

“What?” I blinked quickly as I attempted to process what he was saying.

“Emilia.”

“How would you even know?” I shook my head, doubting everything he was saying.

“One of my boys lives around the corner from her. He joked that she must've been easy since someone had already taken your spot.” Paulie shrugged.

I inhaled my distraction and ran my hands through my hair, massaging my scalp. “Where the fuck are you going with this?” My anger boiled. Who the fuck did Paulie think he was? “Really?” I pushed against his chest. “We've gotten to the point that we make up shit?”

“Listen, West.” Paulie threw his hands up in the air. “You're about to throw your entire career away for pussy. If that's what you want, you make sure it’s fucking worth it. Call someone over there to confirm what I’m telling you.”

“I’m not doing this shit with you. I’m recording this fucking music and I’m gone.” There was no point in talking to Paulie. He had always seen Emilia as a distraction. If I’d only known then what he’d done to Emilia I would have fired his ass right then and there. Right now I had to put my music first and then find a way back home to get her back.

I never called anyone to see if there was someone there with her. I didn’t want to know the truth. It would have destroyed me to know that there was someone else in her life. Deep down I knew she would eventually move on, but I’d banked on winning her back.

I just didn't know that it would be four years before I got to go home. 

4

P
resent
.

I
sat
at the soundboard in the studio we had reserved watching Axel as he worked his magic on the drums. Though the Realm Studio provided us with a producer, I was meticulous about producing our music. I didn’t want to work with songwriters or listen to tracks from other producers.

We were on the third take and Axel’s sweat dripped down his face as he banged the wooden drumsticks. We’d been in the studio a week straight. We were trying to get as many studio sessions in as possible before Sally gave birth.

Axel had always been a whore who fucked anything that wanted a piece of him, but now he was about to be a father and he took that role seriously. He cleaned up his act, became faithful to Sally, and never looked at another girl. The guy who was willing to stick his dick in everything was now about to become a father.

I tried to push away my jealousy. He would get to experience the birth of his son, and he would be the first one to hold him. My thoughts spiraled to Lyra. I had her every other weekend, and two nights during the week I took her out for dinner. I cherished every second I spent with her.

Emilia and I hadn't really spoken one on one since the first time I met Lyra. Anytime I spoke to her it was via text message and it was only about Lyra. Emilia only had one simple rule: we were not to ask Lyra about each other’s personal lives. Not that I had a personal life anymore. Nor did I want to know about their wedded bliss. My focus was music and my daughter, but there were times I wanted to ask Lyra if her mommy was really happy with Jeremy.

Why I cared?
Who the fuck knows.

Maybe it was the fact that every time I dropped her off at their home, Jeremy stood tall, watching over them as if I was an outsider. Or maybe it was that I refused to let him have my family. I refused to go on any tours or do any shows that were for long periods of time. With Sally about to pop, we had the perfect excuse to take some time off, and I planned to spend that time with Lyra. 

My Lyra, my sweet little princess. She was a character. A free spirit with a beautiful, loving heart. At almost four years old, she showed no hatred and loved all, not to mention, she had a passion for music. She was always dancing, singing, or tapping her hands to make some type of beat. 

She was daddy’s little girl.

Emilia’s name appeared on the screen of Axel’s phone. It stopped ringing and Sally’s named appeared seconds later. I stopped the track and tapped on the glass, motioning for him to come out.

“Your phone’s blowing up.” I tossed it over to him when he opened the studio door. Axel called Sally back and he looked like he had seen a ghost.

“Everything all right?” I asked when he dropped the phone. 

“She's having the baby.” His hands gripped the sides of his hair. “The baby is coming. Oh my God, she's having the baby!” He began to hyperventilate.

“It’s all right, man! It's going be okay.” I pulled his hands away from his temples. “Why don't I drive you to the hospital so you don't miss this?”

“Bloody hell! I'm going to be a father.” Axel looked up at me with wide eyes.

“Welcome to the club.” I patted his back.

O
n the car ride over
, Axel called the rest of the guys and Sally’s mom, Suzanne, tapping his hands on his knees the entire time. His anxiety was causing me to panic.

I followed him toward the maternity wing. Pete was already in the waiting room slouching on a chair when we arrived. Axel rushed to the nurse’s station.

“My girlfriend is back there.”

“Okay.” The nurse smiled back at him. “Last name?” 

“Campbell.”

“Have a seat, someone will be right out to escort you.” She pointed to the chairs where Pete was sitting.

I tapped Axel’s shoulder and directed him toward the chairs. He brushed me off and began to pace the small waiting room, but the sliding doors flung open and out walked Emilia with a wide grin on her face.

She looked more beautiful with each day that passed. Her hair was tossed up and loose curls framed her face. Her skin radiated as she walked toward Axel. She was so fucking perfect.

“She's doing great. They just gave her the epidural.” She reached for the lanyard around her neck. “She's in room 405. Be patient and hold her hand. Tell her she is beautiful and remind her constantly how much you love her.” Emilia lifted on her toes and kissed his cheek.

The pep talk seemed to whip Axel into shape. He took a deep breath and walked toward the door.

Emilia cleared her throat and sat across from me in the waiting room. She gave me a shy smile before pulling her phone from her bag. I tried to return the smile, but I couldn’t stop the voices in my head. I had missed this when she had Lyra.
I could have been Axel.
I could have held Emilia’s hand and told her she was beautiful.

Since her wedding a few weeks ago, we’d never been alone without Lyra or someone else present. There were times she seemed like a complete stranger and not like the Emilia I knew—the one who had imprinted every laugh, sigh, moan and whimper in my mind.

She still worked at SoCal but as a director of the band rather than our point person. She was the mother of my child so anything else was considered unethical. Emilia continued to have a bird’s eye view of what we were working on, but we now worked directly with Stacy. I hated it.

She wouldn’t look up at me, and the sterile scent of the hospital was getting to me. Pete kept tapping his hands on the chair as he and Emilia talked about different bands and her father. She talked to anyone but me.

I stood and paced the small waiting room like Axel had done. I was cracking my knuckles for the third time when Suzanne barged into the waiting room.

Her face was flushed as she desperately tried to catch her breath. “Did I miss it?” She placed her hand over her heaving chest.

Emilia rushed to her side and guided her to an empty chair. “No, not at all. Axel’s in there with her now.”

“Thank you for being there with her, Emilia,” Suzanne panted.

Emilia rubbed Suzanne's shoulder. “Why don’t you take a few long deep breaths? Today is a big day for you too, Grandma.”

Feeling like I needed to help, I asked, “Can I get you some water?” Emilia nodded, so I jogged over to the nearest vending machine, fed the money and waited for the bottle of water to drop. Was this what it was like, the nervous feeling at the pit of your stomach as you waited for your child to come into the world? Axel would get to hold his son for the first time. He would be there for every moment, every milestone.

Exhaling my jealousy, I gripped the cold bottle and marched back to the waiting room. Emilia and Suzanne were sitting on the chairs, and Suzanne was holding Emilia’s hand.

“Are you and Jeremy expecting? Your skin is glowing and you have this look,” Suzanne asked.

I stopped and waited for her to respond. I should have given her the bottle of water and interrupted the conversation, but I needed to know her answer.

A beautiful smile grew on her face. “No, not yet, but we're trying,” Emilia said coyly.

I wished I had taken longer at the vending machine. A few seconds longer would have made all the difference. It was like the universe constantly kept kicking me when I was down. My blood boiled with anger. “Are you going to tell the father this time? Or are you going to lie and then keep the child away from him for the next four years, allowing a complete stranger to raise his daughter?”

Emilia’s eyes widened, but I didn’t feel a drop of regret. She’d lied. She’d taken it all away from me.

“West…” Pete stood and placed his hand on my shoulder.

“You know what? Fuck it. Have as many kids as you want. I don’t give a fuck!” I tossed my hand in the air and walked away.

I’d turned the corner when the regret of what I said seeped into me. Emilia and I needed to talk, but it was unfair for me to blow up in her face. A part of me wanted to apologize, another part wanted to yell some more.

I could hear the conversation she was having with Pete. “I'm sorry,” Pete apologized for me. “He can be an asshole sometimes.” Pete laughed, trying to make light of the conversation.

“It's fine, really,” Emilia said softly. “I kept his daughter away from him, and he has
every
right to be mad at me. This can’t be easy on him. So, if he has to chew me out to get through it, I can take it. I deserve it.”

Needing fresh air, I willed my feet to move from where I stood and walked out of the hospital.

T
he car fumes
and the blare of ambulances drowned out my thoughts and I was able to clear my head. For over an hour, I sat against the building with my arms resting on my knees and my gaze lowered to the ground. I was working a new song in my head when Emilia came and sat next to me. I didn’t need to look up to know it was her. Her perfume invaded my senses, and whatever I was working on vanished from my head. She didn't say anything for a few minutes. Her shoulder was a few inches away from mine, so close that if I leaned over I would be able to touch her. Her soft voice pushed the thought of touching her to the side.

“It's a healthy baby boy. Edward John Arrington, named after both of their dads. Axel is overjoyed and he's asking for you.” She shifted to face me.

I pulled my gaze off the pavement, looked over at her and was greeted with a small grin. “I'm sorry for what I said, Em.” I wanted to stay mad at her, but she had a direct line to my heart. It was at her mercy.

“There's no need to apologize. I deserve it. I deserve your hatred.”

I didn't respond. I couldn't tell her that I didn't hate her because I wanted to hate her. I wanted to hate her for what she did to me. It was as simple as that.

“Lyra asked if she can spend her birthday night with you.” Her voice changed to a happier tone as she changed the topic. A breathtaking smile was present on her face. “She asked if she could spend the night.”

“She did?” I asked. I knew Lyra would be spending her actual birthday with me.

“Yeah.” Her smile grew. She was glowing with beauty.
Suzanne was right.
“I told her I would have to speak with you first. I'm not sure if you wanted to have her over given that you and Chelsea are…” The smile faded from her face.

“My parents are actually down for that weekend.” I didn’t want to tell her about Chelsea just yet. It still hurt her, and a part of me needed to hold that over her for a bit longer. “I told my mom I would have Lyra for her birthday and I rented a house in Laguna Beach for us all to stay.”

Emilia’s eyes glowed with happiness. “How’s your mom? And Mama?”

“Really good. They can’t wait to meet Lyra.”

“I’m glad.” Her eyes looked deep into mine. “We're having a small birthday party for her the night before. It would be really nice if you could swing by. I know she would love it. And then maybe after we cut the cake she can go with you.” She cocked her head to the side and gnawed on her lower lip.

“I don't want to intrude on your party.”

“It's not my party, it's Lyra’s party, and you're her father. You should be there.” She placed her hand on my knee for a second and pulled it away.

“Okay, I'll be there.” An awkward silence passed between us before I stood. “I'm going to go up and see Sally and Axel.” I didn't wait for her to reply as I walked away.

“Weston?” I turned to face her. Her gaze was kind. Her shoulders were hunched forward and she huffed. “Thank you for making it easy with Lyra.”

I shrugged and gave her a sideways grin. “Anything for my little girl, babe.”

BOOK: Endless Love Letter (Love Letter Duet Book 2)
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