His Secret Obsession by Nichole Rose

 

Chapter Four

Gwen

 

"Oh my gosh, Gwen," Piper Daniels says, rushing around the front desk toward me when I stumble off the elevator. "Are you okay? What happened? Did he hurt you?" Her voice drops into a growl, her green eyes hardening.

I don't know her well. She only started working here about a month ago, but she's sweet. Like me, she's curvy and petite. She's also a bad-ass. And right now, I'm happier to see her than I ever have been before. Because I know she won't say a word to anyone else about me renting a room with Cyrus or leaving it in tears. She's a vault.

"No," I whisper, shaking my head as more tears pour down my face. I feel like the walls are closing in on me. If I don't get out of here soon, I'm going to fall apart in front of everyone. "I just need to get out of here, Piper. Please."

She eyes me for a moment and then nods, not asking any questions. "I'll call you an Uber."

"Thank you." I'm not okay to drive. Not even remotely close to it.

"Here." She rushes back to the desk and grabs a handful of tissues before hurrying back to my side and thrusting them into my hands. "Take these and go wait in the back hall. I'll have your Uber pick you up at the housekeeping entrance."

"Thank you."

She puts her arm around me, leading me toward the stairwell that hides the housekeeping entrance and storerooms. It's the quickest way to get from one end of the hotel to another, and it's rarely used afterhours.

The elevator dings and I jump, praying it's not Cyrus. My prayer is only partially answered when the elevator ascends, the third floor lighting up on the row overhead to indicate its destination. My heart twists itself into a pretzel.

I don't know if Piper sees it on my face, but she quickly opens the stairwell door for me. "Go," she says. "I'll tell him you left already."

"Thank you," I whisper again.

She smiles at me and then squeezes my arm. "If he made you cry, he's an asshole," she says before pulling the door closed.

I quickly hurry toward the housekeeping entrance, desperate to put as much space between me and Cyrus as I can. I feel like such an idiot for not questioning why he suddenly wanted me. Had he just not said anything, I would have given him this one night and prayed it was enough to sustain me for the rest of my life. But no. That's not what he wanted.

He wanted me to move in with him, give up Nashville and my dreams.

For a moment, I thought about doing it. Right up until he said he didn't want asshole record execs judging and rejecting me. And then I realized why he was asking. Not because he loves me, but because he thinks he's saving me. Even now, he doesn't believe I can actually make it. He still doesn't believe in me. That shouldn't hurt as much as it does…and yet it does. Because he's the one person in the world, other than my grandma, I've wanted at my side. No one else's opinion has ever mattered to me as much as his.

I wipe more tears from my eyes as I hurry down the wide hallway toward the back entrance. Unlike the rest of the hotel, it's not in perfect order. There are runs in the old carpet and dings on the wall from laundry carts running into it. It smells slightly of wet clothes and paint.

When I pass by the laundry room, one of the industrial sized dryers is going. One of the overnight maids is inside, singing along to the radio. I hurry past, holding my breath like that'll stop her from seeing me. If she does, she doesn't call out to me or try to get my attention. I make it to the back door undetected.

I press myself up against the wall, my heart aching. Unlike when I got here tonight, I don't feel like a princess. I feel like Cinderella after the ball ended. I got to play pretend for a little while, but it couldn't last. My dress is wrinkled, and my hair is probably a disaster. My coach is a pumpkin. And my prince watched me flee into the night after breaking my heart.

My phone buzzes. I pull it out of the hidden pocket on my dress to read Piper's text. My Uber will be here in a few minutes. It'll take me home and I can pretend tonight never happened. That I don't know what it sounds like when he growls my name because he's turned on, or how gorgeous he is when he's in my mouth. I can pretend that leaving him behind isn't going to kill me, even though I'm pretty sure it is. Because, God help me, I still love him. Even now.

 

 

I don't immediately go home. Instead, I go to the cemetery to talk to my grandma. I stay until my Uber driver gets antsy about being in a cemetery so late at night, and then I let her drive me home. Talking to my grandma didn't make me feel any better. My heart still feels mangled in my chest and I can't stop crying.

I wish I could run home to my dad and curl up on his lap like I did when I was a little girl. But I don't think he'd understand even if I explained it to him. He knows how long I've been dreaming of finishing school and moving to Nashville. It would break his heart to know I thought about giving it all up for Cyrus. He's the only man that never asked my mom to give up anything or be anything other than the person she was. But she left him too. She couldn't accept who he was. She wanted to change him. Just like Cyrus wants to change me.

The tears fall faster when my Uber pulls up outside of my complex and I see Cyrus pacing in the parking lot. He looks as wrecked as I feel, and somehow more handsome than ever. Which isn't at all fair. I look like a hot mess with mascara streaked across my face. My nose is red, and my eyes are puffy and swollen.

"Should I call someone for you, honey?" the driver asks me when she catches sight of him pacing like a caged lion in front of the building.

"No," I mumble. "He's not dangerous. Just blind."

"Ah, well there ain't a man alive who doesn't suffer that same affliction on occasion," she says, looking at me over her shoulder. "But he's here now, and he looks like he's hurtin' too. So he can't be all that bad, can he?"

That's precisely the problem. There's nothing about him that's bad or wrong or anything less than incredible. Even when he's saying or doing all the wrong things, he's so damn good. He's loyal and generous and can be the kindest man I've ever met. He dotes on his family and loves his country. He always lets me and Jessa pick the movie and never complains when we end up crying at the sad parts. He remembers the anniversary of my grandma's death every year and makes a point to tell me he's sorry I lost her. He'd give the shirt off his back if someone needed it.

He is a genuinely good man. And that's why loving him has always been so easy. Even when he's growly and pissing me off. Even when he's stealing my lunch or complaining about my clothes. Even when he says all the wrong things. Even on the worst days, he's still perfect to me.

But I don't think he'd be here now if I weren't leaving for Nashville in three months. And I can't pretend that what he said didn't hurt like hell. So did what he didn't say. That he loves me. That he believes in me. That he can't live without me. Sure, he's attracted to me. He may even like me. But it's not enough. It'll never be enough for me.

"Thank you," I mumble to the driver and then climb from the car.

Cyrus spins to face me as soon as he hears the door open. His face is etched in worry, his blue eyes burning hot. As soon as I see his shoulders droop with relief, I start crying harder.

"I've been worried about you," he growls, stomping toward me. Even in his wrinkled suit, he looks too damn fine. Like a warrior ready to charge into battle.

"I'm fine. You can leave now." I shut the car door and slip past him, too emotionally exhausted to fight with him now. I never should have told him the truth about the audition. I should have kept it to myself and stayed in the ballroom to watch Cami perform. Then I wouldn't know what it's like to lose him again.

It's so much worse this time. He isn't in Iraq or fighting his way back this time. He's standing right in front of me, and he's never felt further away.

"Gwen, stop, please," he says, placing his hand on my arm before I can get away from him. As soon as he touches me, my body reacts like it always does. It tingles everywhere, like little fireflies dance across my skin.

I jerk my arm away from him, choking on a sob.

"Gwen, baby, please let me explain," he pleads, his voice ragged.

And even though I'm mad at him and heartbroken over him, my soul cries out in protest of his pain. I feel it even more acutely than I do my own. The tears fall faster down my face.

"It's too late, Cyrus. We have nothing else to say to each other."

"Don't say that, princess. It's not too late."

"Yes, it is." I brush past him, grasping blindly for the banister. "What happened between us tonight was a mistake. It's over, Cyrus."

My Uber pulls off. I guess she decided he's harmless.

"The hell it is," Cyrus growls.

"Just go home. Please."

"You want me to leave? Fine. Tell me you don't love me, Gwen. Tell me you haven't loved me for six fucking years, and I'll go."

"I…"

"You can't say it because you can't lie to me, angel," he says, his voice soft. "You love me. That's why you're crying so hard now. That's why you've been waiting for me for six years."

"It doesn't matter," I sob, pulling away from him again and starting up the steps. "Tonight never should have happened. I'm done waiting for you to believe in me as much as I've always believed in you. I'm going to Nashville."

"Don't run from me now, baby," he says. "Give me a chance to make this right."

"Don't tell me what to do!" I cry, frustrated that he's making this harder. I can't breathe and every word he says just makes it hurt more. Somehow, I manage to make it to the top of the stairs before he seems to realize it. I practically race to the front door as his heavy steps vibrate the balcony.

"Gwen, princess, stop," he growls.

I bite my lip so hard I taste blood, on the verge of a panic attack. If he touches me again, I'm going to cave. I'll listen to whatever he has to say, and I'll let him convince me to give him a chance. I'll fall deeper and convince myself that giving up my dream for him is a good idea. I'll give up everything for him…and turn into my mom. She gave me up for a man. Over and over and over again. She gave up her dreams too. And she's no closer to happiness now than she was when she was my age. I don't want to be her.

Somehow, I manage to get inside and get the door closed before Cyrus reaches it. I flip the lock and throw my full weight against it as he starts pounding on it.

"Go home, Cyrus!" I yell.

Ruby, Jessa's Chihuahua, growls and then starts barking. She thinks she's a guard dog, but really she's a big baby. I love her though. She's small and sassy and ten kinds of adorable. She pretends she's a savage, but she's really just a little drama queen.

"Gwen?" Jessa mumbles.

I glance over to find her and Jax curled up together on the couch. He's got his arms wrapped around her, holding her to him with his chin resting atop her head. They look so good together, exactly like they belong. My heart wells with happiness for her, and then crashes into my stomach as a wave of pain immediately follows it.

I'll never have that with Cyrus.

Jax sits up, pulling Jessa up with him. She still looks sleepy and disoriented, but not Jax. He's wide awake, holding onto her like he thinks Cyrus is going to burst through the door and drag him away from my best friend.

"What's wrong?" Jessa asks.

"Nothing," I lie, and then sniffle.

Jessa hears it. She jumps up and rushes across the room toward me, which only makes me cry harder. I never even told her that I'm in love with her brother. I've been hiding it from her for so damn long because I didn't want her to judge me for it.

"Gwen, what happened?" she asks, stopping in front of me. Her blue eyes run across my face. Even though she's not wearing her glasses and probably can't see very well, her worry grows as she looks me over. I know I look horrible.

"Your brother is an asshole," I say, and then my stupid bottom lip quivers. "I'm never talking to him again."

"What did–?"

"Open the door, Gwen!" Cyrus growls from the other side of it. Something thumps against it hard. I jump, afraid he's trying to kick it down. "Please, princess. Let me in."

"Can you please make him leave?" I plead with Jessa, on the verge of a full-blown break down.

"I'll get him out of here," Jax says from behind us. He and Jessa exchange a look, silently communicating with each other. I swear, they've been doing it since the day they met.

"Gwen, princess. Please," Cyrus pleads, his voice strained. He sounds wrecked, worse than he ever did when he came home from Iraq. I'm hurting him, and that kills me. I don't want to hurt him. All I want is to love him and be loved by him and sing like my grandma.

But he doesn't believe in me, and I am terrified we'll end in disaster. We'll become a black hole instead of a massive neutron star. And everyone around us will suffer. I'll lose Jessa and her mom, Cyrus and my dreams. I'll disappoint my grandma and end up sad and alone, desperate for affection just like my mom.

I sob wordlessly, prompting Jessa to put her arm around me.

"I'll call you in the morning, rabbit," Jax murmurs to her.

"Okay. Bye, Jax."

"Bye, baby."

Jessa shuffles me to the side so he can get out. Cyrus doesn't try to get in. I'm too cowardly to open my eyes and check to see if he's still out there. But then again, I don't have to check. I feel him out there, like his pain is mine. I guess it is since I caused it.

Somehow, I end up on the couch with Jessa beside me. I lean on her, crying harder than I have since my grandma died. Six years of grief pour out of me in heaving sobs.

"What happened, honey?" Jessa asks.

"I'm in l-love with your b-b-brother," I sob.

"I know." She doesn't laugh at me or tell me I'm delusional. Instead, she rubs my back, trying to comfort me. And this is why I love her. She never judges me. She never pushes me. She's always just there, waiting until I'm ready to talk.

"He a-asked me not to g-go to N-N-Nashville."

"Oh," she whispers. I can practically hear her cringe.

I pull back, taking a deep breath as I try to pull myself together. I've cried over him enough tonight. My head actually hurts from crying so much. I can cry again later.

Jessa grabs a couple tissues and hands them to me.

"He s-still doesn't think I'm good enough to m-make it," I admit, wiping my eyes. "He t-thinks I should j-just stay here and m-marry him and g-give up on my dreams."

"He doesn't think that, Gwen," she whispers, her disappointment in her brother obvious. She knows how important music is to me and why. "He's afraid of losing you."

I snort, not sure I believe that.

"I'm serious," Jessa says. "You're beautiful and talented and everyone loves you. He's afraid you'll make it big and forget about him."

"You s-support the people you l-love," I remind her. When her face falls, I give her a sad smile and remind her of the conversation we had earlier today about her and Jax. She said they just weren't compatible because she wants kids, and he doesn't. "I guess the two of us just aren't compatible either. Had he asked me a year ago, or a year before that, or the year before that, I would have given it up for him. I would have stayed here."

"Gwen," she whispers, surprised.

I guess she didn't know just how much I love her brother. I guess I hid it better than I thought I was because I don't think he knew either. Not until tonight. And now…well, now I know for sure he doesn't feel the same.

So why do I already miss him so damn bad?