Beside You

5 - chance of forgiveness

I couldn't sleep that night. I laid awake, staring at the ceiling above my bed as tonight whirled around in my mind.

He left to protect me. He broke my heart, made me feel abandoned. But he did it because he'd rather cause me a pain which I'd get over, than make me live the rest of my life tortured. I spent eight years angry at him. I never got the explanation I needed.

It was ten am. It was Monday. And every Monday she would go out with Grace and Ellie. 'Girls day' they called it. When really, it was a day for me to get on top of things. Clean a house which gets turned upside down by my toddler. Grocery shop for the week.

I threw on a pair of ripped denim jeans, and a cropped blue sweatshirt. Pairing with white sneakers and letting my dark curls cascade down my back, I headed out and got the groceries I needed. I was now unpacking them into the sparkling clean kitchen.

As I finished loading things into the pantry, I heard my phone buzzing. I didn't recognise the number, but I picked up anyway. "Hello?"

"Hello, is this Giovanna Romano?" An older man spoke. He was American, but definitely didn't have the southern accent everyone around me carried. "It is.." I reply reluctantly.

"Sorry to call like this. I am Andrew Foster. Your name and number was given to me years ago in case of an emergency. And this constitutes as an emergency."

"I'm sorry, Andrew, but I'm very confused right now."

He chuckled lowly on the other end of the phone. "I'm sorry. Trent gave me your contacts when we first signed him. I'm his manager."

I furrowed my brows as confusion washed over me. I sat down on one of the stools around the counter. "What can I help you with, Andrew?" I asked.

"He's not answering his phone. Has been radio silent for two weeks now. He has commitments, songs to record, shows to plan. But he said he needed a break and just took off. Is he there?" Andrew asked me seriously and I didn't know how to respond.

He clearly is hiding from something, or he wouldn't be ignoring his manager's calls. "I'm just..I'm worried about the kid. I just need to know he's safely tucked away in his small town living.." Andrew sighed.

"Yeah..he..he's here." I reluctantly replied and I heard the relief on the other end of the phone. "Thank god! Can you just..can you check up on him for me..please? Try and figure out what's going on with him?"

"Okay.." I told Andrew and he thanked me before hanging up.

I sighed, sliding my shoes back on as I grabbed my car keys. "What have you gotten yourself into, Trent Donovan?" I whisper as I pull out my driveway, driving to the only place that I can think he would be hiding out. He had no parents here who's house he could crash at. They abandoned him when he was really young. So he grew up with the four of us.

But there was one spot he'd always run to if he was conflicted.

I pulled up outside of the grand house at the edge of town and knocked on the door. The older woman's eyes scanned me, instantly knowing what I was doing there. "Hi Mrs Rhodes.." I sighed out. Her and her husband owned the country club. Treated us all as their own kids considering she could never have any.

"Is he here?" I asked her and she gestured into the house. "I'm sure you know the way.." she chuckled as I entered their house. "Giovanna.." she called out after me as I start walking away from her.

"Yeah?"

"He's lost. I can see that." She said sadly as I nodded. "Yeah..I know.." is all I replied as I slid the large glass door open, walking down their huge garden.

Hidden behind a coven of trees is a small guest house. It had string lights draped from its walls through all the trees. It truly was beautiful. They'd always let Trent crash here when he needed to.

I knocked on the front door before sliding straight in. I heard his distant guitar strums before his grunt in frustration coming from the back room.

So, without thinking twice, I walk to him. Not knowing I was leaning on the doorframe behind him, he crumpled up another piece of paper, throwing it into a very large pile of them scattered across the floor.

"There's our fugitive." I joke sadly, making his head snap towards me in shock. "Gio? What are you doing here?" He asked confused as I walked over to him, grabbing his guitar as I sit beside him. I let my fingers gently strum across the strings, not looking at him.

"Andrew called me.."

Trent cussed under his breath, leaning back into the sofa in frustration. "What's going on with you? What are you running from?" I asked sadly, playing the song he sang at the ball the other night quietly on the guitar, which visibly helped relax him a bit.

"I'm lost, Giovanna.." he mutters, clearly angry at himself. "I've got shows to perform at. I need to write another album. But I don't know what to write about. I've never had a problem when it comes to writing. It comes naturally to me. But there's something that's stopping me. And I needed to try and figure it out. So I left California. And I came here. If there's one place which could give me the answers I need, it's Hayfields."

I sigh at his confession. "He's worried about you. At least text him..or call him. He just wanted to make sure you were here, safe. And not somewhere probably on a bender."

"Fine. I'll call him later." Trent accepts, laying his head back. "You're too in your head.." I tell him after a moment of silence.

"I'm not." He says defensively but I chuckle. "Trust me. You know I'm right. Always am about these things."

He rolled his eyes playfully, watching as I play a soft melody on his guitar. "You remembered how to play, I see?" He asked which made me smile. "I never stopped. I even play to Aria sometimes. She asks to play too, but she's not too great right now. Maybe one day?" I say which makes us both laugh.

"You've gotten pretty good." He observes and I smile. "I had a good teacher."

Trent smiles down at me as I place his guitar on the ground. "Come on." I tell him as I stand up. "What do you mean?"

I start walking out the room, towards the front door. "You're coming over for dinner and I'm going to make sure you get out your head for the night. Trust me, a three year old is a good distraction. Maybe then you can figure out what's going on in that fat head of yours!" I call back, jokingly which makes him laugh loudly as he follows me out. "My head isn't fat!"

"Oh yeah it is!"

Is Trent's music career in danger?
Will he give up? Or will Giovanna find a way to reignite inspiration into his life?
Leave comments and feedback! Let me know what your predictions are!