Behind the Curtain (Sequel to "Letting Him Go")

Chapter 1: The Storm

"She's fine," I spit. Frustration prickles across my skin. This is the third time today, and I don't even care that I have to lie anymore. 

I turn around and wince at the sight of her broken little body curled up on the couch in the room behind me, her hollow green eyes staring blankly at the floor and her hands folded tightly against her chest. She looks so small. Ashley sits beside her, carefully running a comb through her damp golden hair.

I sigh, forcing air out of my lungs— trying to alleviate the ache in my chest. When she hurts, we all hurt. She's hardly the woman she was last night— the jaw-dropping goddess who stole millions of hearts in a long black dress now barely recognizable as the motionless figure sitting silently in front of the afternoon news, drowning in a sea of blankets and tears.

I grit my teeth. I want nothing more than to scream at him right now over the phone. He is bad for her in every way imaginable—he was never part of the plan. In fact, he came into her life and tore straight through every pre-existing plan, every carefully crafted idea, and every single wall that I had built to protect her. To me, as her manager, he was an absolute nightmare. 

But as her friend, I fight every urge to pass her the phone. I fight every single bone in my body to keep myself from caving in. As her friend, I thank God for him every day. He is her angel, my angel— the only person who does my job better than I do. He is the shy voice that politely asked my permission to meet her three years ago, the loving blue eyes that have never left her since, and the strong arms that lift her from the darkness when no one else can. He took all my plans and threw them in the air, turning them to little drops of heaven that rained from the sky and into her hands. He brought her back to life, and for that I will forever owe him. He is everything to her, which makes him everything to me.

Last night he had held her close, his arm firm and protective around her waist as he leaned down to put his ear near her lips—shielding her secrets from the world. Her head fit perfectly in the space between his shoulder and his cheek, and she whispered softly against his neck— a hand resting on his heart. I stood outside in the rain, watching them through the window and holding her coat in my arms. The car was waiting to leave, but I knew I would never forgive myself if I pulled her away. 

He raised his head to look at her, and I swear I saw his heart break in his eyes. She was crying. The tears trickled down her cheeks and she let them—her palm was stuck on his chest as if memorizing the familiar hum of his heartbeat against her fingers. He slowly lifted his arms to cup her face with his gentle hands— leaning in to carefully kiss her tears away. I had to turn around. He didn't know yet, but this was goodbye. After Jimmy Kimmel, I was to put her on a plane to a place where no one would find her, and she had one simple, but incredibly difficult request.

"Don't tell Bradley." 

And I will never quite understand why. Sure, things were complicated, but we had dealt with complicated before. It was beyond me how just like that, she could let go of the love of her life.

You see, behind the curtain, I saw everything. The way she threw her head back and laughed—really laughed when he was around, the way her cheeks flushed a deep pink whenever he smiled at her, and the way she slept in his arms on the couch in her trailer— her head peacefully resting on his chest, rising and falling with his every breath. Their souls were profoundly connected— perfectly in sync, and I had never seen anything like it before. I hated it — it was unpredictable and it was terrifying. Not only was her career on the line— so was her heart. But I let him have it— I let him have her heart. She belonged to him anyways, so who was I to challenge fate?

And so I held her hand the whole ride home as she leaned her forehead against the car window and looked out into the night sky— an unspeakable pain radiating between us. I turned my head away from her so that she wouldn't see me cry— aimlessly moving my thumb in circles across her wrist. My job was to hold her together, and I could already feel her slipping through my fingers. I was powerless.

I helped her out of the car as we arrived at her house, handing her off to Ashley and Sarah, who gently took her hands and guided her upstairs. I stepped into the living room to wait for her, collapsing onto the couch in exhaustion. I heard paws clicking against the tile, and Miss Asia appeared at my feet, leaping up onto the cushions beside me.

"Hey sweet girl," I whispered, rubbing the spot between her ears. She yawned and closed her eyes contently, sleepily resting her chin in my lap. We sat in silence together, listening to the soft jazz that played quietly through the living room speakers. After a while, I heard voices fill the hallway.

"You sure you'll be okay?" Sarah asked her.

"Yeah," she sighed, and the sadness escaped through her breath and into the air. "La Vie en Rose" began to play next. I quickly shut it off.

The front door closed, and her bare feet padded down the the hallway towards me.

"Hey," she whispered, leaning against the door frame. Her hair was loose and her eyes were lined with the remains of her makeup as she stood in her black oversized AC/DC t-shirt. I crossed the room to embrace her, pulling her to my side and rubbing her shoulders.

"Let's get you some sleep," I murmured against the top of her head. I led her back up the stairs and into her room, watching as she climbed into her bed— Miss Asia close behind, settling at her feet. I moved to turn the lights off, hesitating as the empty space on the bed and in her house swallowed her little figure. I changed my mind— walking into her closet to grab the extra mattress, rolling it out onto the floor next to her. She looked at me in alarm.

"May I?" I reached for a pillow on her bed. She nodded.

I lowered myself to the ground, still dressed in my suit and tie— too tired to care about my discomfort as my eyelids grew heavy immediately at the feeling of the soft mattress beneath me. I just knew I couldn't let her sleep alone tonight.

"Thank you, Bobby." I barely caught her words as I drifted off into a deep sleep, my heart heavy with the weight of her pain that I couldn't fix.

"Bobby?" His voice crackles through the phone, cutting through my thoughts.

"You have to stop calling, Brad." My voice comes out colder than intended.

Silence.

"She'll call you, okay?" I sigh in defeat. "Just...she'll call you," I say quietly. I don't know what else to tell him.

"Okay."

"Hey," I say before I can stop myself.

"Yeah?" He breathes.

"You know I love you, man." My voice cracks, giving me away, and I hang up quickly.

I exhale sharply, clutching the end of the coffee table to collect myself. I've spoken to him three times today, and each time leaves me more deflated than the last.

She needs me.

I slip the phone into my pocket and straighten my jacket, hastily brushing my tears away with my sleeve. And with a deep breath, I stride confidently back into the room where she sits, willing myself to be what she needs me to be— the manager, the guardian of her broken heart, the brave man in the storm.

****HI! Welcome to the sequel :) Thank you so much for continuing to read, I really hope you enjoy!!! LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK!!!