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Chapter 150

At two o’clock on Thursday afternoon, Nick was in a meeting with his manager and the team of people hired to put together his tour. They had been in the small conference room for an hour, talking about plans for the tour.

It was unrealistic to expect that he would be able to sell out large stadiums with his solo act, Johnny Wright had informed him matter-of-factly, so he would be playing smaller venues, intimate theaters and clubs. Nick didn’t really mind that at all. Though it had been cool to perform in huge arenas with the Backstreet Boys at the peak of their popularity, Nick liked the more intimate settings, where he could see the fans, and they could see him.

“We’re aiming to book twenty to twenty-five dates, spread out over a month-and-a-half or so, so that you’ll have some time off in between cities,” explained Paul, the tour manager. “If the shows sell well, and you’re up for a second leg, we can talk about booking more dates then.”

Nick nodded. “Sounds fair enough. Hey, just make sure we hit Chicago, alright? I promised a friend I’d play Chicago.”

“Don’t worry; Chi-town’s on the list,” smiled Paul, tapping his notepad. “We’re gonna try to get the House of Blues.”

“I played there for Now or Never,” Nick recalled. “Cool place.”

“Yeah, it should be good. If they’re already booked, though, Chicago’s got a lot of other great venues we’ll look into.”

“Sounds good.”

“So we’re planning to start up right after the holidays, second or third of the year, and go through January and most of February. The extra days in between shows will give us some wiggle room for traveling if there’s bad weather. We’re gonna try to book an opening act or two; Johnny’s talked to Jive about some of the new talent they’ve signed, and they’ve got a couple in consideration. Solo artists, nothing cheesy. We’re trying to play down the boyband image and go with a more acoustic, organic feel – you know, all live instrumentation and vocalists who can actually sing.”

“Perfect,” Nick said, nodding his agreement as he pictured himself up on stage with a stool and his guitar, a small band behind him, just an accompanying guitar, bass, keyboard, and drums. That was all he needed.

“We were thinking you could play for about an hour, hour-and-a-half? Do the songs from this album, a couple of the singles from Now or Never, and a Backstreet medley, for the fans.”

Nick nodded again, smiling. “ ‘Course.”

“So, that’s what we were thinking. If you want to draft an actual set list now, we can do that. And I’ve got some recordings of possible opening acts, if you’re interested,” added Paul, brandishing a couple of CDs.

“Yeah, absolutely.”

They had worked out the set list and spent the last ten minutes listening to demos on the CDs Jive had sent. Halfway through a track by a guy who sounded like a James Blunt copycat, Nick’s phone rang, out loud.

“Shit,” he muttered, hurrying to silence it, but it had already distracted everyone from the music. Fumbling with the phone as he struggled to get it out of his pocket, Nick couldn’t believe he’d forgotten to put it on silent before the meeting. Then again, he wasn’t used to having to remember on his own; usually he had Kevin or Brian breathing down his neck to shut off the phone well ahead of time. He wasn’t sure why, because Howie’s phone went off in meetings way more often than his did, but he was the youngest and would always be treated like he was still thirteen sometimes. He was just used to it now. So used to it that without the brotherly nagging, he’d gone and forgot. “Sorry,” he apologized quickly as he stole a quick glance at the phone underneath the table, curious to see who was calling before he silenced it.

When he saw Claire’s name blinking at him from the window on his phone, his stomach performed a nervous flip-flop. The last time he had talked to Claire, she had been calling to tell him, tearfully, that she had decided to go through with the selective reduction. He knew she had been scheduled to have it yesterday, but he hadn’t wanted to call and bother her. “Just call me when you’re ready,” he’d told her, figuring she would need some time once it was over before she was ready to talk about it.

Now that she was calling, he couldn’t ignore her; he had to hear her voice and make sure she was okay. As “okay” as a woman who had just gone through what she had could possibly be, anyway.

“Guys, I gotta take this call; it’s important,” he said, and before anyone could protest, he got up and left the room, flipping open the phone as he went. “Hello?” he answered it in the privacy of the empty hall, letting the conference room door swing shut behind him.

“Hey, Nick, it’s me.” Her voice lacked its usual spark, but at least she wasn’t crying.

“Hey, Claire. Um, how’s it going?” he asked awkwardly, not sure what else to say.

“Eh, it’s going. Honestly, it’s been a rough day,” she confessed with a sigh.

“I can imagine. How are you… um, how are you feeling?” He had no idea what the procedure was even like, though the vision he had of it made him cringe.

“Physically? Fine. It didn’t hurt; I had some cramping last night, but that was about it. Emotionally? Awful. I feel so guilty… I don’t know if I did the right thing at all, Nick. Even if it was for a good reason, it seems so wrong. And Jamie’s being a complete dick about it again. He ran out of the room yesterday, right in the middle of it! I had a fucking needle going into my stomach; I couldn’t even move, and he left me!!”

“What?!” Nick gasped, his sympathy turning to shock and anger as he pictured her impaled on a huge needle, crying as she watched her husband run away. “Are you fucking kidding me?? How could he do that to you?!”

“Good question.” Her voice was shaking now. “He wouldn’t come back until it was all over. And since then, he’s barely even been able to look at me. He slept in the basement last night, and I haven’t talked to him since, except for a few words when he came in to get dressed for work this morning.”

“Oh my God, Claire…” Nick was appalled. He had always known Jamie to be an asshole, but this was a new low. He had expected even Jamie to treat his wife with compassion, but from what Claire was telling him, Jamie had no compassion, only coldness. “Have you talked to anyone about this?”

“My mom, this morning,” she answered thickly. “And now you.”

On the phone, he realized. He was pretty sure her mother was still in Florida; surely, she would have mentioned it if one of her parents had come to be with her. She had no one in Iowa, no one but her asshole husband, who was ignoring her when she needed him the most. Nick had never been married, never had children, and would never know what it was like to lose a baby that had been growing inside of him, but he knew how hard it had to be, and he knew that she and Jamie should be helping each other through this. She definitely should not have had to go through it alone.

That, he knew firsthand. It wasn’t the same situation, but he knew what it was like to lose a part of himself. And though he’d resented their interference at times, he had always been glad to have the guys and Claire around him in the aftermath. He would have driven himself crazy, fallen into a deep depression and perhaps never climbed back out, if he had had to go through that alone.

“Well, I’m glad you called,” he murmured, the wheels in his head turning. “You know you can always talk to me. I would never abandon you, Claire.”

“I know. Why do you think I called?”

He smiled sadly, and a part of him couldn’t help but think, Now do you see? I love you, more than Jamie does. I would never hurt you the way he has. You should have chosen me. But he knew it was the wrong time to tell her that. No matter how resentful of Jamie she was right now, he knew that her husband’s betrayal had to sting, and saying “I told you so” would only be rubbing salt in her wounds. She was hurting enough as it was; he couldn’t bear to cause her more pain. It hurt him enough already just to hear her sound so defeated, as if her spirit had faded away with the baby. Even the knowledge that she had finally seen Jamie’s true colors gave him little satisfaction, for it had come at a heavy price.

Where was his Claire, the one he’d always known, the girl who always wore bright colors and smiled just as vibrantly, who used her dark sense of humor to crack jokes even when the norms dictated that it was not a time for joking, who was not afraid to be silly in public or speak her mind when something got her riled up, who always seemed strong when he felt weak, and who only cried when things were really bad? He could hear no trace of her in the trembling, tearful voice on the other end of the line. She was trying to be strong; her voice was tremulous with resistance against her tears, but still he knew they were there. He could hear them.

She was broken, and her husband, the man who had vowed to love her and comfort her, was doing nothing to help her mend. In fact, Nick was pretty sure it was he who had caused her to shatter in the first place. Claire had been through a lot of things and come out with barely a scratch, but either this was one thing too much, the last straw that had caused her to crack, or Jamie had just thrown a rock through her soul, splintering it into shards. He was willing to bet it was the latter. On her own, Claire was strong, but she had leaned on Jamie, and he had let her fall.

As he talked to her, trying to soothe her as he listened to her break down again, Nick quickly made a decision. As soon as he’d gotten off the phone with her, he went back into the conference room and spoke directly to Johnny. “Listen, whatever I’m supposed to be doing tomorrow, cancel it. I’m gonna be out of town. It’s an emergency.”

Johnny looked startled. “What happened? Something with your family? It’s not… it’s not one of the other guys, is it?”

“No,” Nick shook his head quickly. “Just a friend who needs me right now. And I promise, she’s more important than whatever’s on my agenda tomorrow.”

Johnny didn’t look pleased, but he nodded, apparently realizing there was going to be no arguing with Nick on this one. “Okay. When will you be back?” he asked, in measured tones.

“Hopefully by Monday, but I’m not making any guarantees. I’ll be in touch though,” Nick assured him. “Listen, fellas, I’m sorry for the hassle, but can we just wrap this meeting up? I gotta jet; I need to book a flight to Des Moines.”

“Des Moines? Des Moines, Iowa? Who’s in Des Moines?” asked Paul, wrinkling his nose. Johnny looked equally confused.

Nick offered a grim smile. “My girl’s in Des Moines.”


When you try your best, but you don’t succeed
When you get what you want, but not what you need
When you feel so tired, but you can’t sleep
Stuck in reverse

And the tears come streaming down your face
When you lose something you can’t replace
When you love someone, but it goes to waste
Could it be worse?

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

High up above or down below
When you’re too in love to let it go
But if you never try, you’ll never know
Just what you’re worth

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

Tears stream down your face
When you lose something you cannot replace
Tears stream down your face
And I…

Tears stream down your face
I promise you I will learn from my mistakes
Tears stream down your face
And I…

Lights will guide you home
And ignite your bones
And I will try to fix you

- “Fix You” by Coldplay


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