Page 111 of Making the Save
Someone was going to get hurt tonight. If this was a hockey game, my gloves would have been dropped a long time ago and people would be learning some lessons about running their mouths.
If only Syd wasn’t so damn classy about the whole thing. Any comment, any question that seemed to paint her in a negative light, she just pushed it away like it was harmless. Always smiling. Always with her chin held high.
We were inside the lobby of the Staples Center now. The place crowded with musicians and all the overflow that came with them. Managers, producers, agents, record label execs.
In the crowd, I pulled Syd in tight against me so we wouldn’t get separated and I whispered into her ear.
“I’m proud of you.”
Her head whipped up to look at me, the question obvious on her face.
“You could have gone low,” I said. “I don’t know that I would have had as much class.”
She patted my arm like it was nothing and turned to face the crowd.
I hated being stuffed in this too tight suit. I hated the cameras and the impertinent questions. I hated the fake drama.
I hated all of it.
Except I didn’t hate Syd.
At all.
Tricia’s question wasn’t lost on me. How was I fitting into my wife’s life?
Not very well. I’d basically been a pain in the ass this whole week, whining about everything from my suit, to the traffic, to the cameras and reporters, and none of this was about me.
Meanwhile, Syd had put up with all the same shit. Only, she’d smiled and laughed the whole way through. And when the punches came, instead of swinging back, she was the epitome of class and elegance.
“I don’t deserve you,” I said low into her ear.
Again with the head whip, only this time her expression was inscrutable. What was going through that head of hers?
“Why…why would you say that?”
“It’s true. You’re a better person than me. Maybe tougher too.”
She smiled. “I don’t think that’s true.”
“Sydney! Hey, how’s it going?”
We both turned to see Syd’s original fake boyfriend, the boyband singer, Axil.
She lit up at the sight of him, and I could see, despite whatever had gone down between them, they were genuinely friendly. There were hugs between them and then Axil stepped back as if aware of the cameras and how any lingering closeness would be misconstrued all over the place.
“Heard you got married,” he said, turning to face me. “Wyatt Locke, I’m stoked to meet you. I am a huge Peaks fan.”
“Really?” He stretched out his hand and I shook it.
“Yep. My dad and brothers too. I was so bummed you didn’t win the cup.”
“That makes two of us,” I said, weirdly happy to be talking hockey.
“How are you?” Syd asked him. “Still working on your solo album?”
Axil nodded. “I’ve got some songs, but nothing is jumping out yet. Actually, I’m glad I saw you here tonight. I’d love to get your opinion on some of them. Maybe you could punch them up.”
“Really?” She seemed surprised by the suggestion.