Page 112 of Making the Save

“Yeah, I’ve always admired your songwriting. I’ll have my people reach out. Cool?”

“Uh, sure. Yeah. Definitely cool.”

He blended back into the crowd in front of us.

“Someone else sees your song writing brilliance,” I pointed out.

“He was being nice,” she deferred.

I was about to contradict her when I felt someone bump into me from the side. I didn’t take it as being intentional. We were packed in like famous sardines as people made their way into the arena. Guests, Syd explained, would be seated on the floor facing a large stage, while the public would fill up the rest of the arena.

We turned and I recognized the actor immediately. Syd went stiff as a board. I twined our fingers together and stroked the back of her hand with my thumb.

“Oh, sorry,” John Bernard said with a smile as fake as Tyler’s tan. “Sydney. How goes it?”

She nodded her head curtly. “John.”

“You remember Ellie?” John stepped aside to show off an emaciated blonde with fake eyelashes. I couldn’t tell if she was winking at me or if her bottom and top lashes kept getting stuck together.

“Hi, Ellie,” Sydney said tightly.

“Good luck tonight, Sydney,” the blonde said. “May the better artist win and all that.”

“Of course,” Sydney said.

“You must be the husband?” John asked, staring me down. Or should I say up, as I was at least a half a foot taller than him.

I looked down at the hand he offered. It was petty, and again, not worthy of Sydney, but I took his hand in my grip and held tight.

Like I said, someone had to get hurt tonight.

He tried to pull his hand away. I was pretty sure I was close to breaking his pinky finger. I tugged him in tighter and bent down so only he could hear me. “Mention my wife’s name in an interview again and we’ll have words. Understand?”

“Look, I’m not trying to start anything. Dude, seriously, you’re, like, hurting my hand.”

I squeezed tighter and he paled.

“Dude, seriously,” I mocked him.

“Wyatt?” Sydney was tugging on my sleeve. “We need to get to our seats. It’s going to start soon.”

I released John’s hand and he instantly cradled it with his other one against his chest. “Oh, my bad. I guess I don’t know my own strength sometimes.”

We left and made our way down to the floor of the arena. Our seats were only two rows from the stage.

As soon as Syd sat down next to me, I wrapped an arm over her shoulder, which wasn’t easy with her winglets.

“I told you, I don’t need you to fight off my old fake boyfriends,” she said through stiff lips. Everything about her was stiff.

“But it’s so much fun,” I said.

She turned to glare at me and I realized she was actually mad. Her shoulder’s shifted under my arm like she didn’t want me to touch her.

I moved my arm.

“The thing is, Wyatt, when this is over and you’re gone, I have to face the consequences of all of it. On my own.”

The words pierced my heart. The idea of her standing here alone, unprotected, in this world filled with assholes, gutted me.