JEALOUSY

Jealousy burns hot and bitter, fueled by Derrick’s manipulations and the undeniable chemistry I saw on stage. My rational side insists it’s just PR orchestrated for the cameras. But the emotional side—the side scarred by Derrick’s meddling—won’t let it go.

Rain finally arrives the next day. His face lights up when he sees us. He pulls Rainidy and me into a warm hug, his arms steady and reassuring.

“It’s good to be home,” he murmurs, pulling me into a slow, lingering kiss. “The special was great, but nothing compares to being here with you.”

I want to melt into his touch, to let his words wash away my doubts, but I can’t stop myself. “Why didn’t you tell me Pixie would be there?”

His brow furrows, genuine confusion in his eyes. “I didn’t know she would be. The host planned it as a surprise. I wasn’t even given a heads-up.”

“I know,” I say, my voice quiet. “But you also had dinner with her. There were photos… you looked… very comfortable with her.”

“Pixie is a friend.” Rain’s sigh is heavy, a blend of frustration, impatience, and weariness. “Katy, it was a press setup. Nothing more. Pixie happened to be there. I didn’t plan any of it.”

“It was a love song, Rain. You–”

Rain interrupts, “Katy, these things happen. I already told you it was over between Pixie and me, but she’s a celebrity, and we’re bound to run into each other.”

His words are steady, but a flicker of impatience lingers in his gaze. He kisses me softly, a gesture meant to reassure me, but the doubts still claw at the edges of my mind.

“Rain, I trust you,” I say finally, though my voice wavers. “But Derrick… the headlines… seeing you with her—it’s not easy.”

His expression hardens, his arms tightening around me. “I know. And I’m sorry. I’ll handle Derrick. But Katy, you need to believe me when I say fame means nothing if I don’t have you.”

I press my forehead to his, clinging to the sincerity in his words. The jealousy lingers, but for now, I let his promises soothe me. But deep down, a small voice reminds me that Rain’s world will always be filled with flashing cameras, beautiful women, and others who want a piece of him–like Derrick. And I don’t know if I’m confident or strong enough to overcome the obstacles Derrick will continue throwing at me.

Rain

In the days that follow, we fall back into a familiar rhythm, but an unspoken tension lingers in the air. Katy’s answers are clipped and distant, missing the warmth they once carried. She doesn’t pull away when I reach for her, but there’s a quiet detachment in her responses. Even when we make love, her eyes close as if shielding something from me. The passion is still there, but I miss the deeper connection we once shared.

I’m at a loss, desperate to close the growing gap between us, yet clueless about what’s really causing it. Meanwhile, Rainidy remains blissfully unaware of the underlying tension. She seems carefree and happy while enjoying our time together at the beach house.

I’ve tried talking to Katy about what’s wrong, but she’s evasive. Her quick denials only deepen the mystery. And every now and then, I catch her studying me closely when I glance at my phone. A wave of anxiety washes over me whenever my phone buzzes with a text or call from Derrick, my face tightening with tension. I’m torn between wanting to believe we can have it all and the growing fear that we’re drifting apart.

One evening, as we sit on the deck, Rainidy having already gone to bed. Katy gives me a slight smile, but it doesn’t reach her eyes. Determined to break through the invisible wall between us, I decide to confront her. “Katy, you need to tell me what’s bothering you.”

When she automatically shakes her head, I let out a deep sigh. “I can’t fix this if you won’t let me in,” I say, my frustration bleeding into my tone.

She looks at me with a mixture of surprise and discomfort. “I don’t know if I can put it into words.”

“Try,” I say firmly, encouragingly squeezing her hand.

“Music is who you are, Rain. It’s who you’ve always been.” She’s careful as she searches for the right words to express her feelings. “I don’t want you to have to give up anything that comes with what you love, with what you are–a rock superstar, just because I’m afraid of what comes with it.”

She hesitates. “I know you’ll always be surrounded by beautiful women. It’s not just that–it’s people. Some individuals will doanything to get what they want. I just… I don’t want us to get hurt. Being in the spotlight can be harsh. “ Shrugging, she states, “It’s my problem, Rain. I just need to toughen up—grow a thicker skin.”

“It may be your problem, but you need to let me in. Talk it out. Only then can we figure it out–together.” I take her hand, my thumb brushing lightly over her knuckles. “I don’t want anything or anyone coming between us.”

She wants to believe me. I can see it in her eyes, but the shadows and uncertainty linger. Fame is a powerful force, and I’ve seen firsthand how easily it can pull people apart. But there’s always been a hidden strength in her. While for some, this life might be too abrasive, I know that if anyone can weather the storms, it’s Katy.

Later that night, as we make love, her eyes stay locked on mine, her lips forming my name. But even then, something lingers between us, a barrier I can’t breach—and it’s driving me crazy.

The next day, when Derrick calls, I walk out onto the deck, wanting our conversation to be private.

The moment I say hello, Derrick launches into a spiel about publicity, the awards show, and his plans for a post-awards media blitz. I cut him off mid-sentence. “Derrick, I’ve been working on a new song.”

“Great! That’s fantastic, Rain. I’ll be sure to mention that when I book the talk show circuit–”

I interrupt him with a curt, “No, I don’t want to talk about it publicly yet.” Looking out over the ocean waves, I lean against the deck railing. “I’ve been toying with another way to introduce it.”

“Why? We’ve always created a buzz first. Why do you want to change a winning process?” He demands sharply, not trying to hide his irritation.

“Because this song is different. It’s personal. Katy and Rainidy have both contributed to it–”

Derrick cuts me off. “You’ve got to be kidding. No way, are you serious!” His tone biting, “You’d let a twelve-year-old and the woman you’re banging influence your music? You’re livelihood? What the hell is wrong with you, Rain?”

Grimly, I say nothing. That doesn’t stop Derrick. “Why don’t you try getting your head out of your ass–or better yet, stop thinking with your dick and leave the important decisions to me. That is what you hired me for.”

Derrick continues his tirade, his words growing more and more insulting. Finally, I purposely disconnect the call, shoving the phone into my pocket. It doesn’t take long for it to buzz again, but I ignore it. Derrick seems to have forgotten that he works for me. He’s never talked like that to me before.

Katy is in the kitchen, and Rainidy is strumming her guitar nearby. “Katy, let’s go for a walk.”

Wiping her hands on a towel, she smiles and agrees. She looks down at her shorts and halter top, then cocks an eyebrow at me. Grinning, I scoop up a cap and slip on my shades, reaching out my hand to take hers. “We won’t be gone long,” I say to Rainidy, who just nods and shoos us out the door, already returning her attention back to her music.

The sand shifts beneath my feet as Katy and I stroll along the shoreline, the waves brushing against the beach. The sound of the surf is the perfect background. Katy’s hand brushes mine, and I take it, intertwining our fingers.

I glance over at her. The breeze teases loose strands of her hair, and her gaze is distant and thoughtful. There’s a serenity about her here, as though the ocean has the power to quiet the doubts and fears I know linger. It feels like the right moment to talk—really talk—about what comes next.

“Katy,” I begin, my voice low, nearly lost in the sound of the waves. She turns her head, meeting my eyes, and the way the fading light catches her face makes my chest tighten. “I’ve been thinking a lot about what I want the future to look like.”

Her brows knit together slightly, but she doesn’t interrupt. I push my hands into my pockets, trying to steady the jumble of emotions swirling inside me.

“I don’t want this—what we have right now—to be temporary,” I say. “I’ve lived for the music and the crowds for so long, but lately… I feel like there’s more out there for me.”

She doesn’t say anything, but her lips part slightly, her breath catching in a way that tells me she’s listening.

“I’ve been thinking about scaling back,” I admit, the words feeling both freeing and terrifying. “Not giving up music entirely, but maybe not living out of suitcases, jumping from city to city without a moment to breathe. I want a life that’s more grounded, more… balanced.”

Katy stops walking, turning to face me fully. Her expression unreadable, her eyes locked on mine.

“Balanced,” she echoes softly. “What does that look like for you, Rain?”

I take a deep breath, the salty air filling my lungs as I try to piece together the vision I’ve been forming in my mind. “It looks like this,” I say, gesturing to the ocean, the sand, the space around us. “It looks like having you and Rainidy with me, not just waiting for me to come back but being a part of my life—every part of it. When I do travel, I want you by my side. And Rainidy, when it’s possible.”

Her eyes search mine, a flicker of hope lighting up her face. “But what about Rainidy’s school? Her life here?”

“We could hire a tutor when we’re on the road,” I suggest gently. “Make sure she keeps up with her studies, even if she’s not in a traditional classroom. And it wouldn’t be constant travel—just enough to keep the music alive, but not at the expense of the people who mean the most to me.”

Katy’s lips press together, her gaze dropping to the sand. I try to read her expression. She takes in a deep breath, finally looking up at me, and there’s a quiet strength in her eyes.

“You’ve really thought this through,” she murmurs, her voice soft but weighted with emotion.

“I have,” I say. “Because I don’t want to choose between my career and my family. I want both. I want it all, Katy. And I know it won’t be easy, but we can make it work.”

She exhales slowly, her shoulders relaxing as she processes my words. “It’s… a lot to think about,” she admits. “But I’ll tell you this much—I walked away once, thinking it was the right thing to do. I’m not making that mistake again–ever.”

The conviction in her voice makes my chest ache in the best way. She steps closer, so close that I can feel the warmth of her body. And though there’s still space between us, it feels like the distance is closing—not just physically but emotionally.

“Katy, when you left, I poured all my emotions into my music. My grief is what made me a better artist. In a way, you helped make me the singer and songwriter I am today.”