Chapter 6: Backstage

The green room was a windowless box with two couches, a fruit tray, and a mirror ringed with bulbs.

The manager shut the door behind me and stayed outside.

Rafe stood at the far wall with his back to me, looking at his own reflection.

"Close the door," he said.

"It's closed."

"Right." He rubbed his face with both hands. "Sorry. Sit, please. Do you want water?"

"No."

"Eat something. You haven't had anything since breakfast."

I looked at him.

"I saw you pick at a muffin in the lobby," he said. "I notice things. It's most of what I do."

I sat on the edge of the couch and put my phone on my knee.

Rafe turned around.

Up close, in the bright mirror light, he looked ten years older than he had at the signing table.

"I want to see the message," he said. "The real one, not the version you read out."

I unlocked the phone and handed it over.

He read it standing up. Then he sat down on the couch across from me and read it again.

"She said yes in front of everyone," he said quietly. "Tell her to quit making faces at me. The trip Thursday is still on."

"Yes."

"Who is 'her' in the second line?"

"My best friend. Lydia."

His thumb stopped moving on the glass.

"What's her last name?"

"Weatherly."

He did not say anything for a long time.

Keep reading free with an account. Start He Texted the Wrong Chat, So I Moved In With Her Husband from Chapter 1, then sign up free to read the rest of this chapter.