Chapter 2

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Break-ups suck. They suck even more when your ex is famous and dating an equally renowned actress. At the grocery store where I worked, I was forced to stare at Billy's face as he stared back at me from the magazine rack, usually as he was clutching Ella's hand. On the slow days, when there weren't many customers to keep me busy, I contemplated quitting, but I had been working there for so long that leaving would undoubtedly mean a pay cut. So instead, I watched as the headlines unfolded like a soap opera.

Rock star and America's Sweetheart heat up the summer... Beauty and the Beast are growing closer... Meet the Parents: Ella Price Brings Billy Collins home to Connecticut... Billy Collins Spotted Ring Shopping... Is she Yoko? Is Billy leaving the Band?... Ella Price: Bump Watch... Cozy in Deluth: The Happy Couple Spotted in Billy Collins' Hometown.

"Is there something you want to tell me?" I answered one August evening as I bobbed and weaved among the throngs on the sidewalk leading to my apartment.

Billy had been calling more often, nearly three times a week. At first, the conversations were labored and pretty exhausting. But as the calls continued, we devolved back into ourselves. He'd relay tales of Tim's latest shenanigans, and I'd, in turn, share tales of my mundane life with a peppering of concerns about how tired Billy sounded.

"So many things," his voice bubbled with excitement. "I got a new guitar. I've been eyeing it for a while, and Tim finally persuaded me to get it. It's a late-50s Gretsch. The sounds are unnatural; guitars don't sound like this thing. The knobs are so clunky... I love it." He let out a gleeful laugh like a child on Christmas morning.

"Billy, I wasn't talking about a guitar."

I didn't bother to stifle my laugh at his enthusiasm and felt a breeze of air course over the receiver from his end. I knew his head had bowed, and dimples were on full display wherever he was.

"So, what were you talking about?" He prodded, honestly unaware of the stir he was causing on the magazine racks.

"I stare at you all day; you're all over the tabloid covers."

"Oh geez, you must be sick of me." There was a genuine apology in his tone.

"I'd love to say that I'm not, but I kinda am." I felt foolish for my disdain for the updates. "So, I hear you're engaged and expecting. And is the band busting up?"

There was a loaded pause that made my heart sink: some, if not all, of the rumors were true.

"Billy, I..." my voice creaked to a halt.

"Lil, I'm not engaged, nor is Ella pregnant." The excitement had drained from his voice, and exhaustion had resumed its constant presence. "I'd tell you if any of that was going on."

A warmth of relief soared through me. Deep inside a happiness I hadn't felt in a month bloomed.

"But," a single word crossing his lips caused immediate death to my delicate happiness. "About the band," he continued.

"Oh, Billy, I'm sorry." Secretly, I was excited it was the band rumor that was true.

"Don't be; it's time. We're just headed in different directions." There was an unease in his voice.

"When?"

"When this tour wraps. We'll announce it a few months later when the timing feels right."

"Are you okay, Billy?" My voice was low with concern as my mind focused on his uneven tone; it set me on edge and pushed all the relationship fears away.

"I miss you, Lil. I wish I could see you."

All the bravado that had begun saturating his voice from constant touring was gone. This was my Billy, the Billy that refused to share a bed with me when he visited, the Billy that clung desperately to normalcy, the quiet Billy.

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