Big Girls Do It Married Read Free

drugs or anything, 'cause that's stupid. But you know what I mean."
    He nodded, dipping a fry in cheese and then ranch. "I get what you're saying, and you're right to an extent. But I love you. I'm in love with you. I can't just ignore that."
    "Chase...I know where you're going with this." I reached across the table and took his hand in mine. "You can't give up this opportunity. You could be the next huge thing, you know? Like Daughtry or whoever. I was gonna say Nickelback, but everybody hates Nickelback, right? Whatever. The point is, you can't walk away from this. Not for me."
    "Then come with me. We're going on tour in a few weeks. A U.S. tour at first, then if everything goes well, a European one."
    "You want me to tag along with you on a world tour? And do what? Sit backstage every show? Wait for you on the tour bus?"
    "Sure, why not? It could be fun. You'd meet bands, go with me to signings and events and stuff."
    "No, Chase. I don't think so. I know you mean well, but that's not a life for me. I'm not meant to be an arm-candy, wait-backstage kind of girlfriend. I want more than that. I deserve more than that."
    "What are you going to do here, then?" Chase asked. "DJ karaoke for the rest of your life? Have Jeff's kids and be a soccer mom?"
    Anger boiled through me. "Fuck you, Chase." I stood up and threw money on the table, turned around, and stomped off.
    I’d made it out of the restaurant and to my car when I felt him grab my arm and turn me around. I jerked my arm free. "What if that's what I want? What if I like DJing karaoke? What if I want to marry Jeff and have his kids and be a soccer mom? You have something against soccer moms?"
    "No, Anna, that wasn't my point. If that's what you want, then fine, go for it. My point was, you're more talented than that. You've got a great voice. You've got stage presence, and you know how to put on a performance. If you came to New York with me, I could probably score you a meeting with a record exec. You might get a deal, be a singer for real."
    My heart stopped. "You could do that?"
    "Easy. My producer said you had a stunning voice. He said he'd consider signing you himself."
    I had a moment of dreaming: me, alone on a stage, performing; spotlights on me, my name on the marquee.  
    But then reality butted in.
    "Chase, that's not me," I said. "Yeah, sure, the idea of being a singer, recording and touring and all that, it sounds great on paper. But if I did that, when would we ever see each other? The music I'd make isn't like yours. We wouldn't tour together. We wouldn't record together. So we'd have different careers, and wouldn't really be together. So if I'm not with you, why would I leave? It just doesn't compute, in my mind. I guess what it comes down to, really, is that I don't have a desire to be famous. I just...I don't know what I do want for my future exactly, but a life of paparazzi and magazine articles and whatever, that's not me."
    Chase put his back to the car and pinched the bridge of his nose. "You're really dead set against letting this work, aren't you?" He sighed. "Fine. I guess I'll see you around."
    "God, Chase. It's not that I'm against it, it's just that I don't see it working out with us."
    "You're not even willing to try?"
    "I don't know."  
    Chase's eyes bored into me. I felt the brunt of his emotions hitting me, his hope and his love and his fear. He really did love me. "You're afraid, Anna. You're afraid I don't really love you, or that I can't be faithful while I'm on tour. But you do love me. Or at least, you could , if you'd let yourself."
      "You're right, Chase. Is that what you want to hear? Yeah, I left because I was falling in love, and it scared me. But it wasn't you, or the idea of being in love with you that had me panicking. Some of the things that happened in New York bothered me, and I'm not talking about seeing you with the girls. It was...I don't know how to put it. It wasn't me. It was fun, and I enjoyed it, but I don't think