Epilogue Eight Months Later
“How do I look? Is the bejeweled cowboy hat too much? What about the rhinestones on my guitar?”
“You look perfect, baby,” Danny said, leaning down to kiss my forehead.
His eyes practically glimmered watching me bounce around backstage. I couldn’t help it. I could barely contain my anticipation. I was a bubble about to burst with excitement.
“Drink this,” he said, shoving my pink water bottle in my face.
I took a swig before setting it down on the coffee table. The dressing room was a nondescript square with a black leather couch and a small vanity area. It was a lot smaller than some of the rooms I’d gotten ready in on my last tour, but it had everything I needed and more.
I was playing at The Iron Hall in Nashville tonight for my new album’s release party.
It was just a small acoustic set—stripped down, just like my album.
It was an iconic venue, one I’d once only dreamed about.
Like the dressing room, the venue itself was smaller than any of the spaces I’d played on my last tour, only fitting about two thousand fans, but it was by far the one that I was most excited about.
A woman with spiky red hair wearing an oversized t-shirt with my name and tour dates on the back, stuck her head in the open door. Shelby, my new manager—who was lovely, and most importantly, not my mother—smiled when she saw me and Danny.
“Trace, you have a few people who wanted to say hi before the show,” she said.
“Send them in!”
Jaylon and Barrett were first. I’d grown even closer to these two after Danny and I officially started dating, as the three of them were basically inseparable.
“Y’all came!” I squealed excitedly, giving them each a hug.
“Are you kidding?” Barrett said. “I wouldn’t miss it.”
Jaylon hitched a thumb behind his back. “Did you know all those people are here for you? Damn, that’s cool. It’s packed out there.”
Funny, it felt a million times better playing a packed smaller venue brimming with fans who connected with me and my music, than it had playing to a crowd three times the size in a half-empty arena.
Trailing behind them was a woman in her fifties who looked ten years younger, a loose braid hung over her shoulder.
“I’m so glad you’re here!” I exclaimed, giving Danny’s mom a hug. I wasn’t sure she’d make it. She hated travelling, but I’d been begging her to come for weeks. Danny had booked her on the same flight as his friends, which had helped to finally convince her.
“Thank you so much for inviting me,” she whispered into my ear as she gave me a tight squeeze. “You should be so proud of yourself.”
“Damn right,” Danny said, moving in next to me to give his mom a hug as I basked in the parental praise.
“I’m so happy you could make it,” I said.
Danny’s mom was reserved and mostly kept to herself, but we’d grown closer. I appreciated her quiet, calm energy. The sadness Danny always hated was still present, but I think he missed something that I saw with clarity—her love for him. That’s what kept her going.
I’d invited my mom to this show too, but she hadn’t bothered to make it. She’d replied with only a quick, so sorry, text including a frowny face.
We’d only spoken a handful of times since the blowout in my hotel room.
I think she thought I’d call to apologize.
I never did. She eventually called me when an article came out about my new label, pretending like nothing had happened between us.
Like everything was fine. It had been hard keeping my boundaries with her, but I’d never felt healthier than I did now, with Mom at a safe, long-arm’s-length distance away from me.
She was actually living in Florida nowadays. Apparently, she’d met a guy during her hotel stay while my show was filming. Go figure?
Speaking of the show, for all the stress it had caused me, it ended up being quite low-key.
It had a moderate viewership, and the editing kept it pretty safe, focusing on the love story between Danny and me.
They’d managed to edit it in such a way that him kissing me and walking away on the beach looked like a fairytale ending.
If you squinted in the last frame, you could just make out the side of Brady’s head, floating in the water.
“We’d better find our seats,” Jaylon said, slipping a comforting arm around Danny’s mom’s shoulder.
“Break a leg,” Barrett added.
“Hey!” Danny barked.
Barrett laughed. “What? Too soon?”
Danny had taken me bouldering a few months back. I’d been terrible at it. It was an accident waiting to happen. I’d fallen on the mat with my leg bent all weird underneath me, and for a few minutes we’d been sure I’d broken it. Ever since, Danny had cringed at the saying.
I laughed and shook my head. “I’ll see y’all after the show.”
As they left the room, another head poked inside.
“Got a minute to say hi to a fan?” he asked.
“Grant!” I exclaimed, racing to the door and throwing my arms around his neck.
I’d invited quite a few friends to the show, but Calla and Eli were on an extended honeymoon, and Rachel and Arnie couldn’t make it because of her show schedule.
“Hey, man,” Danny said, shaking his hand.
“I thought you couldn’t come,” I said.
“Eh, well, last minute change of plans.” He pointed behind him. “Also, this girl was slinking around in the hallway, claiming to know you.”
Emma pushed past him into the room. Her hair had grown longer since I’d last seen her a few months ago, and it now swept her bare shoulders.
“Are you seriously going to pretend like you don’t remember me?” Her dark eyes narrowed at Grant. “We filmed an entire show together.”
He winked at her. “I’d never forget a beautiful face.”
She sighed and shook her head. “You’re infuriating,” she muttered, before turning to me. “And you’re stunning! Congratulations, Trace.”
“Thank you.” I hugged her back, my heart feeling completely full.
At least I’d managed to salvage a few real friendships from that stupid show. I guess I could give it some credit for bringing Danny and me back together, but considering they’d nearly torn us apart again, I wasn’t exactly eager to thank them for it.
Shelby rushed by, stopping at the open door. “Hey, you’re on in ten.”
“Got it!” I called, giving her a thumbs up.
“Can I escort you to your seat?” Grant slipped an arm around Emma’s waist and she side-stepped him.
“I’m good,” she said, backing toward the door. Grant followed her like a lost puppy dog.
“Break a leg out there, Trace,” Emma called as they left the room.
Danny cringed. “Why does everyone keep saying that?”
I laughed, wrapping my arms around him.
“So, are you leaving for Colorado with Jaylon and Barrett after the show?” I asked, doing my best to breathe him in.
“I pushed my flight until the day after tomorrow.”
“What? Danny!” I swatted his chest. “Why?”
He smiled sheepishly down at me. “Because that’s when you can come with me.”
“Danny,” I tried to scold him, but I couldn’t keep the goofy grin off my face. “You need to get to the cabin. Jaylon and Barrett are going to kill you.”
He shrugged. “They’ll live.”
“You can’t make them edit the whole thing alone!”
After the success of their ski documentary, In His Tracks, they’d filmed a climbing documentary over the late summer and fall and were now in the midst of edits.
I’d even gone to watch them climb on some days, pacing on the sidelines with a nervous knot in my stomach.
When Danny took a small rock to the head, he let me make a huge fuss, and I drove him to the ER to get stitches.
And somehow, even though I should’ve been terrified, I was almost happy sitting next to him in that hospital.
He let me worry about him now. Without boundaries. We were a team.
“I want to be here with you,” he said.
I didn’t fight him on it. I never did. Maybe it was all that time we’d wasted being apart, or maybe it was Danny proving to me he knew how to stay, but he made an effort to be with me as much as physically possible.
Even with him filming and me recording a new album, he made sure to align our schedules.
The crowd erupted into cheers, the sound reverberating all the way back to the small room where we stood. They must have announced me. It was almost time to do my pre-show ritual of shaking out my nerves.
Danny squeezed me. “I think that’s your cue,” he said. “Good luck out there.”
“Break a leg,” I corrected him.
He groaned and kissed me. “I told you, I hate saying that.”
“See you after,” I said, giving him one last hug before I had to go join my band.
He gulped. “Right, see you after.”
Was it my imagination or was he more nervous than I was?