Chapter 12
FAYE
EMOTIONAL CRISIS MANAGEMENT PLAN
Priority Level: CATASTROPHIC
Status: COMPLETE MELTDOWN
CURRENT SITUATION:
In possession of Sam's song notebook
Emotions: Unregulated
IMMEDIATE CONCERNS:
1. Unable to create spreadsheet for feelings
2. Sam's lyrics keep making me cry
3. Running out of sticky notes
Note: STOP CRYING ON THE NOTEBOOK
EMERGENCY ACTIONS REQUIRED:
A) Make PowerPoint presentation [Pros and Cons]
B) Create comprehensive data analysis
C) Color-code everything
D) STOP READING SAMS JOURNAL (FAILING)
Current Status: T-minus 8 hours to show time
Threat Level: BEYOND CRITICAL
Personal Note: What if I've loved him all along?
Secondary Note: Need more colored tabs
Final Note: This was never pretend, was it?
I ended up at Trent and Ryan's at midday, clutching Sam's notebook and trying not to fall apart.
"I can't control it," I blurted when Trent opened the door. "I can't... I can't make a plan for this."
My brother took one look at me and pulled me into a hug. "Come on, sis. I'll make tea."
Their house was quiet, warm winter light softly shining through the glass windows. Photos of their life together lined the walls—Trent and Ryan's wedding, Seth and Emma's adoption days, family gatherings that showed love didn't have to be perfect to be real.
Decorations from Christmas and Thanksgiving still peeked out here and there—a pumpkin now covered in tinsel, a row of multicoloured fairy lights, a discarded elf on a shelf.
Their home had love and life in it. And I loved that for my brother.
"The kids are at Mom and Dad's for the weekend," Trent explained, guiding me to their kitchen. "And Ryan's working late on a case."
I sank into a chair at their breakfast bar, still clutching Sam’s notebook. "I'm sorry for just showing up."
"Please." He started the kettle. "Like you haven't sat through plenty of my crises."
"That's different. You always knew what you wanted." I traced the worn edge of Sam's notebook. "You knew you loved Ryan, even when you were apart."
"Ah." He leaned against the counter. "So this is about Sam."
"Did everyone know?" The words came out sharper than intended. "Was I the only one who didn't see it?"
"To be fair, you were a bit busy trying to control everything else."
"I don't—" I caught his knowing look. "Fine. Maybe I do. But that's my job. To manage things. To keep everything running smoothly."
"And how's that working out for your heart?"
I dropped my head to the counter with a groan. "When did you get so annoyingly insightful?"
"Probably around the time I stopped trying to control everything and admitted I was in love with my best friend." He set a mug of tea in front of me. "Sound familiar?"
"It's not the same."
"No?" He pulled out the chair beside me. "Let's see years of friendship, fear of ruining what you have, one person quietly pining while the other remains oblivious..."
“You then broke up. For years.”
“I was a fool.” He waggled a finger at me. “Which means you should learn from my mistakes.”
"I hate you."
"You love me." He nudged my shoulder. "Just like you love Sam."
The word made my chest tight. "I can't."
"Why not? You married him."
I flushed, turning away. “That might have been a drunken mistake.”
“No kidding? The unicorn celebrant certainly didn’t tip me off.” He rolled his eyes. “Go on, tell me why it’s impossible to have fallen in love with a guy who acts like you hung the moon.”
"Because..." I sat up, wrapping my hands around the warm mug. "Because if I admit that, if I let myself feel that, then everything changes. The band dynamic, our professional relationship, everything we've built... it all becomes complicated."
"News flash, sis. You're already married to him."
"That's different. That's..." I waved a hand. "Manageable. This is..."
"Real?"
"Terrifying."
Trent was quiet for a moment, studying me. "You know what scared me most about loving Ryan?"
"What?"
"That I couldn't control his response. I could plan the perfect moment, say the perfect words, but in the end, I couldn't control whether he loved me back." He smiled softly. "Turns out, I didn't need to. The messy, unplanned reality was better than anything I could have orchestrated."
"But what if it goes wrong?" My voice cracked. "What if I lose him completely?"
"What if you don't?" He gestured to the notebook. "From what I can see, that boy's been loving you steadily for years. Through crazy schedules and professional crises and everything else. Maybe it's time to stop managing and start feeling."
"I don't know how."
"Yes, you do." He squeezed my hand. "You just have to be brave enough to try."
I took a sip of my mug, mulling over his words.
I loved Sam. There wasn’t any doubt of that. But what really concerned me, what threw up the barrier between me loving and me wanting to be loved was exactly what Trent had identified.
Fear.
I feared Sam hurting me like Alex had. I feared not having control of my emotions, my life, my decisions. I feared he’d break my heart.
When every piece of evidence I had about Sam pointed to the opposite.
Damn.
"Trent?" I gripped my mug tighter. "I need your laptop."
"Why do I feel like I'm about to witness peak Faye organization?"
"Because you are." I pulled out my phone, already creating a new folder. "I need to make a PowerPoint."
His laugh was warm and knowing. "Of course you do."
"Don't mock me. This is important. This is..." I gestured at the notebook. "He gave me songs. Beautiful, heartfelt songs. I need to give him something that's... that's me."
"And that's a PowerPoint presentation?"
"No." I straightened in my chair. "It’s a comprehensive five-year plan, complete with contingencies, projected outcomes, and risk assessments, presented in my signature color-coded style with appropriate graphs and—why are you looking at me like that?"
Trent's smile was soft. "Because this might be the most perfectly you way to say 'I love you' that I've ever heard."
"You think it's too much."
"I think Sam's going to love it precisely because it's too much." He stood, retrieving his laptop. "It's you being unapologetically you. Planning and organizing your way through feelings instead of running from them."
I opened the laptop, fingers flying over the keys. "I'm going to need sticky notes. And that fancy paper you use for your fire department presentations. And?—"
"The color-coded tabs from your emergency PR kit you keep and Mom and Dad’s?"
"Yes! And?—"
"Your backup external hard drive with all the band's photos from the last five years?"
"How did you?—"
"Because I know you." He was already reaching for his keys. "And I know you've documented every moment without realizing you were creating a love story. Want me to grab it while you start your slides?"
I launched PowerPoint, already formatting my title slide. "Yes. And Trent?"
"Yeah?"
"Can you call Liz? I need statistics on successful marriages that started as friendships. And maybe some data on music industry relationship longevity. For the analytics section."
"The ana—you know what? Never mind. Of course you need an analytics section." He kissed the top of my head. "I'll call her. Anything else?"
I looked at my growing outline:
Slide 1: Executive Summary - Why Sam Dogg Should Consider a Permanent Merger of Hearts
Slide 2: Historical Context - A Five-Year Analysis of Unconscious Love
Slide 3: Risk Assessment - Why I Ran (And Why I'm Done Running)
Slide 4: Market Analysis - Why We Work Better Together
Slide 5: Future Projections - Vision Board for Years 1-5, 5-10, 10-50
Slide 6-39: Detailed Supporting Evidence
Slide 40: Proposed Next Steps
"Yes," I said. "I need every photo you have of Sam with the kids. Especially that one from Seth's birthday when Sam taught him to play 'Yellow Submarine.'"
"For the presentation?"
"For the 'Why You're an Amazing Uncle’ section. It's going in right after the real estate market analysis for potential future homes."
Trent's laugh echoed down the hall. "Only you would include a real estate analysis in a love declaration."
"It's called being thorough!"
"It's called being Faye," he called back. "And that's exactly why it's perfect."
I turned back to my laptop, heart racing but hands steady as I began to type.
Presentation Objective
To provide comprehensive evidence supporting the transition from temporary marriage arrangement to permanent partnership, with detailed analysis of past indicators, present compatibility metrics, and future growth potential.
Key Deliverable
One (1) happily ever after, metrics to be determined by mutual agreement of involved parties.
Because maybe this was how I loved—with plans and spreadsheets and color-coded tabs.
Maybe this was my love song.