CHAPTER 32
CARY
Later that night, Cary was wide awake. He drifted to the window and stared out at the frozen stretch of Saskatchewan, moonlight casting a dull glow over the quiet landscape.
How was Tyler supposed to get used to this life—his life—with the press tracking their every move? LA was out of the question. She’d never be happy there. But Vancouver didn’t light her up either.
He could move. Why not? He didn’t need palm trees or fancy lunches.
He just needed her. Vegas had been right—taking a break from touring wasn’t the end of the world.
A baby would change everything. And it should.
He wanted to be there. Not just show up between gigs, but really be there.
Diapers and midnight feedings and all. You didn’t get those moments back.
Still, he couldn’t ignore the guilt. His band, his crew—they’d put their lives on hold so he could chase a dream.
He owed them. But maybe he didn’t have to vanish completely.
He could still pay them while he took a step back.
And knowing Vegas, the guy would keep himself busy.
The man treated downtime like a personal insult.
And where was Vegas anyway?