Chapter 43
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Sloane
“What is that?”
I turn to look at Ivy and Olivia, who don’t seem as shocked as I am to see a stage in the middle of the Christmas Market, right next to the giant Christmas tree.
“Is this some sort of carol singer thing?”
The makeshift stage is adorable, with Christmas lights flickering all around it. But there’s an energy surrounding the stage that makes my stomach flip. As does the Wild Reverie banner…
I turn to Ivy and Olivia, expecting some sort of explanation. They both look pretty unfazed, even though I feel like I just walked into an alternate reality.
“Come on,” Olivia says with a laugh. “Let’s go and find out, shall we?”
“Why don’t I know what this is?” I demand as Ivy drags me towards the stage. “I’m supposed to be the social media manager. I’m not prepared to video this.”
Ivy rolls her eyes. “Don’t record anything. This is just for fun.”
When I get closer, I can see the crowd, people milling around, and there’s a hum of excitement.
The press is already setting up their cameras, jockeying for positions as if they’re expecting something extraordinary. And let me tell you, this is a lot for a town that’s known for its corn festivals and quirky Christmas traditions.
I hate this.
I really don’t want the press to see me.
I know I was the one who said we can’t keep hiding, but that doesn’t mean I like the lights of showbiz much either.
I turn to Ivy and Olivia, expecting them to give me some sort of reassuring answer. But they don’t.
I’m starting to think they knew this was coming, which is why they are pulling me to the front of the crowd, right by the stage.
My pulse picks up speed. I can feel the energy, a buzz of excitement that’s impossible to ignore. People are talking in low murmurs, some nervously checking their phones, others glancing up at the stage, waiting for a signal to go wild.
“Ooh,” Olivia says, glancing back at me, clearly already in the zone for the performance. “This is gonna be the best show you’ve ever seen.”
Ivy is already laughing at something one of the kids in the crowd said, but I’m still trying to catch my breath.
The fact that Roman, Creed, and Ezra are about to take the stage, right here, right now, seems unreal. The band that I’ve spent so much time with in the past weeks, in ways that have meant more to me than I ever thought they would.
And now they’re about to perform… Like this? With the press watching? My nerves are spiking, my stomach doing a dozen flips in different directions.
And then, suddenly, a hush falls over everyone as the stage lights shift to an electric blue. I turn just in time to see the guys step out, the silhouettes of Roman, Creed, and Ezra standing there against the glittering backdrop. The crowd erupts into cheers.
Roman, of course, takes the mic first.
“Ladies and gentlemen, we know you didn’t expect this, but we’re here to give you something special tonight!” His grin is infectious, practically vibrating with energy. “Let’s make this a Christmas you won’t forget!”
The crowd goes wild. The sound is so deafening that it makes me freeze for a moment. But then, as Roman’s voice fills the air, I feel this rush of pride and something else. Watching them perform, watching the way they connect with the crowd, I realize just how much they’ve grown.
How far they’ve come from the messy, directionless band I met when I first got here.
Ezra, standing just behind Roman, catches my eye for a moment, and the intensity of his gaze makes my chest tight. It’s the kind of look that says everything and nothing at the same time. I swallow, trying to calm my nerves.
But then they begin to play, and the music sweeps over everything, over the press, over the people, over me. Their sound fills everywhere, and I forget for a moment how nervous I was.
It’s electric, and suddenly, it’s impossible to deny how much this wild, messy, unrestrained energy is everything.
It’s them. It’s the magic I didn’t even realize I needed.
I can feel Ivy nudging me, her grin wide as she watches the performance. “Told you it would be epic.”
I can barely respond, too caught up in the music and the way it’s wrapping around me, pulling me into this moment.
The press is snapping photos, capturing the high-energy of the show, and it’s surreal. Like this night, this moment, is somehow being carved into the memories of everyone here.
The crowd is entirely under their spell. Roman, Creed, and Ezra are moving together like they were born for this moment. Even the press, usually vultures waiting to pounce, are transfixed. Cameras flash, but no one dares to interrupt the magic of it.
They finish the third song, and I think that’s it, that they’ll bow, maybe say a few words, and disappear backstage. But Roman stays where he is, mic in hand, that mischievous grin of his softening just a little.
“This next one,” he says, “isn’t just another song. It’s for someone who came into our lives when we didn’t even realize we needed her. She keeps us together when we fall apart. She believes in us even when we don’t believe in ourselves.”
I freeze.
Roman glances sideways at Ezra and Creed, and both of them nod. There’s this silent agreement that passes between them, one I recognize instantly. The kind that means they’re about to do something completely reckless and heartfelt.
Ezra steps up to the mic beside him, his expression unreadable under the stage lights.
“Sloane,” he says, and my heart stops. “This one’s for you.”
The crowd collectively gasps. Oh. My.
The press cameras immediately start flashing again, like lightning. Ivy actually squeals beside me, clutching my arm so tightly I might lose circulation. Olivia grins, the kind of grin that says I absolutely knew this was coming and I’m delighted by how much you didn’t.
And then the music starts.
The first few notes are soft, delicate. Ezra threading through them like velvet. Roman joins in a moment later, and Creed’s steady rhythm pulses beneath it all, the lyrics… wow, the lyrics.
It’s my story.
Not in the literal sense, but in the way they’ve captured it. The fear, the second chances, the feeling of being seen. It’s about loss and rebuilding, about finding a home in unexpected places, about love that doesn’t fit into neat little boxes but still feels the truest thing in the world.
And it’s so apparent, so unmistakably clear, that this song is about us.
Every word drips with emotion: Ezra’s quiet devotion, Roman’s reckless affection, Creed’s grounded warmth. Three hearts tangled up with mine in ways that defy explanation, and now they’ve put it out there. For everyone. For the press.
My chest tightens. Panic surges up as a tidal wave.
“Oh my,” I whisper, clutching Ivy’s arm. “They can’t… They can’t just… They’re telling the whole world!”
Ivy, infuriatingly calm, smirks. “Yep.”
Olivia leans in. “And honestly? It’s about time.”
I stare at them, horrified. “Do you have any idea what this means? The headlines? The speculation? I’ll be ripped apart… again!”
Olivia shakes her head. “No, Sloane. Not this time. Because now there’s no speculation. No rumor mill. No guessing games. They’re saying it for themselves that they love you. All of them. And the world can’t twist that into something ugly. It’s just the truth.”
Ivy nods, eyes softening. “They took the story out of everyone else’s hands. Out of yours, even. Now it’s theirs. Yours. Together.”
I don’t know whether to cry or laugh. My throat feels tight, my hands trembling as I watch the stage, as I watch them.
Roman’s eyes find me in the crowd again, his grin widening.
He knows exactly how flustered I am. Creed catches my gaze next, the corners of his mouth lifting just slightly, reassurance without a single word.
And Ezra… he doesn’t smile. He looks at me like every word he’s singing is meant for me alone.
The song builds to its peak, the final chorus breaking open into something raw and beautiful.
“You were the light we didn’t know we needed,
“The calm in the storm, the reason we stayed.
“If the world burns down, we’ll still believe it…
“That love like this won’t fade away.”
When it ends, the applause is thunderous. People are screaming, clapping, and cheering. But all I can hear is the thundering of my own heartbeat.
They’ve just told the world they love me in a song. Ezra’s writer’s block seems to be well and truly over because they love me.
All three of them.
And instead of fear, what floods through me now is something else entirely. Relief. Warm, dizzying, impossible relief. Because finally now, after everything fell apart months ago, I don’t have to hide. I don’t have to explain.
The story’s already out there. But this time, it’s ours.
The crowd’s roar fills my ears, but I’m underwater, everything distant and muffled.
I’m still frozen, caught in this surreal moment.
And then, suddenly, the stage lights shift again.
Roman, Ezra, and Creed start walking toward me.
Their steps are synchronized, like they’ve been practicing this for years.
The closer they get, the faster my heart beats.
I blink, trying to process what’s happening. I want to run, to disappear behind the nearest tree, but it’s too late. The press is already capturing every second, their cameras snapping furiously.
Roman reaches me first, that damn grin still on his face. “You didn’t think we’d forget you, did you?”
Before I can respond, he grabs my hand and pulls me gently towards the stage. The crowd parts for us like a wave, and I’m suddenly at the foot of the stage, eyes wide as the band looks down at me.
It feels like a dream.
“Sloane,” Roman says. “This is for you.”
I glance over my shoulder at Ivy and Olivia, who are both grinning. Olivia’s practically bouncing with excitement, and Ivy, who has been calm the entire time, is watching me with a look that says, It’s okay, Sloane. Trust them.
And somehow, I do. I trust them.
Before I know it, I’m being helped onto the stage, my breath catching in my throat. The crowd is still cheering, but I’m in a bubble, their noise fading into the background as I stand before the three of them.
Roman, Creed, and Ezra are all watching me, their gazes full of warmth and something deeper that makes my heart flutter in ways I didn’t know were possible.
Roman steps forward first, tilting my chin up with one hand and pulling me close. My breath hitches as he leans in, his lips warm and soft against mine. The kiss is short but sweet, full of promise. When he pulls back, there’s a glint in his eyes that tells me he’s not done yet.
“That was just the beginning,” he whispers, and before I can even fully process that, Creed is right there, taking his place.
He doesn’t say anything. He looks at me with this unflinching gaze, and then his lips are on mine. This kiss is slower, more intense.
His hands cup my face like I might break, like I’m something precious. And in that moment, I almost feel I am. It’s grounding, reassuring, and somehow, it’s everything I’ve ever wanted. No words, just feelings.
Creed pulls back, his forehead resting against mine for a beat. “We are in this forever with you. Or at least for as long as you want us.”
And then Ezra.
When he kisses me, it’s different again. But all of the unsaid things between us come pouring through. He pulls back just enough to look at me, his eyes dark with emotion.
“Sloane,” he says raspily. “You’re everything.”
I can’t breathe. I can’t think. The world has stopped spinning, and in this moment, there’s only them. Only us.
The crowd is still cheering, but it feels distant. The world feels distant. All that matters now is this: the three of them, their love, their promises, their presence.
The press will write their stories, but this… this moment, this kiss, this band, is ours.