Epilogue
THREE YEARS LATER
Joey
Faithfully by Journey
The roar of the crowd vibrates through the walls, thrumming up through the concrete floor and into the soles of my feet.
From the wings, I watch Jesse stalk across the stage beneath a banner: Shine a Light: A Concert for Youth Mental Health Awareness, guitar slung low, his voice raw and soaring as ten thousand people sing his lyrics to him.
Lyric squirms on my hip, her noise-canceling headphones slightly too big for her head. She points a chubby finger toward the stage. “Dada.”
“Yeah, baby.” I press a kiss to her temple. “That’s daddy.”
She has his dark hair and my stubborn jaw, and at two years old she has opinions about everything. She refused to wear the dress I picked out tonight, insisting on her favorite overalls instead. Jesse laughed so hard he had to sit down. I blame him entirely.
Jesse rolls his sleeves to the forearm, tattoo ink dark against sweat-sheened skin, and wraps both hands around the microphone stand.
The muscles in his shoulders shift beneath a black shirt that clings to every line of him, and when he tilts his head to scan the crowd, the sharp angle of his jaw settles low and certain in my body—familiar, wanted, and still enough to undo me.
A thousand shows later, and watching this man perform still makes me press my thighs together. Pride anchors in my chest, heavy and immovable.
“This next one’s a cover,” he says, and the crowd screams. “A classic.” He looks my way and smiles. “Baby, I’m forever yours, faithfully.”
My hand traces the sunflower inked on my hip, an unconscious habit I’ve never been able to break.
Jesse pulls the guitar strap over his head, hands it off to a tech, and crosses the stage to the grand piano. The crowd hushes as he settles onto the bench and places his fingers on the keys. For a single suspended second, the arena holds its breath.
The opening notes spill from the stage, a Journey ballad, “Faithfully”, stripped down and aching, Jesse transforming it into something even more devotional.
His voice wraps around the melody, the way he sounds at three in the morning when he’s half-asleep and singing to Lyric, and it unravels me completely.
Across the arena, phones rise one by one until ten thousand tiny screens glow in the darkness like stars, swaying in time with the music.
And I know, the way I’ve always known, every word is for me.
Goosebumps race up my arms. I press my lips to Lyric’s hair and let the tears fall.
Stella’s bass line weaves beneath his voice, delicate and haunting. Tommy anchors the rhythm on drums, steady as a pulse.
Jesse’s voice cracks on the high note, and he doesn’t try to hide it. He never does anymore.
Lyric sways in my arms, eyelids drooping. It’s way past her bedtime.
Luke slips through the backstage door, hair longer than I’ve ever seen it, filled out through the shoulders, carrying a steadiness the old Luke never had.
I shift Lyric higher on my hip and smile. “Hey, you.”
“Hey.” He closes the distance and wraps an arm around me, careful not to crush Lyric between us. “Good to see you, Joey.”
“You too.” I mean it.
He pulls away and gives Lyric a gentle pat on the head. She studies him with suspicious intensity.
Luke settles beside me in the wings, and we watch together as Jesse holds the final note, letting it ring until the crowd swallows it whole. The lights cut. Ten thousand people scream into the dark.
When the stage lights surge again, Jesse is already on his feet, pushing away from the piano bench, hair pushed off his forehead, shirt clinging to damp skin as his stride eats the distance between us.
He smiles the way he does when the rest of the world ceases to exist, wide and reckless and entirely mine.
He hooks a hand behind my neck and kisses me. Lyric protests with an indignant squawk, trapped between us.
His mouth curves against mine, and Lyric squawks again.
Jesse takes her from me, settling her against his chest. “Hey baby girl.” She melts into him immediately, fisting his shirt in her tiny hands, head dropping to his shoulder. Daddy’s girl through and through.
Luke steps forward, and Jesse’s whole face opens up. He pulls Luke into a hug, one of those back-clapping, one-armed guy hugs.
“Glad you came, man,” Jesse says when he pulls away, gripping his shoulder.
“Great show.” Luke nods toward the stage. He pauses, jaw working once before he speaks. “I’m really proud of you. This whole thing—the charity, the music, all of it. It’s amazing.”
Jesse’s voice roughens. “You miss it?”
Luke considers the question. “Nah. Got my nine-to-five now. Engineering for a recording studio. Good coffee in the break room.” He smiles and then takes a moment. “I’m happy, Jesse.”
“Good.” Jesse squeezes his shoulder. “That’s all I wanted to hear.”
A blur of platinum blonde hair and Stella launches herself at her brother hard enough to knock him sideways. He catches her with a grunt, arms wrapping around her, chin resting on top of her head.
“You came,” she says into his chest.
“Wouldn’t miss seeing my little sister play a sold out venue.”
Tommy appears behind Stella, hooks an arm around her waist, and spins her into a kiss that belongs in a bedroom. She grabs a fistful of his shirt and kisses him deeper, rising on her toes, and for a moment, the two of them forget anyone else exists.
When they finally break apart, Tommy slides both hands down to grip her ass. “Great show, babe. I love watching you play from behind.”
“Jesus Christ, Tommy.” Luke closes his eyes like he’s praying for patience.
“Can’t help it, man.” Tommy shrugs, unapologetic. “It’s a great ass.”
Stella swats his chest but doesn’t pull away. “I can’t wait to get home. You can finally finish painting the guest room.”
Tommy winces. “Don’t we have another tour stop before…”
“Thomas.” She grabs his chin, tilting his face toward hers, and gives her chest a deliberate shimmy. “When you’re done, you get your cookie.”
Tommy straightens to full height, practically saluting. “Yes, ma’am.”
Luke pinches the bridge of his nose and tips his head toward Jesse, exasperated. “How do you put up with them?”
Jesse shifts Lyric higher on his chest. “Patience. Lots and lots of patience.”
Luke shakes his head, but he’s laughing, and the three of them drift toward the catering table in a tangle of arms and insults. I watch them go, and my chest aches in the best way.
“Did she make it through the whole set?”
“Barely. She’s fighting sleep like it’s a personal enemy.”
“That’s my girl.” He glances around at the controlled chaos: roadies breaking down equipment, managers barking into phones. “Come on. I need five minutes of quiet before they drag me to do press about the charity.”
He takes my hand and leads me down the hallway to his dressing room, shutting the door behind us. The venue’s roar drops to a muffled hum, the bass still pulsing through the walls like a distant drumline. In the sudden quiet, Lyric’s breathing slows as she finally surrenders to sleep.
Jesse sinks onto the leather couch, Lyric sprawled across his chest. I thought I was in love with Jesse before, but watching him with our daughter makes me fall more and more in love with him every day.
I drop beside him, close enough for our shoulders to press together, the heat of him radiating through his shirt and into my skin. For a long moment, we sit in silence, letting the adrenaline settle.
“You were incredible tonight,” I say.
“Yeah?”
“Very sexy. The swagger and the shameless dedication.” I nudge his knee with mine. “Laying it on pretty thick out there.”
He smiles, but the humor drains from his expression, his gaze sharpening, settling on me with an intensity that threatens to undo me.
“What?” I ask.
“I asked you something once.” His voice drops low. “You told me to ask again someday.”
The warmth climbs from my ribs to my collarbone, settling behind my eyes.
“Marry me, Joey.”
I press my lips together. “No.”
He leans in and kisses me, slow and deliberate, his mouth warm and tasting of salt and adrenaline. When he pulls away, his forehead rests against mine.
“Marry me.”
“No.” But my voice wavers, and we both hear it.
He kisses me again, deeper this time, his free hand sliding into my hair. His thumb traces the line of my jaw, and I melt into him the way I always have, the way I never learned how to stop.
“Come on, Joey.” His lips brush mine between words. “I’ve been asking you for three years.”
“I know.” I curl my fingers into the fabric of his shirt and pull him closer.
“You’re killing me.” Another kiss, soft and aching. “You’re actually killing me. Marry me, baby.”
I pull away far enough to search his eyes, and I find the man who never missed a midnight feeding, who changed diapers without being asked, who showed up every single day even when the hard days tried to swallow him whole.
Things between us haven’t always been easy, but they were never meant to be.
I’m not the girl who played it safe anymore, and he’s not the boy who hid behind a mask.
I had set out to make my own path with the therapy program, and that’s been up and running successfully.
And sitting on this couch with our daughter asleep on his chest, I can’t find a single reason to say no anymore. I love him. I have always loved him.
I hold his gaze and nod. “Okay.”
His brow furrows. “Okay?”
I laugh, blinking hard against the sting behind my eyes. “Yes, Jesse. I’ll marry you.”
“Fuck, really?” He blinks, mouth opening and closing once before the grin breaks across his face. “I didn’t actually think you’d say yes.”
I wipe my eyes with the heel of my hand. “You don’t have a ring, do you?”
He reaches into his pocket, and when his hand emerges, there’s a ring pinched between his fingers—a simple, perfect diamond.
“I’ve been carrying this in my pocket for over three years, Joey.”
My eyebrows climb. “Three years? That’s very reckless.”
“I’m hopelessly in love with you.” He reaches for my hand, and I give it to him. He slides the band onto my finger. It fits perfectly.
Jesse traces the ring with his thumb, feather-light. His other hand rests on Lyric’s spine, and my sunflower peeks out from beneath his sleeve, the ink faded slightly with time.
“Permanent,” he says.
I curl my fingers around his.
“Permanent.”
If you’re not ready to say goodbye to Jesse and Joey, you can download this exclusive bonus scene: Faithfully, which takes you six years into their future—where Jesse is preparing to leave for tour, Joey is running the therapy program, and their daughter Lyric has Jesse completely wrapped around her finger.
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