Chapter 28 – Willa
TWENTY-EIGHT
WILLA
We get one more week of peace.
One more week of laughing and working on Leo’s house together.
Another night at the Mill with the crew.
One evening, I get wrangled into a girls’ night, which turns out to be just helping Wren organize and prepare her fall decorations.
That night, I get my first glimpse at how chaotic Wren gets with holidays, something Adam has warned me about, and excitement floods me at the mere idea of spending a Christmas in Holly Ridge.
But on Sunday night, I lie in Leo’s bed in his arms and wrestle with the understanding that tomorrow, it all ends.
Tomorrow, I go back to the city, back to being Willa StoneTM.
Tomorrow, I leave Just Willa and Holly Ridge and nights at the Mill and chaotic girls’ nights and everything I’ve come to love about this place, even if it’s only for a little while.
But most of all, I lose Leo.
I, of course, have taken breaks before, though they’ve never been this extensive in degree of visibility or in length.
As far as I can remember, the longest I’ve ever lain low like this was for a month, and at the end of it, I was absolutely itching to get back to work.
To get back to the appearances, the smiling, the performing, the building of my brand.
For the first time in my life, I’m not overly eager to go to work.
For the first time, I’m not seeing it as a return to my real life, but to a fake one, curated to benefit my career, not necessarily myself.
Three months ago, that thought alone would have sent overwhelming guilt moving through me, guilt from feeling like I didn’t appreciate all that I have, the life people would kill to experience, but now, I’m realizing it’s okay to want more out of life, that it doesn’t make me ungrateful or spoiled to wish for balance.
“I don’t want to go back,” I whisper into the dark room, my head on Leo’s chest, his fingers moving through my hair. I didn’t mean to say that aloud, but the thoughts have been moving through my head over and over and over until eventually, they slipped out past my lips.
But now that the confession is out in the room, a weight lifts from my shoulders, as if the confession alone released some of the tension that was haunting me.
“What?” His hand stills in my hair for a moment before continuing, sliding down before repeating the movement.
“I don’t want to go back.” This time, my voice is shaky, and I close my eyes tightly.
It’s strange to speak it aloud, these words I never ever imagined myself saying, but I also never thought I’d find myself falling deeply in love in a small town.
I never imagined I’d see my responsibilities and career as something that’s getting in the way of my happiness.
“You have to give me more, honey,” he says low, the words patient as he always is with me.
I realize now that he always has been this way with me, even when I was driving him crazy, even when I first showed up, and he wanted me to walk the straight and narrow.
He’s always been patient and understanding in his own way, keeping a pulse on what I was happy to do and what I wasn’t, adjusting plans and expectations accordingly.
It drives Jackie crazy, since she sometimes sees it as him playing things too safely, but I understand now he’s always had my best interests in mind.
Me, Willa Stone, the girl, not Willa Stone, the brand.
“I don’t want to go back to real life.” Silence takes over, Leo giving me time before I break it again. “I don’t want to go back to the city or to being followed around or pretending I’m this person I don’t think I really am anymore.”
Leo is quiet for a few moments, and my heart races before he finally speaks.
“Do you want to quit?” There isn’t judgment or shock or fear in the words, and that gives me the room I need to be honest, both with him and myself.
Do I want to quit?
This is the last album I have on my contract. I could record it, go on tour, and then fade into oblivion. I could live a normal life here in Holly Ridge, put my old life behind me, and never look back. It’s not like I work because I need the money, after all.
But the mere thought of not continuing to make music, not performing, or recording or writing sends a bolt of dismay through me, answering my question quickly.
“No,” I say, because it’s the truth. I can’t imagine a life without music.
It’s what I love most of all. I want to sing, perform, and meet fans.
I want to keep selling out stadiums and touring the circuits, but on my terms. “I love my career. I love the fans, and I love performing, but I don’t like…
the rest of it. I don’t love the interviews, the events, the paparazzi, and the pressure of it all. ”
He continues to lie beside me quietly, his hand making reassuring movements against my hair as I process what I’m feeling.
“I never thought I could have the kind of peace I’ve found here, but I did, and now that I have it, I don’t want to let it go. Being here made me realize I want a life where I can have that and what I have here.”
“And you’ll have it,” he murmurs in his soft voice. Normally, it appeases me, especially when paired with his closeness and his fingers moving through my hair, but I can’t deny it anymore—the panic and nervous energy that’s been creeping in from the sidelines for weeks now, lying in wait to strike.
“How? How are we going to do this?” I whisper, my throat aching. “How am I supposed to just…leave all of this? How am I going to just leave you?”
“You’re not leaving me, Willa,” he says.
“But everything is going to be different,” I say, the words spilling out quickly. “What if it all falls apart? What if you see that version of me again and—”
“Hey, hey, hey,” he says, cutting me off. “What’s going on?” My lower lip wobbles. “Honey, how long have you been worried about this?” I lift a shoulder, trying not to look at him, embarrassed. “Willa, you have to talk to me about this kind of thing, or else it’s going to eat at you.”
“I didn’t exactly want to remind you that I was going to date another man, Leo.
” He smiles at my attitude, and something about that eases the vise in my chest just a fraction.
“How are you so okay with all of this? If you were dating some other chick in front of me, I’d lose my mind, Leo. And you’re so…calm.”
“That’s because you’re not dating another man in front of me, Willa.
You’re going to be doing your job. I’m man enough, confident enough in what we have, to separate the two.
Am I pleased that I’m going to see photos of you on some asshole’s arm?
Not exactly, but that’s your job, and I told you before: I will never get in the way of that.
It’s no different than acting for a movie or a show, and if you wanted to go back to that, I would be just fine with it.
I’m okay with it, because he’s not actually getting you, Willa,” Leo says, voice firm and reassuring as he sits up and then pulls me into his lap so my legs wrap around his hips, our faces close, his forehead to mine.
“Here’s how it’s going to go. Tomorrow, I’m driving both of us to the city, and we’re going to walk into the building together, because I’ve already agreed to take you.
Then we’re going to sit in that meeting and let Jefferson think he’s cowed me, you’re going to meet another asshole who doesn’t deserve you, and he’s going to schmooze you because we all know that no matter what Jefferson does or says, if he is an ass to you in front of Jackie or me, he’s done.
” Nerves move through me, remembering that it’s not just me who has something on the line here: Leo does, too.
“Leo, I don’t want you to get into trouble, I–”
“I won’t be any more protective of you than I always have been, and we both know I’ve always been a little protective of you, if not a little standoffish.”
“I guess…I guess that makes sense,” I agree, because it does. Looking back, Leo has always been protective of me.
“Then you’re going to go back to your place.
Not your home, because we both know your home is here, with me, in Holly Ridge.
” A tear falls at his blunt words, and he swipes it away quickly with his thumb.
“You’re going to get ready, and then you’re going to go on your date.
It’s going to suck, knowing you’re out with him, but when you’re done, and you’re home, you’re going to call me and tell me all about it, and honestly, Willa?
That’s all that matters. All that matters is that at the end of the night, you’re mine.
You can go play pretend, be the fake version of yourself for everybody else, but every night, I go to bed knowing I get the version that dances in the rain and on tables and who toilet papers houses.
I get the version who eats chicken nuggets in my truck and calls it the best meal ever.
And every night, I’m going to get the version that whispers I love you in the sweetest, softest voice, and I get to know I’m the only one who gets that.
” Another tear falls, and he swipes that one away, too.
“And we’ll do that every fucking night, Willa.
Every night until you’re done. Next month, you’ll come home for Hallie and Jesse’s wedding, and we’ll have our normalcy for a weekend, and then you’ll be home again for Christmas, and you’ll meet my mom.
” My eyes widen with his declaration, which is news to me.
In the past few weeks, I’ve been around while he spoke to his mom on the phone and asked him to say hello for me, but we’ve never actually had the meet the parents talk.
“What?” I say, my voice squeaky with a different kind of nervous energy, and his lips tip up with a smile. “Your mom?”
“She’s going to love you, Will. She already loves you because she knows that you’ve changed me for the better.”
“I—”
He keeps talking, forcing me to move past that momentary shock, if only just for now.
“And then in February, your relationship will end, and in July, my contract will be up. I’ll be free to quit and start my own firm; we’ll make it official; and then we’ll never do this again.
” He says the words like a vow, his hands on my face pulling me closer for a soft press of his lips to mine before he speaks against them.
“We are never going to be apart again unless we have to.”
That familiar pit swirls in my stomach, knowing that with a new album will come a new tour.
“I have tour–”
“And I will come to every one I can.”
My brows furrow, and I shake my head.
“I can’t expect you—”
Leo rolls his eyes and sighs, and from the sound, I know he thinks I’m being stubborn.
“I’m your publicist, Willa. It’s not like you’re asking me to do anything outside of my job description.”
He does, in fact, have a point there. Mentally, I picture Leo and Jackie battling the entire tour, Jackie trying to cater to Willa Stone, the pop star and performer, and Leo determined to keep his Willa, Just Willa, happy, healthy, and sane. The idea actually makes me smile a bit.
“And then we’ll spend every free minute down here, being us. You’ll be Just Willa, and I’ll be relaxed Leo, and we’ll have nights at the Mill and summer days working on your garden, and you’ll decorate this place until it’s exactly what you want.”
The way he says it all makes sense, and it’s the knowledge that settles inside of me, the knowledge that not only are we both on the same page, but we’re both determined to make it work.
That the next year might be one of growing pains as we wrap up one era of our lives in order to start the new one, but we’re both okay with that because we have our eyes on the prize: our future together.
“We’re really going to make this work, aren’t we?” I ask in a whisper, an uncontrollable grin spreading across my face with the realization. He presses his lips to mine once more before settling his forehead to mine.
“We’re going to have it all, honey. Always.”
Those are the words that tide me over the rest of the night as I fall asleep in his arms and as I get ready the following morning.
They move through my mind as, for the first time in months, I put my Willa Stone shield on, realizing that it no longer fits perfectly, the facade feeling a bit like a shirt that shrank a bit in the wash after months of growing into the louder, more colorful version of myself.
When I stare in the mirror, despite my hair being a bit darker, I see Willa Stone, the pop star, staring back, and despite spending nearly ten years as her, she’s no longer as familiar as she once was.
The dress I’m wearing today is not the one Jackie sent me, but a slight twist on my normal color palette that Nat helped me pick out last week, a subtle hint at the colors that will be on the next album.
A fun easter egg for fans on my first sighting in months.
Because, despite what I need to present to the world today, I am not the same girl who fled to Holly Ridge three months ago.
“Ready?” Leo asks from beside the bedroom, and I turn to look at him over my shoulder.
He, too, is different from the man I’m used to seeing, hair combed neatly back instead of mussed, one of his hot as fuck suits on, expensive leather shoes instead of work boots.
But now, there’s a soft look in his eyes and a smile I know he saves just for me.
“Yeah, give me a sec,” I say, then reach for a lipstick on the counter, one of the brighter pink ones Nat helped me pick out, one far off the Willa Stone color palette, but I swipe it on anyway.
And when I smile at the mirror, remembering the beauty I’ve lived since I’ve been here, I smile—the real one, the wonky one, and I find comfort in seeing it.