Chapter 6 Understanding The Situation #3
“You’re doing that on purpose,” she said after a minute, narrowing her eyes just slightly.
“Doing what?” he asked, not looking up.
“Changing it just enough to make me pay attention,” Carry almost insisted.
That had earned a small grin. “Maybe,” Billy replied with a devilish smile forming across his face. “Is that such a bad thing?”
She shook her head, but there was something else there too—something that hadn’t been there when she started dancing. Looser. Easier. “You’re trouble,” she said lightly.
“Not usually,” Billy replied. “Only when people need it.” That slowed her for just a fraction of a second. Not the dancing. Something else.
“You think I need it?” she asked.
Billy had finally looked up then—not pushing, not pulling.
Just meeting her where she was. “I think you needed a minute where you didn’t have to think about anything else,” he said.
“Just like me. That break up with Mia hit me rather unexpectedly.” She didn’t answer right away.
But she didn’t step away either. Instead, she stayed right there, letting the music carry a little more of it than she had been before.
“I didn’t realize how loud everything was,” she said quietly after a moment.
Billy nodded once, softening his hand on her waist just slightly. “Yeah,” he said. “It gets like that.” He lifted his arm to give her a twirl, then pulled her back into frame. Her eyes dropped for a second, then lifted again—not at him, but just past him, like she was looking through something.
“It feels like I’m trying to keep up with something that’s already decided,” she admitted. “Like I’m running late after my own life.” That one stayed with him. Even now. He didn’t try to fix it then. Didn’t offer advice or redirect it. He just kept dancing.
“You don’t look like your running late,” he said after a second.
That got a faint exhale out of her—not quite a laugh, but close. “Feels like it,” she said. The music carried them a little longer after that. Not much said. Didn’t need to be. By the time the song wound down, she had stepped back—not distant, just… steadier. “Thanks,” she said.
“For what?” Billy asked.
She gave a small shrug. “For not making that complicated.”
Billy had nodded once. “Anytime you want to dance, you know where to find me.”
She held his gaze for just a second longer—then turned back toward the reception, disappearing into the crowd again, back to Cassie, Wendy and Katie.
The chord shifted under Billy’s fingers without him realizing it.
Back in the lounge, the same rhythm lingered—but quieter now.
More thoughtful. He glanced over at Greg.
Still leaning back. Still resting. Billy looked down at the guitar again, his fingers slowing slightly as the memory settled.
“…Yeah,” he muttered under his breath. Not to Greg or anyone really.
The chord lingered under his fingers, softer now, almost trailing off before he caught it and let it roll into something new. Not a restart—just a continuation. The kind that didn’t announce itself. And just as easily as the first memory had come—another followed.
It was later that same night as the reception had thinned out a little by then.
Not empty, not quiet—but less crowded. The kind of shift where conversations grew more personal, less surface-level.
He’d stepped off to the side again, leaning against a column this time, as if he expected to step up onto the stage as a fill in.
He hadn’t expected her to come back but she did.
“Thought you might still be here,” Carry said as she approached, her tone lighter—but not entirely free of what had been there before.
Billy glanced up, just slightly surprised—but not showing much of it. “Thought you might’ve had enough dancing for one night after three dances together,” he replied.
She shook her head faintly. “Not really.” A small pause. “It just depends who’s asking.”
That pulled just enough of a smile out of him to notice. He adjusted his hat without looking down. “You doing the asking?” Carry didn’t answer right away—but she stepped in again. That was answer enough.
The rhythm picked back up, a little smoother this time.
Less tentative. Like they didn’t have to figure it out again.
For a moment, it stayed light. Easy. Then she exhaled—quiet, but noticeable.
“Cassie, Wendy, and Katie pulled me aside,” she said.
Billy didn’t interrupt. Just listened. “They’ve been talking to me about Veronica’s offer,” she continued.
“Managing Veronique. Coming on the tour.” Her eyes shifted slightly, not quite settling anywhere. “They think it’s the right move.”
Billy let the words settle before answering. “Do you?”
Carry hesitated—not long, but long enough to matter.
“I don’t know,” she admitted, “With Alice staring at me with the evil eye,” she said like it stung.
“Part of me does.” A faint pause. “It’s…
everything I wasn’t even thinking about before.
Opportunity. Travel. Something bigger.” She let out a small breath.
“And we’d all be there. Together again just like it used to be back at MCC Penn Valley. ”
Billy nodded once, keeping the rhythm steady. “That part makes sense, getting the gang all back together, being surrounded by friends.”
She glanced at him, like she was trying to read something—but he wasn’t giving her anything to push against. “They think I’m holding back,” she added. “Because of Greg.” That didn’t change his dancing—but it changed his focus.
“And are you?” he asked, slightly intrigued.
Carry’s grip shifted slightly as they moved, not pulling away—just tightening for a second before easing again. “I don’t want to be,” she said quietly. “I don’t want every decision I make to come back to him.” Her eyes dropped for a second. “But it does.”
Billy didn’t rush to answer. Didn’t correct it; didn’t soften it. “That doesn’t go away just because you decide it should,” he said.
She let out a small, almost frustrated breath.
“I know. If I didn’t love him so much, it wouldn’t be a difficult choice for me.
Plus, I still have to consider the opportunity that Pimico has afforded me.
” The music carried them a few more steps before she spoke again.
“They said this could change everything,” she continued.
“That I could build something for myself. Not just… fit into someone else’s world.
” A pause. “That I wouldn’t have to wonder where I stand anymore. ”
That one sat differently. Billy’s feet slowed just slightly before finding the rhythm again. He looked her directly in her eyes. “And what do you think?” he asked.
Carry looked back at him—directly. “I think I’m tired of feeling like I’m trying to catch up to something that keeps moving,” she said. “And they’re offering me something that feels… certain.”
Billy held her gaze for a second longer than before—then nodded once. “Then it’s not a bad thing to look at,” he said.
She studied him, like she expected more. Like she expected him to push back. He didn’t. “You’re not going to tell me not to do it?” she asked, her eyes almost pleading for certainty.
Billy gave the faintest shake of his head. “No,” he said simply which surprised her. “I’m not going to tell you to do it.”
“Why not?” she asked.
Thoughts had raced through his mind right then.
‘Because I don’t want you walking away from something that could matter to you.
Because I don’t want to be another voice telling you where you belong.
Because I don’t trust myself not to make this about something else.
’ He tried to open his mouth to answer but none of that made it out.
Instead; “Because it has to be your decision,” he said.
“Not theirs. Not mine and not his.” A slight pause. “Yours.”
Carry held his gaze for a moment longer.
Then something in her shoulders eased—just a little.
“Yeah,” she said quietly. “That’s what I keep coming back to.
” The music slowed as the moment settled.
Not ending. Just… landing. “Thanks,” she added.
“I’m glad you knew just when to listen, and to leave it up to me to decide. ”
Billy gave a small nod. “Anytime.” She stepped back again—not distant… just thinking. Then turning away, she started heading back toward Cassie, Wendy, and Katie—already being pulled back into their energy. Billy watched her go for just a second longer than he needed to.
Back in the lounge of the Studio, his hand slowed again, the progression softening into something more reflective.
Then he looked down at the guitar, letting the last chord fade out under his fingers.
He glanced over at Greg—still resting, still quiet.
Billy looked back down. “…Yeah,” he murmured under his breath.
Not an answer. Not a conclusion. Just… recognition.
“It had to be yours,” he silently said to himself.
“It had to be yours.” The last chord faded cleanly.
Billy let his hand rest against the strings, eyes down for a second before lifting them toward the hallway as the studio door opened.
Voices filtered out—low, satisfied, controlled.
Session finished. Timing, just like everything else around her.
Greg’s eyes opened without him moving his head.
He didn’t look disoriented. He looked like he’d been thinking the entire time.
Billy stood, setting the guitar aside. “That’s your window,” he said quietly.
Greg nodded once, already shifting forward. “Yeah, it does sound like it.”