37. Mateo
MATEO
Emerson rushes up the stairs, closing the distance between us, and it’s like the world around us completely fades.
“Ems!” Crew practically launches himself out of my arms the second he sees her, and I grab his mic and stick it in my back pocket.
His little hands reach desperately toward her, his whole face lighting up as though she's the only person in the world he can see. I tighten my hold around him before he can tumble straight out of my grasp and off the stage.
I barely hear the crowd anymore.
All I can focus on is Emerson making her way toward us.
The closer she gets, the more I can see. The tear tracks glistening on her cheeks beneath the stage lights.
The way she's trying—and failing—to stop more tears from spilling over.
The way she lets them.
The tremble in her bottom lip. The disbelief written all over her face, like she still can't quite process what she just witnessed.
My chest squeezes so hard it almost hurts.
Crew squirms again, reaching for her. "Ems!"
The sound of her name on his lips nearly destroys me.
Emerson lets out a shaky laugh that breaks halfway through, one hand flying to her mouth as a fresh tear slips free.
Then she's there.
She wraps her arms around Crew first, pulling him against her chest so tightly that he squeals. A second later, her other arm circles around my shoulders, and I don't hesitate.
I fold myself into her.
Into them.
Into the warmth of my son pressed between myself and the woman who became part of my life so seamlessly, I forgot what life looked like without her.
Crew's tiny arms hook around both of our necks, trapping us together in the clumsy, desperate embrace only a four-year-old can manage.
The crowd disappears.
The lights disappear.
For a moment, everything disappears except this.
The feel of Emerson shaking with quiet tears against my shoulder. The soft weight of Crew nestled between us. The overwhelming certainty that this is where we're supposed to be.
I bury my face against her hair and close my eyes.
“Did you like our song?” Crew asks, his voice muffled from how tightly he holds us against himself.
“I loved it, champ,” Emerson says, loosening her grip so she can lean back enough to see us.
Her gaze goes to mine as I set Crew down on his feet.
“I didn’t know how else to show you how much I—” I look down at Crew, “we need you. And not just as our nanny—well, his, n-nanny,” I manage to say, the words tumbling out of me.
“It’s been a really long time since I’ve had feelings for someone like this, and I don’t even know if you have the same feelings, and I know this might seem like it’s coming out of nowhere, or maybe it doesn’t, but I’m all in, baby.
” My hand goes to the side of her neck, the admission coming out more confident than I actually feel, but I don’t let myself look away from her gaze, no matter how fucking scared I am.
“I’m yours if you want me, and even if you don’t. But I really hope you do because—”
She claps a hand over my mouth. “Shut up and kiss me, rockstar.”
And I do.
I kiss her with every part of myself. With every fear I've carried. Every hope I was afraid to name. Every piece of my heart that somehow found its way into her hands long before I realized I'd given it away.
Everything else disappears.
All that’s left is the feeling of her fingers against my skin and her breath mingling with mine. Only the certainty that no matter where life takes me from here, I will never be the same man I was before her.
Because Emerson isn't just someone I’m falling in love with.
She's become a part of me.
Like the tattoos etched across my skin, she's written into every version of who I am. Except ink only marks the surface. Emerson's mark runs deeper. She's woven herself into my bones, settled beneath my ribs, carved her place into the very fabric of my soul.
There's no separating myself from her.
No undoing her.
No erasing the way she became everything I’ve waited my entire life for.
And the truth is, I wouldn't want to.
Because when I look at her, I don't see someone who entered my life.
I see someone who became my life.
Someone who took all the fractured, lonely pieces of me and somehow made them feel whole.
So I kiss her like she's the beginning of everything.
Like she's the answer to every prayer I stopped believing would be heard.
Like I’ll spend the rest of my life being the man she deserves, whether she wants me or not.
She’s it for me.
And I plan on showing her I can be it for her too.
“Okay, lovebirds,” Silas says into his microphone, and I feel Emerson smirk against my lips. “If you two don’t mind, we have a show to finish.”
Laughter sounds among the crowd as Emerson’s head falls to my shoulder, and I open my eyes, finding smiles on the faces of my family and closest friends just beyond the stage.
Crew pats my leg, and reality finishes settling back in.
“Let’s go, champ,” Emerson says, holding her hand out for Crew, who takes it eagerly.
I grab her by the waist before she can walk away. “That way,” I say, pointing to where I wish she'd been all night—in the wings at the side of the stage. Where she belongs.
She hears the words I don’t say, pressing a quick peck to my lips like it’s the most natural thing to do, and the crowd goes wild.
“Aren’t they just the cutest?” Theo says into his microphone as Emerson and Crew hurry off stage.
“How you doing there, loverboy?” Silas’s voice sounds over the speakers, and I feel like a cartoon with hearts twirling around my head as I watch Emerson walk away.
She and Crew find their spot just as one of the stage managers hands Emerson a pair of headphones. She loops them over Crew’s ears, and he turns towards the stage as he adjusts them.
“Never been better,” I answer into my microphone, placing it back in the stand as I gather my bearings.
Laughs echo through the speakers as Eddie cues us in for our next song, and I’ve never known a feeling so bittersweet.
A few minutes ago, I thought my heart was going to give out. The anticipation of showing Emerson my cards and hoping she didn’t just take them and throw them into the wind.
Now it feels too full to fit inside my chest.
Emerson is here. She chose me. Chose us.
And somehow, at the exact same moment, I'm standing on the edge of losing the thing that helped make me who I am.
I look over at Eddie, Theo, and Silas, and pressure builds behind my eyes. These idiots have been beside me through everything—every shitty bar gig, every sold-out arena, every fight, every victory, every version of ourselves we've grown through over the years.
This stage has been my home for so long that I don't know who I am without it.
But when I glance toward the side of the stage and find Emerson with Crew bouncing to the music just in front of her, both of them watching me like I'm the only person in the world, something settles inside me.
Maybe that's the thing about endings.
They only hurt this much because they made room for something worth missing.
And for the first time, as I start the lyrics to our final song for the very last time, I'm not mourning what I'm leaving behind.
I'm just grateful I got to have it at all in the first place.