Chapter 43
Chapter Forty-Three
MILES
SUNDAY DINNER
The days blurred together in an endless loop of night and day that I barely registered. Sleep came sporadically, food was a distant thought, and everything else happened because West told me to. If you’d asked me, I’d say I was pathetic.
But despite the fact that I mentioned it a few times, I truly never thought she’d run.
Not from me. I always knew she’d go back to the stage eventually, but I didn’t think it would be without me in her life.
Somehow, I’d convinced myself that what we had or what we were was too strong for her to walk away from.
Yet, there I was, confused, pissed, hurt, and undeniably heartbroken.
While she was in Harmony Haven, she’d cut herself off from the world, leaving behind the chaos and expectations. She couldn’t have known Sam was in town looking for me. No one knew except me and I didn’t tell her.
Which meant that she left on her own accord and that was the reason I let her go. If Loxley was capable of leaving after the way we made love that last night, then she had to have really wanted to go. And I loved her enough to give her what she wanted.
At least, that’s what I kept telling myself over and over. But deep down, I knew there was a piece missing in our puzzle. There had to be a gap in the story I was too blind to fill in.
Around me, Sunday dinner played out like it always did.
The clatter of dishes, laughter, and the teasing banter between my brothers filled the air.
My family left me alone, though. They let me stew in my thoughts.
Except for Max, who sat beside me and quietly fed me green beans off his plate one at a time.
He didn’t give a shit that I hated green beans and I was too far gone to turn down anything he shoved in my mouth.
Toward the end of dinner, West leaned back in his chair, a sly look on his face as he aimed in my direction.
“Hey, lover boy.” I didn’t answer, just raised an eyebrow to let him know I was listening. “I made some calls before dinner,” he said. “And I just got a text.” He tapped a few buttons on his phone, then looked up at me with a nod. “Check your phone.”
Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I glanced at the screen and opened the text West had just sent.
He had forwarded me a front-row ticket to Loxley’s concert in Chattanooga on Monday night, and I stared at it for a full minute.
I didn’t say thank you. I didn’t say anything.
I just gave a small nod, slipped my phone back into my pocket, and stared at the table.
Over the past week, I’d told West I was sure Sam wouldn’t let Loxley out of his sight.
He probably had people posted near every entrance at her shows, armed with my picture, ensuring I didn’t show up.
I’d joked that I’d have to buy a ticket just to see her.
Now, West had handed me one on a silver platter.
Only West could pull strings and throw money around to secure a front-row seat to what was apparently the hottest ticket in country music. From the little I’d caught on the news, Loxley’s return to the stage had been met with wild ticket sales and overwhelming buzz.
After dinner, as everyone started to say their goodbyes, I lingered with my grandparents.
“Should we go catch a few fish Wednesday? Isn’t that your next day off?” Gramps asked casually.
“Sounds good, old man.” I hated fishing now, but being with Gramps always seemed like a good idea.
He cleared his throat and I knew what was coming before he even asked. “Can I ask you something really quick?”
I nodded. I could never deny him, even when I knew it was about Loxley.
“Did you fall in love with her?”
“You know I did,” I admitted without hesitation.
“Did she fall in love with you?”
I froze. I didn’t answer. Because the truth was, if she had, I wanted her to tell me herself. I didn’t want to assume, even though I felt it in my bones that she had.
When I didn’t respond, Gramps sighed and left to help Grams with the dishes. I stayed at the table a while longer, staring at the empty plate in front of me before finally heading out.
The drive home was quiet. The kind of quiet that made my thoughts seem louder. So I finally flicked the radio on for the first time in days, hoping for a distraction, and just as I pulled into my driveway, the first notes of one of her songs came through the speakers.
It was the one that had been playing the day I pulled her over.
The one about hating men and wanting revenge.
It made me smile, despite everything, because I knew the truth now.
She hadn’t written that song. She told me that she only wrote what she felt, but the label made her sing what would trend.
And just like that, it hit me. She wrote what she felt.
Leaving those lyrics behind wasn’t a mistake. It wasn’t an accident. She wanted me to read them. She wanted me to know how she felt. And there was no way in hell I was going to tell West that he was right all along.
My hands gripped the steering wheel as my mind raced. Only after the song ended did I jump out of my Jeep and make my way inside to the stack of music and I started reading.
West had handed me a front-row seat, and she'd left me a whole doorway.
I just had to decide if I was ready to walk through it.