Epilogue
The roar of the crowd had my heart pounding along with it. I lingered by the open door of the dressing room in an effort to calm my nerves, but nothing was helping. Not the cool night air. Not the guitar that I gripped in my hand. And certainly not Tilly, who was pacing back and forth in the dressing room, repeating the songs that I’d chosen to perform for my first-ever live show.
I still couldn’t believe this was my life.
It had been a year since I moved into the apartment across the landing from Stone. A year since we agreed to fake a relationship to help me get discovered. And a year since we both said I love you.
After talking to Cherry Red Records, I decided to sign a contract with them. My career exploded from there. There were times I feared this was all dream, and I was going to wake up back in my small, cramped apartment, searching for a new place to live.
Instead, I woke to Stone’s warm, strong arms around me as he held me close.
“The merch guys really outdid themselves,” Stone’s Gran, Mona, said as she pushed past me into the dressing room. She was decked to the nines.
She had a custom shirt made from a picture she took of me one afternoon while Stone and I were visiting her. I was playing the guitar, and she said it was the prettiest picture she’d ever taken. The text over the photo said, Emerson King’s Number One Fan. She was my favorite, both here at my concerts, and in the reserved family box at Stone’s games.
She called me her granddaughter and adored me. The feeling was mutual.
Mona was handing out merch she’d purchased outside the arena, like we didn’t already own the shot glasses, blankets, or sweatshirts that had my face and name on them.
I stepped back into the dressing room and shut the door behind me. Tilly looked up, tapping her watch before she said, “Five more minutes, Em.”
I nodded and saluted her. “Yes, ma’am.”
“You look beautiful,” Mona said as she hurried over to me and pulled me into a gigantic hug.
“Thanks,” I whispered. I was wearing a silver-beaded rhinestone unitard. My hair was curled and flowed past my shoulders. My makeup was thick and felt unnatural, but that was what was needed for all the lights and cameras.
“Stone is so disappointed that he couldn’t be here. But, you know, the?—”
“The game. I know.” I smiled at her. “It’s the curse of loving an NFL player.”
Mona pressed her hands to my cheeks. “But he made sure I knew where I was needed the most.”
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“Ooo! That reminds me. He wanted me to give you this.” She pulled her hands back and raised a finger as she headed toward her purse.
A smile broke out as I watched her in anticipation. I was heartbroken when Stone told me he had an away game and wasn’t going to be able to come to my first concert. I’d tried to hide my disappointment, but I knew Stone saw it. He’d pulled me into his arms and kissed me while whispering that he was sorry.
After that moment, I made myself swear that I wouldn’t feel sorry for myself. This wasn’t Stone’s choice, and I wasn’t going to make him feel bad about it. We both had demanding jobs, and neither was more important than the other.
So, the fact that he’d given his grandmother something for me, filled the hole that was created by his absence.
“He said you’d recognize the envelope,” she said as she turned and handed me a familiar white envelope.
“Tilly,” I said, holding it up.
She laughed and shook her head. “Aw, Stoney.”
I slid my finger under the sealed flap and tore it open. It was the exact envelope he used to have Hayden send me before every performance. I glanced inside, and my heart skipped a beat. My jaw dropped, and Tilly and Mona both asked in unison, “What is it?”
“Oh my gosh,” I whispered. “I can’t believe he found one.” I tipped the envelope, and a gold four-leaf clover keychain fell out into my palm. Inscribed on the front were the words, a chuisle, a chroí. I curled my fingers around the keychain and brought it close to my chest, tears brimming my eyelids.
“That’s amazing,” Tilly whispered as she wrapped her arm around my shoulders. “But you cannot cry. It took an hour to get your makeup on. Let’s not have a repeat. We have to leave in a minute.”
I glanced over at Tilly, and I could see the panic in her eyes. I knew she meant well, so I nodded, tipped my head up, and took in deep breaths. It wasn’t easy being my manager, but she was doing so well.
“Right,” I said as I slipped the keychain into my brassiere. If Stone wasn’t going to be here, I was going to keep a piece of him with me. I glanced at Tilly and then Mona. “Is it time?”
Tilly nodded. “It’s time.”
My heart started pounding once more as I crossed the room and picked up my guitar, which I’d left just outside the door. Mona and Tilly moved to join me. They smiled, and it helped calm my nerves.
“Are you ready?” Mona asked, wrapping her arm around my shoulders.
“No,” I whispered. “But that doesn’t really matter now, does it?”
She squeezed my shoulder and shook her head. “Not really, hon. But I already know you’re going to be amazing. So just lean on my confidence, and you’ll do great.”
I smiled over at her as we followed Tilly out of the dressing room. “Thanks. I really appreciate that.”
“Of course, dear. Anytime.”
They lingered with me backstage as I waited for my cue. Suddenly, all the lights on the stage turned off, and darkness fell around us. I nodded to Tilly and Mona as I headed out onto the stage to take my place.
Once I was on my mark, I slipped my guitar strap over my head, readied my fingers, and waited for the lights to come back on.
* * *
I was exhaustedwhen I finally crawled into the back seat of the rental car after the concert. I had the time of my life, singing and engaging the audience. All the dancing. All the practice. It all came to a head tonight.
Thankfully, I remembered the choreography, and I only messed up once. The crowd didn’t seem to notice. They just cheered and sang my songs right along with me.
By the time the performance was over, I was shaking as I walked off stage. Mr. Smith joined me in the dressing room with a celebratory bottle of champagne. My nerves were already shot, so I contemplated turning down the drink but decided one glass wouldn’t hurt.
I wished I hadn’t, though. With the adrenaline leaving my body and the alcohol in my system, my head felt as if it were buzzing. Thankfully, Tilly hired me a driver, and Max knew where to take me once the performance was over.
He pulled up to the Nashville High-Rise Apartments, and Grant, the doorman, was there to help me out. I said a quick goodbye to Max as I followed Grant, who was carrying my guitar, into the building. He pressed the call button for the elevator and kept the conversation light, which I was grateful for.
Once the doors opened, he scanned his card and pressed the button for the twentieth floor—our apartment. I leaned against the wall, and Grant wished me a good night as the doors shut.
I closed my eyes as the elevator took me home.
As soon as the doors opened, the sound of soft music filtered in from our living room. I frowned as I picked up my guitar and stepped out. Rose petals were sprinkled on the ground leading into the dining room.
Stone came into view when I cleared the entryway and peered into the kitchen. I set my case down and ran into his arms. He wrapped one tightly around my waist and pulled me up, cradling my head with his other hand.
“Em,” he murmured into my hair.
“You’re home!” I exclaimed. I closed my eyes and breathed him in. Then I pulled back so I could look at him. “When did you get back? And how?”
Stone set me down and pulled his arms back so he could look at his watch. “I got in, like, one minute ago. And by plane,” he said as he leaned in and pressed his lips to mine.
I giggled as I parted my lips and let him in. I wanted him to kiss me—needed him to kiss me. He obliged. His arms slipped around my waist as he pulled me against him. But just as we got started, he stopped and pulled back.
“You’re distracting me,” he said as he tipped his forehead and rested it on mine.
“Distracting?” I asked, and then I remembered the rose petals. And, when I glanced around, I saw candles all around us. I pulled back and took it all in. “Stone, what is this?” I whispered. Then I glanced over at him. “Hayden?”
He chuckled. “Who else?” His expression stilled as he studied me before he slowly dropped to one knee.
My breath caught in my throat. “Stone,” I whispered.
He slipped his hand into his front pocket and pulled out a small ring. He held it up in front of me. “Emerson King.”
“Yes,” I whispered.
He met my gaze. “I have loved you my entire life. You are the reason I breathe. As much as I tried to move past you, I never could. You are my soulmate. You are the breath in my lungs.” He paused like he was trying to remember. “A chuisle, a chroí.”
I smiled at his butchered attempt.
He cleared his throat and held the ring up once more. “What I’m trying to say is, will you marry me?”
“Yes.”
He studied me. “Really?”
I held out my left hand. “Yes.”
He stood before he took my hand and slipped the ring onto my finger. Tears filled my eyes as I brought my hands up to his face and guided him to kiss me. His lips met mine, and a moment later, his arms were wrapped around my waist, and he was pulling me up.
I wrapped my legs around his waist as he carried me over to the kitchen counter and set me down. He broke away from my lips so he could feather kisses across my cheek to my neck and down to my collarbone. I tipped my head back and moaned in approval.
Then he pulled back, and I could feel his gaze on me, so I focused my attention back on him.
“Are you really going to be my wife?” he asked. There was a hint of disbelief in his voice.
I held his gaze, so he knew that I was never going anywhere. “I will be your wife. And you will be my husband.” Then I took his hand and rested it on my belly. “And someday, I’ll be the mother to your babies.”
His gaze followed his hand. He paused as if he were letting my words wash over him. Then he slowly brought his gaze up to meet mine. “You promise?”
I chewed my bottom lip. “I promise.”
He grinned as he wrapped his arms around my back and pulled me toward him. “I love you.”
I wrapped my legs around his waist, and my arms around his neck. I pressed my lips to his a few times before I pulled back and met his gaze. “I love you, too.”
***
I hope you enjoyed Emerson and Stone’s romance. I had so much fun getting to know each character (Grandma Mona is my favorite). It was fun to challenge myself with writing something that went along with an event happening in pop culture right now, but making it different enough to feel like it’s its own story.
If you’re looking for a new series to dive into, check out my Sweet Tea and a Southern Gentleman series. It starts with my two times USA Today Bestselling book, The Inn on Harmony Island.
Enjoy this sneak peek of Chapter One:
Shelby
I’d never noticed the way rain looked as it fell into puddles. The tiny splashes each drop made caused smaller drops to spray around it. The ripples would go for only a moment until another drop would fall, and the effect would happen all over again.
A low murmur of amens drew my focus away from the puddles. I wrapped my black shawl tighter around my shoulders as I turned to the pastor who was standing behind my grandmother’s coffin. He was speaking, but in all honesty, I couldn’t hear what he was saying. My stomach was a bundle of nerves since I drove the rental car into my small hometown, and I couldn’t sort out anyone’s words.
I’d left this place 10 years ago, never to return. That was, until Gran up and passed away. I couldn’t very well not go to her funeral. So, I packed my carry-on and flew down from New York to face the past that I’d tried so hard to forget.
And here I was, staring my history straight in the face.
I sighed as I ducked my head down. Miles’s body tightened next to me when our arms brushed. I glanced over at him to see his jaw muscles flex, but his gaze never wavered from the pastor’s face.
Was it strange that my ex-stepbrother was more broken up about my grandmother’s passing than me?
I pursed my lips and turned my attention to my lap.
Yes, that was strange. And sad. And pathetic.
Even though I wanted to console my ego and convince myself that it was okay that Miles had cried more times than I had during the funeral planning. That the funeral director handed him the box of tissues and never offered them to me. Nothing I could say to myself would fix the cold, hard heart my past had left me with.
I wanted to cry. I really did. But it was as if my tears were dried up. There was nothing left. I’d cried so much in the past that it was as if my body was completely incapable of producing tears. I was broken, and this was proof that I was never going to be fixed.
My body turned numb as I watched the cemetery owner lower the coffin into the ground. Even though it was raining, the early spring heat surrounded us. Mr. Jorgenson, the town’s mayor, wiped his forehead with his handkerchief before stuffing it back into his suit coat. Most of the other guests were leaving, sprinting to their cars with their hands or purses over their heads. The women were slowed by their heels digging into the soft ground.
I glanced down at the dark oak coffin in the ground, wondering for a moment if Gran would have been disappointed with what we’d chosen. Even though it had been years since we’d spoken, I still wanted to please her. To settle her into her final resting place in comfort.
Movement next to me drew my attention over. Miles was standing a few yards off, shaking hands with the pastor who then nodded and turned to hurry through the rain to his car.
We were now officially alone.
Miles hesitated; his gaze focused on something in front of him. But then, as if he could feel my gaze, he turned.
I knew I should look away. Facing Miles—facing Harmony Island—was the last thing I wanted to do. But I couldn’t drop my gaze. The familiarity in his stormy blue eyes as they peered into my soul paralyzed me. Miles had been my protector when we were kids, but then our parents divorced and something in him changed in high school. Our relationship was never the same. Especially now, when he seemed closer to my grandmother than I could ever be. That stung as bad as the wasps from the nest we knocked down as kids.
I shivered and focused on the hole in front of me. I was done thinking about Miles. I was finished thinking about our past. But as soon as I saw Miles approach me from the corner of my eye, I sucked in my breath.
I cursed myself. Why had I allowed our gazes to meet? I’d spent most of my three days here giving short answers and keeping to myself in the only motel in town. The other lodging options, Harmony Island Inn and the Apple Blossom BB, were places I swore I would never go.
Too many bad memories roamed the halls.
“You okay?” Miles’s voice was low and rumbly. I wasn’t sure if it was because of our history or the situation we were in.
I nodded, tightening my grip on my upper arms. “I’m just glad it’s over. I’m ready to get out of here.” Miles remained quiet. I peeked over at him, worried that I’d said the wrong thing. “I mean?—”
“I know what you mean.” Miles slipped off his suit coat, folded it in half, and rested it on the chair behind him. Then he yanked at his tie and loosened the top two buttons of his white shirt. After ruffling his gelled hair, he began to unbutton his cuffs and roll up his sleeves. “She never wanted you to stay away, but she understood why you left.”
His words were like poison to my soul. It was easier to believe that my grandmother hated me than to think she’d spent her life waiting for me to return. When I was in New York, I could pretend that we had a mutual understanding. Our family was toxic. A broken mix of flawed people that fate stupidly threw together. My grandmother, my mother, and me.
We were the opposite of the three musketeers. We were a mixture of oil, water, and alcohol. Three pieces of a puzzle that would never fit together. Now, they were both gone. My senior year of high school, Mom ran away with her yoga instructor and died in a car crash.
With Gran in the ground, I was the only one alive.
I was the only one left carrying the burden of the failure that was our small, dysfunctional family.
“I doubt that,” I whispered as I tucked a few strands of hair behind my ear that the cool ocean breeze had managed to free from the tight bun at the nape of my neck.
Miles finished rolling his sleeve and glanced over at me. I could see that he was fighting his response, and the truth was, I didn’t want to hear it. It was easier when I didn’t think anyone cared.
“So, are you leaving us for good then?”
His question caught me off guard. Leaving us. I hated that he’d moved into my life, my hometown, and my past like this. If I had my way, we would sell Harmony Island Inn and never look back.
“Yes,” I responded, nodding my head.
“And the will? Are you going to come back for the reading?”
I took in a deep breath and tipped my head back, closing my eyes. “We both know that she didn’t leave me anything.”
“We do?”
I opened my eyes, looking up at the white canopy that protected us from the rain. “Despite what you say, she wrote me out of her life a long time ago. There’s no point in pretending otherwise.”
“Shelby—”
“Miles, I’m tired.” I pulled my phone out of my purse and opened my rideshare app.
Miles stepped forward with his hand extended. For a moment, I caught what looked like desperation in his gaze before it disappeared. “Why don’t I give you a ride? I mean, the church organized a dinner and everything.” His half smile was weak and did little to dissuade me from what I’d already decided. “The town…misses you.”
I snorted as I looked up at him. Then I shook my head and returned to filling out my information and sending in the request. “I seriously doubt that.” I sighed. “I’m going to go back to my hotel room and jump in the shower. My flight is early in the morning, and I can’t be late.”
“Oh.”
I hated that he seemed disappointed. But I needed him to move on. Returning to my one-bedroom apartment in New York where I could bury my memories until they were good and dead was the only thing holding me together.
“Listen, I know my grandmother meant a lot to you, but let’s not pretend that there’s anything left for me here. Our family is finished.” My voice cracked at the last word, which threw me off guard.
I hoped Miles didn’t hear my last sentence, but after seeing the small quirk of his eyebrow, regret filled my chest.
He’d heard.
I cleared my throat. “Thank you for taking care of my grandmother in the last moments of her life.” I brushed my hands down my black dress, desperate for something to do. The mixture of my grandmother’s coffin in front of me and the way Miles was studying me, tugged at the fraying strands that were barely holding my life together.
But I knew if I didn’t thank him, the pressure to acknowledge that he was the better grandchild would gnaw at me until I would eventually buy another plane ticket to come down here and confess it. I wanted this to be the last trip I made to my godforsaken hometown. I needed to make sure I tied up all my loose ends with a pretty little bow.
“Of course,” Miles said. “She helped me a lot.” His voice deepened as he turned to face the hole where my grandmother now lay. His shoulders slumped, and I suddenly felt sorry.
I felt sorry for him. I felt sorry for my grandmother. And I felt sorry for me.
No one had it perfect. We’d messed up so bad that, sometimes, the best thing to do was to call a foul and walk away.
And that was what I was determined to do.
My phone dinged, startling us both. I lifted it up so I could see the screen.
“My ride’s here,” I whispered.
Miles pushed his hands through his hair once more and nodded. “Yeah, okay.” Then he paused.
I could see in his body language that he wanted to say something more, and I had a sinking suspicion as to what that was. Problem was, there was no way I was ready to hear any of it.
“It’s been nice knowing you,” I said. And before I could stop myself, I reached out and rested my hand on his arm. His warm skin shocked my fingertips, and I blinked and pulled my hand back, cursing myself for doing that.
What was wrong with me?
Miles’s gaze dropped down to the spot I had touched before he brought his gaze up to meet mine. His dark blue eyes had turned stormy, which caused my stomach to flip-flop.
My phone chimed again, pulling me from my thoughts. I pushed my purse strap higher up onto my shoulder and then gave him a weak smile.
“Goodbye, Miles,” I said as I stepped around him.
He didn’t say anything as I passed by. It wasn’t until I’d stepped out into the rain, raising my purse up over my head that I heard his response.
“Goodbye, Shelby.”
Like a dam breaking inside of me, the tears began to flow. I was grateful for the rain now more than ever. My tears mixed with the water running down my face as I crossed the cemetery lawn and pulled open the door of the black SUV.
The man asked for my name, and I managed to get that out. He didn’t say much else as he put the car into drive and took off down the small, one-lane road that led to Main Street.
Thankfully, he didn’t ask me what was wrong. Being picked up at a cemetery seemed to be all he needed to know. Hiding under that excuse, I allowed the tears that had refused to fall all of this time to flow. I was hurt. I was broken. And for this moment, I was going to allow myself to be weak.
As soon as I got back to New York, I’d forget. But for now, I didn’t have the strength.