Chapter 4
Now
In the back of the ambulance on the way to the hospital, I remember thinking I’d never felt more helpless in my life.
But I was so fucking wrong.
Had I known what I was about to hear, I would’ve told myself to brace for earth-shattering news and the crushing fear now consuming my every thought.
Cancer.
One single word has forever changed my life—will forever change her life. The woman I’ve loved for over ten years has stage two endometrial cancer and there’s not a damn thing I can do to make her better.
Well, that’s hopefully not true. I refuse to remain helpless. I still can’t believe I convinced Taevin to get a second opinion in Minnesota.
They kept her overnight for fluids and monitoring, and she was discharged a few hours ago.
I got my shit from my hotel suite and booked a private jet while she grabbed her things and tried to brush off Braidy’s protections and evade Kyle’s interrogation.
I’m not sure what the deal is between her and Kyle; she said he’s her manager, but he seemed more upset about the prospect of her going with me than that she wasn’t going back to Nashville with him.
He didn’t even argue the fact that she said she didn’t need Braidy to come and draw more attention to her when she had me to protect her, just seemed more upset that he too was being left behind.
Looking over at the plush seat beside me, I’m still shocked to see her just right there, sitting within reach and breathing the same air as me, after all this time.
Her raven hair is piled into a messy bun on top of her head, and some time over the past few hours the plane has been in the air, she got overheated and ditched my hoodie she’d borrowed.
Now, as she uses said hoodie as a pillow, I take in her resting form.
She looks so peaceful, and I hope for her sake she’s able to sleep for the remainder of the flight.
Instead of taking a nap, my eyes trace the lines of her face, noting the differences of the woman sleeping before me from the girl I fell in love with a decade ago.
In place of her typically makeup-free skin I saw when we were together, Taevin has dark eyeliner framing her eyelashes and to top off the look is what has become her signature berry lipstick that has had my mouth watering since I watched her apply it on the way to the airport.
It almost felt like she was applying her armor as she prepared for battle; though, I’m not sure if she was going to war with the paparazzi that waited for us at the private hanger, or if she’s gearing up for her battle with cancer.
My stomach sinks further at the daunting prospect of her impending fight. Taevin shouldn’t have to do this, especially not after watching her own mother wither away from cancer when Tae was only a teen.
And what the fuck was that back at the hanger? I knew Tae was famous, but I don’t think I quite comprehended just how renowned she is globally. Both paparazzi and fans swarmed her at the private airport, and I had to step in front of her several times to shield her from the masses.
Blinking back to the present, I continue to take in the differences between eighteen-year-old Tae and the woman beside me. Possibly the most noticeable change from the church-going choir girl I knew back then is the half-sleeve of black ink covering the upper half of her left arm.
I’m no stranger to tattoos myself, and have them covering a lot of my body’s landscape, but even knowing she had them doesn’t prepare me for seeing them up close.
Sure, everyone with eyes knows the famous Taevin Gray has these as well as several others covering her back, but as I take in their intricate detail, I’m mesmerized.
Her upper arm and over her shoulder is filled with black and white roses. I don’t miss the way the stems weave together and are full of thorns. The sight throws me back in time to when I gave her that nickname.
“Your perfume drives me crazy,” I tell her, inhaling deeply before placing open-mouth kisses on her collarbone. “Roses.” Kiss. “Cinnamon.” Kiss. “And hazelnut.” Kiss.
I’m spurred on when she leans her head to allow me more access to her neck, and the adorable snort she lets slip has me chuckling against her skin before she informs me, “That’s my hazelnut coffee creamer, not my perfume.
And the roses are an homage to my mom; they were her favorite.
Alright, back to the matter at hand, Superman. Less talking, more kissing.”
I gently bite down on her collarbone at her use of that ridiculous nickname. “Why do you insist on calling me that all of a sudden? I don’t have a hero complex.”
That comment seems to spur another snort from her. “You totally do! You’re always looking out for everyone but yourself. But that’s not why I call you that—well, not the only reason.”
Motioning for her to continue, I say, “Come on, spill. Why do you call me that?”
“Aside from the fact that you’re so selfless, you’re also like Clark Kent to me. Hockey player by day, musician by night. I can’t believe you’ve been holding back the truth from me for so long.”
“Does that make you my Lois Laine?”
“Nah. I’m more of the helpless heroine you have to save.”
“And what am I saving you from, Thorn?”
“Thorn?” she questions instead of answering mine.
“Yeah, you’re being a thorn in my side right now by delaying my reward for winning my game this afternoon. Also, I think I prefer when you call me Bear.”
“Wow . . . How sweet of you. You’re a real modern-day Romeo.”
“Romeo and Juliet’s love story ends in tragedy, Tae. There are no tragedies in the cards for us.”
My stomach sours at how wrong I was to say that back then just as Taevin stirs beside me. She blinks her eyes slowly and stiffens slightly when she realizes where she is. Then she sits up and, to my disappointment, puts my sweatshirt back on, covering her skin I hadn’t finished detailing to memory.
Once she settles, I shift in my seat to face her. “I’ve been thinking about something you said yesterday. You mentioned your surgery isn’t scheduled for two weeks—was there a reason they needed to wait?”
She yawns before answering. “No, there’s not a medical reason. I have a summer festival I’m headlining this weekend in Texas.”
“The Summer Stampede Festival?”
“Yeah, how did you know?”
I shrug, feigning nonchalance. “You’ve performed there for the past six summers.”
There’s a slight frown on her face now, but she slowly nods her head. “I guess it has been that long. Wait, how’d you know that?”
I roll my lips together as I mull over whether or not I want to disclose my secret to her. “I was in Texas six years ago for Carson’s wedding, and I may or may not have watched you open for Mason Corbin.”
Her eyes widen in shock. “What? Jax, that was my first big show. It was when I sang—”
She starts and cuts herself off when she realizes what she was about to tell me, but she doesn’t need to continue for me to know what she was going to say.
That was the first time she sang her debut single “Martyred.” I’m not sure she realized then that it would become a hit that shot her into stardom.
Taevin had already signed a three-album deal with Tambourine Records, but that single was what started her on the path to becoming a household name.
“Back to my original question—why are you delaying surgery?”
“I can’t just back out of my commitments, Jackson. My fans are counting on me to perform.”
She sure didn’t have a problem backing out of her commitment to our marriage the moment she thought she had a better opportunity.
Instead of saying that, I swallow past the bitter taste of resentment threatening to surface.
“I believe you once told me sometimes you have to put yourself first, or am I remembering that wrong? It’s been so long since the night you left. ”
“Jax—”
“It’s fine, Tae. I just think if there were ever a time to put yourself first, it’d be when you’re about to endure the fight for your life.”
“My gynecologist in Nashville assured me a week or two would be okay.”
“But it’s not just a week; it’ll be almost three between when you were diagnosed and your surgery.”
She places her hand on my forearm, and the moment her skin touches mine, goosebumps ripple up and down my arm. When she realizes what she’s doing, she pulls away far too quickly for my liking.
Sighing, she says, “I’ve made my decision regarding the festival, J. You said you’d respect my choices in this.”
Closing my eyes to hide my frustration, I reply, “Fine. You’re right, it’s ultimately up to you. But I’m coming with you. I don’t like the thought of you performing a full set after what happened yesterday at Bennett’s wedding.”
I don’t point out the fact that yesterday was only one song, not a full set list, because she knows as well as I do the difference the festival in the summer heat will be and the toll it will take on her body.
“If you insist,” she replies, rolling her eyes.
“I do,” I answer curtly, narrowing my eyes at her snark.
Now it’s Tae’s turn to shift in her seat to face me.
“Perhaps I should put you to work if you’re coming along.
Wanna be my water boy? Hmm, no, maybe you should be my bodyguard since you’ve taken it upon yourself to dismiss Braidy while you’re with me.
Or, no! You can grab your Gibson when we’re in Minnesota and you can bring it to Texas. When’s the last time you played, J?”
Shaking my head, I don’t answer her and look ahead at the seat in front of me instead.
“Come on, don’t go quiet on me now. You got to ask your questions, don’t I get to ask mine?” she pushes.
“It’s been a while since I’ve played,” I answer her without elaborating, which only further spurs her on.
“A few days? A week? Wait, why didn’t you perform the first dance song at Bennett’s wedding? Why did I?”
She huffs in annoyance when I don’t respond.
Rolling my eyes at her insistence, I tell her, “He asked, and I turned him down. I haven’t performed since around Griffin and McKenna’s wedding.”
“Oh my goodness, I didn’t realize they got married. They were so cute together the summer they started dating,” Tae gushes before asking, “When did they get married?”
Clearing my throat, I mutter, “Seven years ago.”
Tae’s eyes widen with shock, and it’d be comical if the truth weren’t so pathetic. “I’m sorry, I think I misheard you. Seven months ago?”
I shake my head once. “Years.”
She smacks my arm. “Jackson Charles Wilson! Why on earth haven’t you performed in seven years?”
“Can we just drop it?”
“No! Tell me right this instant.”
“Because of you!” I whisper-hiss.
She shrinks back. “Me?”
“Yes. Because every time I strum a chord, or sing a line, I think of you and everything I’ll never have because you left and didn’t choose me.”
Tears well in her eyes, and I’m immediately filled with regret.
Regret for losing my composure and regret for losing her all those years ago.
I don’t know how to be with her now. I don’t know how to hide my resentment and frustration with her for leaving me behind for greener pastures.
My life has been nothing but depressing, muted grays since she left it.
There are few things that pull me from the abyss I’ve spiraled into over the past decade.
When we land and I take my phone off airplane mode, it begins buzzing incessantly with incoming texts.
I take a deep breath and open the thread with my sister first.
Walker:
Is Tae okay, J?
Walker:
I’m thinking of you both. Please let me know if you need anything!
Walker:
Also, don’t think just because you had to leave that you’re going to get out of talking about this!
Rolling my eyes at her antics, I close out of her thread without replying and open the message from my mom.
Mama:
I love you, sweetheart. Please let me know when you land safely. Take care of our girl! Xx
My mom’s message makes me smile. She always did love Taevin like she was her own.
I’m sure I’ll have a lot of answering to do with her about how her baby boy was married for nearly a decade without her knowing.
Mom is the only one I told everything to before I left Paris, with Tae’s permission of course.
I send her a quick reply that we landed before exiting my thread with her.
My stomach sinks when I see my father texted me.
Senator Satan:
My office when you get back to Minnesota.
He’s a delusional prick if he thinks I’m going anywhere near his home office. I’ve managed to keep out of there for the past seven years, and I intend to keep it that way. There’s a fucking reason he wasn’t allowed to come to my brother’s wedding after all.
Just then, my phone buzzes with one final text from my brother.
Benny:
You’re fucking welcome. Don’t let her go this time, J.
I grit my teeth at his assumption. I never let Taevin go—not ten years ago, and I’m sure as hell not about to now.
When I made the offer to give her a divorce after her treatment, I did so knowing there’s not a chance in hell I’m going to let her go without a fight. While she’s battling for her life, I’m going to do the same for our future together.
Tae will always be the love of my life, and I refuse to let her be the loss of it.