“They weren’t supposed to be back until tomorrow,” I hissed as I tossed the blanket off of us and shoved him to his feet. “You have to go. Now!” Over the last few months, my grandparents freely offered their rancid opinions about George, blaming her for their son’s fall from grace. The last thing I needed was for them to find me with her son on their couch.
“I can’t just walk past them,” he said, matching my hushed tone.
I searched the room for a possible exit. “The window.”
It was ancient and heavy, and it took both of us to force it open a sliver. My hand slipped as it lurched up another inch.
Wes let out a grunt of pain when my elbow caught him just below his eye. “I’m fine. We’ve almost got it.”
Voices approached the living room, growing louder by the second. “What an awful party. Victoria’s let herself go since the divorce,” Ivy complained.
“A pity,” Nolan replied, his voice flat and disinterested. “Is that the new gardener’s car out front? I thought he wasn’t starting until next week.”
“If it is, you need to have a word with him about parking with the rest of the staff.”
I shoved Wes’s bag out the window just as the door creaked. “Go!” I pushed at his shoulder as he ducked down to fit himself in the gap.
“Avery, are you in here?” Ivy said, stepping into the room. Her eyes turned to saucers as she spotted us.
Wes paused, but I gave him a pleading look and another shove. “I’ll be fine. Staying will only make it worse.”
He slipped the rest of the way out. I watched as he darted across the snow covered lawn to his car.
“Who was that?” At Ivy’s shrill demand, I turned to face my grandparents.
“Oh, you’re home early. How was your trip?” I said innocently. The December air gusted in through the window, sending a whirling flurry of flakes onto the plush rug at my feet.
“Answer my question.”
“A friend. I didn’t realize I wasn’t allowed to invite anyone over.”
“A boy.” She turned to her husband. “She invited a boy over for the night. Just like her father, not thinking about the consequences of her actions. For all we know, we’ll have another child to take care of in nine months.”
“Don’t talk about Dad like that,” I snapped. “Not when we were better off without you.”
Ivy pulled her hand back and swung. I was dizzy for a moment, eyes going out of focus, and then I jerked back, almost falling. My cheek stung where she’d slapped it. When my vision cleared, Ivy was before me, her face pruned with disgust.
“If it weren’t for our family’s money, the two of you wouldn’t have been so comfortable gallivanting around.” She straightened her plum silk blouse. “Now, close that window.”
After that day, I decided that my grandparents weren’t going to win. I wasn’t theirs to command or control.
I was a fighter.
More than anything else, I was my father’s daughter, and I was going to honor the last thing he did for me. To continue to pursue a life with music and Wes.
20
Avery
October 2025
For the first time since I agreed to this tour, being around Wes feels like a choice. Not an obligation. Something I’m excited to wake up and continue showing up for in the morning.
But I don’t even have to wait until the next morning to hear from him again. After I shower and change, I curl up outside to watch the sunset, and my phone starts ringing.
“Hello?” I ask tentatively.
“Um, hi. Is it okay to call? If not, I can hang up right now and we can pretend I didn’t,” Wes says, and I picture him staring at the contact in my phone for thirty minutes before pressing it and praying for the best.
