“Are you?”
I look at my friend, my assistant manager who’s watched me build walls for three years. “Maybe.”
“The Rex Lawson thing?”
“You know about that?”
“Darian told me when he came by yesterday. Looked like someone killed his dog.” She starts setting up for evening service. “You really told him to take it?”
“It’s an amazing opportunity.”
“It’s a job in LA that takes him away from everything he’s building here.”
“His career?—”
“Rye.” Jovie stops, looks at me directly. “When are you going to stop deciding what’s best for everyone else and let them choose for themselves?”
“I’m not?—”
“You are. You do it with every musician who comes through here, protecting them from their own bad decisions. And now you’re doing it with Darian, pushing him away because you think it’s what’s best for him.”
“What if it is?”
“Then let him figure that out. But stop making the choice for him.”
My phone buzzes. A text from Lily:Is Darian still coming for my guitar lesson tomorrow?
I stare at the message, realizing I don’t know the answer. That I’ve been so focused on protecting us from future hurt that I haven’t thought about the immediate consequence. Mydaughter, looking forward to her lesson, not understanding why the person teaching her might disappear.
I’ll find out, I text back.
“I need to go,” I tell Jovie.
“Go where?”
“To stop being an idiot.”
She smiles. “About time.”
I grab my keys and head for the door, then stop. “If I’m not back by opening?—”
“I’ve got it. Go.”
Outside, Nashville’s afternoon heat wraps around me like a warning. But I’m already moving, already heading toward Darian’s apartment, not sure what I’ll say when I get there but knowing that Zara’s right about one thing.
I’ve been so busy pushing him away that I haven’t given him a chance to choose to stay.
The drive takes fifteen minutes that feel like hours. I park outside his building, see his car in its usual spot. He’s home. Now I just have to figure out what to say.
My phone rings. It’s him.
“Rye?”
“Yeah.”
“My sister just called. Said she ambushed you at the venue. I’m sorry, I didn’t ask her to?—”
“I’m outside your building.”
