I ran a hand over my face, jaw tight. “Okay.”
She started to step back. “I’ll go home.”
“I’ll take you,” I said, moving closer.
“Sawyer…no.” Her eyes flashed, and she shook her head, but her hands lingered near mine, as if she couldn’t quite pull away.
“Fine.” I moved on instinct, reaching for the last thing I had that connected me to her. I grabbed the journal and held it out.
“Here. Take this with you.”
She hesitated. “I…I can’t.”
“Yes, you can.” My voice was steadier than I felt. “And you will.”
She took it without another word. Then, she walked out, and, like I knew she would, she took a piece of my heart in her pocket.
FORTY-FOUR
Ellie
I spentthe next two weeks unapologetically wallowing in self-pity. As I sat in my top-of-the-line hotel suite in New York City, I let myself go through all the emotions.
When I wasn’t traveling or performing, it wasn’t the productive kind of wallowing either. Every free moment, I spent with no makeup, no pants on. I didn’t half-ass my wallowing. I let myself spiral the way I only ever allowed approximately once a year, and it was overdue.
Between cities, I spent my nights watching true crime docs back-to-back and ordering every form of carbs and cheese DoorDash had to offer. I turned off my phone, ignored everyone’s texts. I knew Rachel and my parents meant well, but I didn’t want comfort, advice, or someone reminding me I was supposed to be fine.
I wanted to sit in my feelings, with the ache in my chest I couldn’t explain.
I’d built this life piece by piece, spent my childhood shaping it into something that looked like success. I gave up so much to get here, even when it made me feel small—even when it never quite felt like mine. And now, I stood at the edge of somethingreal for probably the first time in my life, something I hadn’t let myself want in years, and I didn’t know if I was supposed to jump or walk away.
The rational part of me knew the truth. I didn’t have to choose one or the other. I could keep going, keep building, with him beside me. But that kind of love, the kind Sawyer offered, wasn’t something you could half-choose.
And a part of me wanted to jump, even if I didn’t know where I’d land. Whether it was San Francisco or Woodstone didn’t matter half as much as who would be waiting on the other side.
But I wasn’t sure I was brave enough.
I stared at the ceiling long enough to memorize every dip and curve of the plaster. The life I’d built was pressing in from all sides, and I was shrinking under the weight of it.
The notebook came out almost without thought; it was the only thing that made sense when everything threatened to pull me under. I sank to the floor, my knees drawn up, and let the pencil move across the page.
Sawyer saw through the walls I had built so carefully, through all the parts of me I tried to keep hidden, even from myself, and it terrified me to want something that may never fit inside the life I had always believed I was meant to live. And yet, maybe that life was already behind me, fading into something I no longer recognized.
The words poured out before I could stop them, before I could question or weigh them. For the first time in a long time, I let them. Everything I had held back spilled onto the page until there was nothing left but the truth.
The stage lights dimmed, and a ripple of anticipation swept through the crowd. My heart raced as I crossed the stage. One of the backup dancers handed me my guitar, and I slung the strap over my shoulder.
I stepped up to the mic and drew in a slow breath.
“So…I’m doing something a little different tonight.”
A wave of cheers, loud and eager, filtered through the crowd. I smiled softly, not quite ready to meet their energy.
“I’ve been writing a lot recently,” I said, my voice echoing through the arena, “but not necessarily for an album. Not even for anyone to hear, really. It started off as lines I didn’t know what to do with. Thoughts. Pieces of things I couldn’t say aloud.”
The crowd quieted again, their stillness stretching out in support. I exhaled.
“This one wasn’t planned. It’s raw and unfiltered and probably not perfect, but it feels honest. And after some thought, I think it deserves its moment.”
