Because it’s real, even if not everything is fixed just yet. And maybe—for the first time—it’s enough.
We sit in that moment for a while, the quiet hum of cicadas rising around us like a soundtrack we didn’t plan for. His hand finds mine somewhere in the middle of all that stillness, and I don’t pull away.
“So what now?” I ask finally, our fingers laced.
He looks out at the chalk on the sidewalk. “Now, I stay. For as long as you’ll have me. I told the recording company I wouldn’t be able to make it to the studio for a while. Or, at least, Henry is supposed to be telling them that today. I haven’t heard from him. Maybe I’ll figure out a way to turn one of the barns here into a recording studio. Or I’ll quit and just spend my days taking you out to dinner. Or onrealdates. Help out with the laundry and grocery store runs. All the boring stuff. Except it won’t be boring because it will be with you.”
I snort. “Right. You’re just going to give it all up.”
He runs his hand down the back of his neck, giving me a tight smile. “I mean, I’d rather have it all. I’d rather figure out a way to make it work with both you and my music, but the label isn’t going to like me pushing back the recording again, and I’m not willing to leave you behind.”
“You still don’t get it, do you?” I ask.
“What do you mean?”
“You could ask me to come.”
“What?”
“I’ve never wanted you to give up your dreams or your career for me. I just want to be there with you, cheering from the front row. But you’ve never asked. Not when you went to Nashville the first time, not when your career took off, and not now when you’re considering becoming a stay-at-home boyfriend in Wild Bluffs instead of the more obvious answer—asking me to come with you.”
He runs a hand through his hair, the gesture so familiar it wraps around my heart like a warm embrace. “So what if I asked you to come with me to Nashville? To record? We could figure it out together. I can bring you back here as much as you need to see your family and friends, as much as you need to for work.”
His words sink in, each syllable landing like a stone thrown into a still pond, ripples expanding until they reach the edges of everything I’ve built here. The possibility coils tight in my chest, equal parts thrilling and terrifying. It’s everything I thought I wanted, but now, faced with the decision to leave, it feels bigger.
“Jaxon,” I start, but he interrupts me, eyes fierce and earnest.
“I mean it, Iz. The days we spent apart this week proved just how hopelessly in love with you I am. I’ve known it for a while now, but when I wasn’t with you, everything felt dimmer, like someone turned off half the lights, and all I could do was keep moving forward despite the lack of colors. I want you in my life. I need you by my side. My career will likely require I spend a good portion of time in Nashville, but I already travel a lot. And you could come with me. Please come with me?”
He leans closer, our foreheads nearly touching, and I can feel the weight of his hope pressing against my skin like a prayer he’s too scared to say out loud.
“I love you, Isabel,” he repeats, voice barely above a whisper.
“I love you too,” I confess on a breath. My chest tightens. “But…what if it doesn’t work? What if you realize you’ve only known this version of me for six weeks, and it’s not actually what you want?”
“Then I’ll fight like hell to make it work,” he says. “But I know exactly who you are, Izzy. And I love every single part of you.”
I close my eyes. Try to ground myself. “What happens when you get your next big break? When your label demands another tour, or an album on a deadline? Are you going to ask me to stay behind again?”
He shakes his head quickly. “No. Never again. If you’ll come—I want you there. I’ll ask you every time.” His hand finds mine. “Please come with me. Wherever our dreams take us.”
I stare at our joined hands, focused on the promise in his words, the possibility he’s putting forward of us out there, chasing our wild, together.
My heart thuds, each beat a question. But my body already knows the answer.
I look up at him—hopeful, terrified, completely undone.
“Okay,” I whisper, meaning it.
His smile bursts forth like sunlight breaking through clouds. And in that moment, I believe him. I believe that we can weave our lives together.
“Good. Because I’m not letting you go this time.”
Without warning, he scoops me up into his arms, laughter bubbling from my lips as he carries me into the house. The world around us blurs, the memories of old intertwining with the new ones being forged in this moment.
As he kicks the door open, I’m still giggling, caught in an exhilarating whirlwind of emotions. He sets me down just inside, and the laughter fades when he leans in, capturing my mouth with his.
The kiss is electric, igniting every nerve ending I possess. I melt into him, feeling the heat radiate from his body, the way his hands settle at my waist, grounding me even as I float.
