It doesn’t take us long to find the room, and it’s much nicer than I expected—warm wood tones, crisp sheets, a small city view that makes Nashville’s skyline look almost peaceful.
Orion drops his bag by the door and whistles low.
“Man, look at this singular king-sized bed. One of us could starfish on it.”
“If you even think about getting in bed with me, I will suffocate you with a pillow and not feel an ounce of remorse.”
“Kinky.” He breaks out into loud, unrepentant laughter as I level him with a glare.
Sass hops down from my shoulders and trots over to the bed with surprising grace for a three-legged cat. He sniffs the comforter before flopping down dead center like he just paid for the room himself.
“I guess we know who’s getting the bed,” Orion says, as if he hadn’t already claimed the sleeper-sofa. He mutters something about a shower and disappears into the bathroom, door clicking shut behind him.
The hum of the city seeps in through the window, carrying horns, laughter, and music from a nearby bar. It’s beautiful, in the way big cities are when you’re just passing through. Alive and impersonal.
Tomorrow, Umbra plays.
Tomorrow, she’ll be here.
Celeste.
Her name rolls silently in my head like it’s a live wire. The thought of seeing her again twists in my chest, something sharp and stupid. I tell myself it won’t happen—that she’ll be backstage, that the odds of crossing paths in a sold-out stadium are slim. If I’m honest with myself, I don’t technically know what she does for Umbra, just that she works closely with them.
The pathetic and hopeful part of me knows I might not catch a glimpse of her.
But she’s the reason I said yes.
The possibility of seeing her again sets my skin on fire.
I can lie to Orion all day, but I can’t lie to myself.
I lean back on my hands, staring at the ceiling. “I don’t know if I’m ready,” I whisper under my breath.
Sass meows softly, hopping up beside me, and presses his head against my ribs.
“I know,” I murmur, rubbing his side. “But he doesn’t know about Celeste and me, and he is just trying to get me out of the house.”
He purrs harder. That’s his answer for everything. Maybe he’s right. Maybe healing isn’t about being ready. Maybe it’s just about showing up.
Still, the mirror across the room catches my reflection. I look like a man held together with scar tissue and stubbornness with my broad shoulders, tired eyes, and the faint line of the prosthetic under my sweats.
I’m not exactly the picture of someone who deserves her. She saw me at my best when I was confident and whole.
What happens when she seesthisversion?
Orion walks back in the room and pulls out the sleeper sofa. After Orion turns the lights out, he breaks the silence. “You’re thinking too loud again.”
I glance over where he should be on the sofa, and I picture him with his hands behind his head, eyes closed. “You can’t even see me.”
“I don’t need to. I can literally hear the wheels turning in your brain.”
“Go to sleep, Orion.”
“Bitch, I am sleeping. You go to sleep.”
I shake my head, pulling the blankets up. Sass immediately curls against my chest, purring like a tiny heartbeat. The warmth seeps in slowly, the noise in my head dulling just enough to breathe.
Tomorrow is a battlefield I’m not ready for.
