Epilogue
Olive
6 Months Later
"Coming!” I call out, towel-wringing my hair as I head for the front door.
I’m already running late for the grand opening of the newly renovated basketball stadium in Grandewood Creek. And as the wife of the new head coach, I kind of have to be there.
Avery’s been at the gym with Ryder and Orlando for hours, and I’ve had nothing but time to get ready.
Instead? I ended up on the couch, guitar in my lap, notebook and pen by my side.
Ever since we got back from Portugal, there’s been this itch I couldn’t ignore.
So I reached out to Akira.
We got talking.
And the next thing I knew, I was sending her songs I’d written with her in mind.
I told her she could have full creative control. That I’d be happy staying behind the scenes as a ghostwriter.
But she insisted I get the credit I deserve.
Tonight’s the launch party for her album in New York.
I would’ve loved to be there to support her, but I wanted to be here, with Avery.
"Hi—who’re you?” I ask, breathless.
Apparently, the walk from our bathroom to the front door is longer than necessary.
I didn’t realize how unfit I was until just now.
Avery insisted on buying the biggest house in Grangewood Creek because, "you never know.” While I had no idea what the hell he meant, I somehow knew he was right.
"I’m here from Grangewood Garden,” the young man says with a smile, handing me a bouquet of tulips. "These are for you.”
I take the flowers, brows furrowed as I spot a note taped to the vase.
"Thank you,” I murmur, closing the door behind me.
Congratulations on the album launch.
Sorry you couldn’t be in NYC to celebrate its release.
I’m so incredibly proud of you.
I can’t wait to see you later, Mrs. Jones.
Love, Avery.
I press the note to my chest, my heartbeat picking up with every breath until my phone buzzes on the counter.
Shit. I need to leave.
I’m so late.
