“You’re here,” Easton says, his voice hoarse. He takes a step toward me, reaches out his hand, and I put my hand in his. Our fingers intertwine.
“Yes,” I say. “I’m here.”
“Why?” He pulls me toward him, resting his forehead against mine. His breath brushes my skin, and I close my eyes.
“Because this is where I belong. I want to come home,” I say, and I know he knows what I mean.
He’s my home.
He always has been. Ever since I first heard him sing “Mockingbird.” Ever since I first wrote to him, and he wrote back to me.
Part 10Outro
Epilogue
Rayne
“Ready?” Easton asks, giving me an encouraging smile. We’re standing in the driveway of my parents’ villa. I haven’t been here since last summer, but it’s still my home. I nod, but I can’t speak as I cling to his hand. No, I’m not ready, not even a little. We’ve been living downtown for the last five weeks, in a hotel directly across from the studio where We Are No Saints recorded their first album.
It turned out great. Easton and I spent every night writing songs. We were obsessed, and it was a dream that none of us wanted to wake up from. My head was so full I could have written a thousand songs. It was like a wall came down in my mind, and finally all the words that had been waiting so long for me to write them came pouring out.
We hardly slept and I don’t know how we survived. The adrenaline probably helped. Every time we finished a new song, the guys would go into the studio the next day to record it. In the end, we ended up with far too many songs for one album. Not all of them fit into the story we wanted to tell, so we had to make some cuts, but we still love every single one.
Now the album is finished, and it’s time to take a little break before the guys go on their first tour.
Time to come home.
My heart is beating way too fast as we walk to the front door. The yard still looks exactly the same, except Dad’s car isn’t in the driveway. It’s in the garage, even though he never parked it there.
I take a deep breath and put the key in the front door. It swings open, and we step inside. I can feel tears coming. Everything is the same as always and yet completely different.
The furniture is still in its place: the sofa, the dining table and chairs, Dad’s grand piano. Mom’s bookshelves. Everything else is gone. The jackets that always hung on the coatrack, Mom’s handbags, the shoes. It’s all gone, of course. Grandma paid people to clear out the house when I moved to Boston. Mom and Dad’s things are stored in a storage facility in town. Grandma wanted to donate them, but I refused. Eventually, I’ll figure out what to do with all the boxes, but not right now.
“It’s nice here,” Easton says as we walk into the living room. We step up to the large window that looks directly out at the sea.
“Yes.” I sigh softly and feel calmer as I look outside.
“Are you okay?”
“Yes,” I say, smiling. “I’m really fine.”
“And it’s really okay if we all live here?” he asks, a little uncertain.
“I wouldn’t have offered if it wasn’t. It’ll be nice for the house to be full again. Besides, you guys belong together. I can’t just let you move in here without them.”
“You could.” He pulls me close, grinning. “But Beck can cook.”
“Right. And we can’t cook at all, so we need him. Plus, we’re closer to the airport and have more of a straight shot to the highways from here, so it’ll be easier for Colin to see Emma moreoften.” I wrap both arms around his waist and look up at him. “I’m so glad you’re all going to live here.”
His answer is a kiss, tender and gentle. “Are you glad to be here too?” he asks.
“Yes,” I say, and I mean it. “It was the right decision.”
I chose music over ballet. It was a dream I didn’t allow myself to dream for far too long.
But now I’m here, and the dream has come true. And I’m not alone, because Mom and Dad are always with me. Easton and the guys are with me. And I also have Zoe and Mae. We may live in different cities now, but I know they’ll always be there for me. They’re all the family I never expected to have but found at exactly the right moment.
Easton
