Page 112 of The Song We Lost

He smiles. It’s a big genuine, warm smile that makes his eyes crinkle and his dimples pop.

And then he pulls me into a hug. My brain glitches for a second. Have we ever hugged?

On the tour bus we leaned over guitars.

Shared headphones.

Brushed shoulders in tight spaces.

But this…

This is different.

He bends slightly so his voice stays low near my ear.

“No one should expect you to leave right now, Bailey.” My chest tightens, as he continues, “This is where you need to be.”

I swallow.

“The studio’s being the studio,” he continues quietly. “So I came to you.”

I pull back slightly, searching his face.

“The rest of the crew will follow in a few days. Rachel too.” My brain stalls again, and he seems to understand, because he adds, “We record it here.”

I blink.

“Here?”

“Noah’s been coordinating everything.” Jackson replies with a smile.

I look toward my brother-in-law, who suddenly looks very pleased with himself.

Jackson squeezes my shoulder gently, adding, “We’ve got you, Bailey.”

My vision blurs.

“Really?” I whisper.

A tear escapes before I can stop it.

Jackson nods.

“Yeah,” he says softly. “Really.”

Then he grins slightly.

“There’s no place I’d rather be, Bailey girl.”

My eyes snap shut for a second. So many feelings crash together inside me I can’t separate them.

Relief.

Grief.

Gratitude.

Exhaustion.