Page 15 of The Song We Lost

In the present, Luke rolls toward meandkisses my shoulder absentmindedly. “You were great tonight.”

I turn toward him. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he says too fast. “Just tired.”

I nod.

At the planning meeting for week three, Rachel corners me with her tablet.

“They want to add six more dates at the end of the tour,” she says. “Big ones. If you say yes, we need to move fast, because we would also be adding extra dates to eight sold-out cities.”

I hesitate, glance down the hall toward my green room.

“Give me a minute.”

I open the door and almost walk into Luke, bags packed and in his hands. My stomach drops.

“I’ll be back,” he says before I can speak. “I need to go. Just a few days. This is...” He stops himself, smiles like he knows how it sounds. “This istheopportunity, Sunshine. This is it. What I have been working so hard for.”

It’s alwaysit.

“You said you’d stay a month,” I say quietly.

“I know.” He sighs, scrubs a hand through his hair. “Plans changed and I can't pass this up, Bailey. This means too much for my career.”

And what do I mean to you?

I want to scream, beg, cry... do something. But I don't think that would change anything.

So, I don’t fight him, I don’t beg. I just nod, because I know how this goes.

He kisses me goodbye like it’s a promise. Like it’s temporary. Like he isn't breaking another promise. After the door closes, I stand there for a long time, staring at nothing. Then I pull out my phone.

Book the dates,I text Rachel.If they want them, take them.

The reply comes almost immediately.Got it.

I sit on the edge of the couch, hands folded in my lap. He was here for me for barely two weeks… and the first opportunity he was gone and I was left all alone.

Again.

chapter 6

bailey

. . .

The tour had taken on a life of its own. Venues are selling out faster than projected. Cities that were meant to be one-night stops are asking for second dates. The buzz feels different this time, not just hype, but momentum. Like people are finally hearing me the way I’ve always wanted them to. It should feel like winning. Instead, it feels like standing on top of a moving train, trying not to lose my balance.

I sit with my team in a quiet conference room off the venue, tea gone cold in front of me, my fingers drumming against the table while Rachel flips through schedules and numbers.

“This tour has grown so much, we need to lock an opening act,” she says. “If we’re adding dates, we can’t wait much longer. What we had planned isn’t going to cut it anymore.”

“I know,” I say. “Just... don’t offer it to anyone yet.”

Rachel looks up, a look on her face that I don't want to see. “Bailey...”

“Please,” I say softly. “Just give me a day.”