Page 18 of The Song We Lost

bailey

. . .

Things have been strained since the last time we were in the same room. Since he turned down opening for the tour. Luke texts constantly now. Long messages. Apologies wrapped in explanations. Promises stacked on top of promises. Every morning starts withGood morning, Sunshine, I love you, and every night ends withI miss you. He sends flowers to shows he can’t make it to, big arrangements that draw attention, cards written in his familiar scrawl.

The kind of gestures that look good from the outside, but they don’t fix what's wrong between us.

The tour has settled into a rhythm now, I live out of bags and a planner, measuring my life in set lists and sound checks. The shows are incredible. The crowds are growing. The dates keep stacking up.

Rachel keeps a running countdown on her tablet. “Three weeks until you’re home,” she reminds me one afternoon. “Two and a half, technically.”

Home.

Not Nashville. Hawthorne Ridge.

I video call Sadie whenever I can, usually from quiet corners of venues or hotel rooms just before I crash. She answers tonight already grinning, phone propped up as she spins slowly in front of the mirror.

“What do you think?” she asks.

She’s holding up her wedding dress, soft fabric, simple lines, exactly her. She looks radiant, so happy it makes my chest ache.

“Oh my God,” I breathe. “Sadie. You’re beautiful.”

She laughs. “You have to say that. You’re my sister.”

“I’m serious,” I say. “Cole’s not going to survive this.”

She snorts, then softens. “I wish you were here.”

Guilt hits me immediately. “I know. I’m sorry. I hate that I can’t help more. I feel like I’m missing everything.”

“You’re not,” she says firmly. “You’re doing what you have to do. We’ll have you back soon.”

“When?” I ask quietly. Because the logical part of me knows, but I need her right now. I need her to anchor me to the reason I am doing all of this.

She glances at the calendar taped beside her mirror. “Two weeks before the wedding. Plenty of time. We’ll put you to work.”

I smile, blinking fast. “I can’t wait.”

After we hang up, I sit on the edge of the bed for a long time, phone still warm in my hand. Sadie has always beenmywhy. The reason I kept going when things got hard. The reason I still believe in the dream we talked about around that campfire all those years ago.

Our parents died when we were young. Sadie had just turned eighteen when the world cracked open and dropped everything in her lap. Overnight, she went from sister to guardian, from kid to adult, fighting paperwork and grief at the same time. With the Carters’ help, rides to school, groceries left on the porch, support when pride wouldn’t let us ask, she managed to keep me.

We stayed in our parents’ trailer, patched together with duct tape and memories, until I left for Nashville. Sadie lingered a little longer before moving in with Cole.

Home was never a place for us, it was a person, and for most of my life, that person was her.

I flop backwards on the hotel bed, and a memory slips in.

Luke and I were lying on the hood of his truck back home, stars scattered above us like spilled light. His arm around my shoulders, his voice low as he promised me we’d never lose each other to the noise. That music would always be a way to bring us back home. I was so nervous about leaving our families, about chasing a dream that had no guarantee.

"Nothing will ever be more important than you", he’d said. "You are my home, Bailey, as long as we are together, that is all that will matter."

I hold onto that memory like a lifeline. That’s when I decided to try again.

Luke texts while I’m scrolling festival schedules.

Luke