Page 22 of The Song We Lost

“For you,” she’d said. “Because I don’t want anything to come between us.”

I’d thanked her as if it meant everything and promised her nothing would ever matter more than us.

Now I am in a hotel room alone, while she is on a tour bus, bound for her next sold-out city. I think I broke something in us that I can't fix. But I cannot walk away from this. This is my chance. I close my eyes because all I can see is Bailey standing next to Noah, her big golden brown eyes red-rimmed and tears streaming down her face.

I don't know what I am doing anymore.

I sit up and down a mouthful of Jack. I need to make this worth it; I need her to see that everything I have done up until now was worth it. That we can come back from this.

chapter 9

bailey

. . .

Idon’t tell anyone outside of my family and Rachel that I’m coming home. No posts or vague hints dropped for fans to speculate over. I book the flight under one of my travel names, wear my hair tucked up and a hat low over my eyes, and even wear sunglasses inside the terminal. I’ve always been private, but when it comes to my family, privacy isn’t just a preference; it’s protection.

The flight is short, but I spend it staring out the window anyway, watching the world change beneath me. Cities give way to fields. Concrete softens into green. My chest loosens with every mile. Summit City’s airport feels bigger than I remember. I keep my head low, but a 'home of' banner catches my attention, a picture of me alongside a hockey player who seems vaguely familiar is blown out wide on a banner over the arrivals door. I tug at my hat and make sure no one is watching me while I continue towards my destination. I spot them before I even reach baggage claim. Sadie is bouncing on her toes, practically vibrating, scanning every face like she might miss me if she blinks. Sometimes I forget how much we look alike. Her honey-blonde hair is shorter, just below her shoulders, her brown eyes a touch darker, closer to chocolate. But we share the same nose and mouth. Cole stands beside her, calm and solid, one hand resting on the small of her back like an anchor.

The second Sadie sees me, she lets out a sound somewhere between a laugh and a sob. “Bailey!”

She barrels into me before I can even drop my bag, arms wrapping tight around my neck. I breathe her in, laundry soap, citrus, mint and home... and for a second, everything else falls away.I am home.

“You’re really here,” she says into my shoulder.

“Just for a bit,” I answered softly. "I wish it could be longer, I... have to finish my tour."

“That’s fine,” she says immediately. “I’ll take any time I get with you.”

Cole takes my suitcase without asking, gives me a quick, warm, grounding hug, then leads us out to the truck. The drive stretches quietly and I roll the window down despite the early summer chill, letting the air hit my face, smelling earth and grass and something faintly floral. I take off the hat, the glasses and let my hair loose. Let the feeling of being home surround me while I listen to Cole and Sadie chat about last-minute wedding details.

We turn off the highway, then again onto a dirt road, climbing through the western mountains. And then the land opens up, and I stop breathing. The property stretches farther than I imagined, even with all the photos they’d sent. Fields and wooded areas come first, then the orchard rows march neatly across rolling ground, young trees already leafed out beside older ones, wildflowers stubbornly blooming between them. Bee boxes dot the edges just like they said. The barns stand tall and proud, restored but not polished, their weathered wood holding history instead of hiding it.

“Oh my God,” I whisper.

Sadie grins. “Pictures didn’t do it justice, did they?”

They really didn’t.

Rose is waiting near thefinishedhouse, pacing like she’s trying to burn off nerves. The moment she sees me, she breaks. Tears spill freely as she rushes forward and pulls me into her arms.

“Oh, Bailey,” she cries. “You did it. You really did it. You gave us our dream.”

I shake my head, overwhelmed. “This was always the plan.”

She pulls away and then cups my cheeks into her palms. I have to choke back a sob because Luke has her eyes. They are such a dark blue that they seem almost black or maybe a dark brown. Looking into her eyes right now is painful, but also a good reminder of why I work as hard as I do. Why I won't stop... no matter what... until I have what we need for our families to be safe and comfortable at home.

Thomas stands just behind her, hands tucked into his jacket pockets, eyes shining. He nods once, like he doesn’t trust his voice to hold. He looks good, happy. He seems to be carrying a lighter load than the last time I saw him in person. He reminds me so much of Noah, the quiet calm to Rose and Luke's intensity and passion. He is the reason behind the boy's dark hair, but only Noah has his hazel eyes.

They walk me through everything slowly and carefully, as if they know how much I need this.

Everything has progressed further than what they had shared with me. They wanted it to be a surprise. And god did I need this kind of surprise... to know that I am closer to coming home than I planned.

Rose and Thomas’s house is completely finished. It reminds me so much of the small home where they raised Luke and Noah. Warm wood floors, sunlight spilling through wide windows, furniture already lived in, a cooktop wood stove as the centre of the big family-style kitchen. Sadie and Cole’s place is almost done, drywall up, floors laid, just waiting on final touches.

“I want to walk you through it later,” Sadie says, squeezing my hand. “Show you everything.”

The biggest barn stands at the centre of the property's commercial side, its doors thrown open wide. Inside, light pours across aged floors, beams arcing overhead, with twinkle lights tangled throughout.