Page 23 of The Song We Lost

“This is where the wedding will be,” Sadie says softly.

Tears spill before I can stop them. Sadie is right in front of me, "Bailey..."

“I’m just...” I laugh through the sobs, trying my hardest to hide my pain, wiping my face quickly. “I’m so happy. It’s all coming together. I am so happy to be home.”

No one questions me, no one pushes, they just let me have that moment. Later, I wander the property alone. Boots crunch over gravel and grass, the wind tugging gently at my sweater. I trail my fingers along a fence post, past stacks of lumber, past trees still wrapped for protection.

The sun dips behind the trees, painting everything in a warm light. Memories rise whether I want them to or not. They flood me as I grip the wooden post of the fence line.

Luke laughing by a campfire, beer in hand, while Noah taught Cole how to play guitar.

The first time I played on a piano that was mine was because of the Carters. Thomas knew one of the janitors at a high school in Summit City, and they were replacing all the instruments. They drove to the city, picked up the old piano, got rid of one of their couches so there would be space, and just like that, I had a piano. I spent endless hours on it, and they never once complained.

Sadie lying snuggled with me in her bed on my last trip home. I was so burnt out that she tried her hardest to convince me Icould come home and sell my songs. That I didn't need to keep performing if I didn't want to. I promised her I would walk away if it got to be too much.

The thought sits heavily because I lied. I never intended to walk away until I accomplished what I set out to do. Our families had suffered too much. They sacrificed for us, for me, even when they had nothing left to give.

As evening settles, we light a bonfire near the centre of where all our homes will be built.

Flames crackle, sparks lifting into the darkening sky. I sit slightly apart, guitar resting against my knee, and when Rose asks if I’ll play, I don’t hesitate. I sing for them, just like I used to.

They talk about goats and chickens, about the kids who will someday run free on this property for generations to come. About Luke and me finally coming home for good. About a future that feels close enough to touch.

I smile and nod, trying my best to hold it together.

This is what I was building toward.

This is what he kept walking away from.

I close my eyes, letting the quiet settle into my bones.

Even if he never comes back to me,thisstill matters, and for the first time in a long while, I don’t feel like I’m lying to myself.

chapter 10

bailey

. . .

The dress shop smells like steamed fabric, lavender, and something faintly sweet I can’t place. It feels insulated from the world outside, like nothing bad could follow you in if you close the door tight behind you.

Sadie stands on the small platform in front of the mirror, hands clenched together at her waist, bouncing on the balls of her feet while the seamstress circles her with pins tucked between her lips. She looks radiant, nervous and full of that reckless, fragile hope that only comes when you’re on the edge of something life-changing. Something great.

“Well?” she asks, eyes flicking to mine, searching.

I smile, wide and real. “You look perfect.”

She exhales a shaky laugh, pressing a hand to her stomach. “I feel like I might throw up.”

“That’s normal,” I tell her. “If you weren’t terrified, I’d be worried.”

She laughs again, relief rushing out of her, and reaches for my hand like she used to when we were kids and she needed grounding. She may have been the big sister, the guardian, but we were all we had in the world, and we were, are, everything to each other. I squeeze back, steady and reassuring, even as the pressure continues to build in my chest.

“I can’t believe this is happening,” she says quietly, almost to herself.

I sit down on the small couch with my bag in my lap, watching Sadie turn slowly as the seamstress steps back to assess her work. She’s beautiful. So sure in this moment. So happy. I will not touch that with my pain. I know I need to prepare myself for the very real possibility that Luke and I will not make it. But right now, I just want to bask in my sister's joy and hold onto a moment of hope.

Later, back at the compound, we are at Luke's parents' place, and I am looking at everything that Rose has been working on.Wedding details are everywhere: fabric swatches draped over chairs, flower samples spread across a table, a clipboard with lists taped to the wall. Our families are so interconnected; they always have been, and that shoots agonizing pain through my chest. I rub at it instinctively.