Page 68 of Beneath a Tennessee Sky

Chapter Twenty-Two

Jinnie

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THE BAKERY’S OVEN TIMER screams at me, jolting me out of my thoughts. I yank open the door, and a wave of heat slaps me in the face. The cinnamon rolls inside are perfect—golden brown. Normally, this would make my chest swell with pride. Today, it just feels like another thing I’m doing on autopilot. Not just today. I’ve been on autopilot for weeks. Months. I feel lost. Empty.

“Jinnie?” Stephanie’s voice from up front pulls me back to the present. “Can you box up a dozen assorted for the road trip crew?”

I nod, grabbing a pink pastry box before making my way up front. Three college-aged girls cluster near the register, all wearing ripped jeans and band tees—Jack’s band tees—with Jumping Jack scrawled across the chest in that ridiculous lightning bolt font the label designed.

“I can’t believe we got front row tickets!” one squeals, bouncing on her toes. “My cousin works the VIP section. Says he always parties with fans after shows.”

My fingers tighten around the box.

The tallest girl fans herself. “Damn, did you see his Instagram story last night? That man should be arrested for how hot he is.”

The third girl giggles, scrolling through her phone. “Look, he just posted again!” She sighs dramatically. “I’d sell a kidney to meet him.”

Other customers at the counter are all talking about Jack and the fact they saw him play at Aggie’s bar in town. The girls, clearly not from here, are flabbergasted. They had no idea. I toss donuts into the box with little care.

Stephanie materializes beside me. “I’ll take care of them,” she murmurs. “Why don’t you check the supply in back? We need more blueberry muffins.”

I don’t argue. I walk away but I don’t go to the rack with all the fresh baked goods. I go into the walk-in fridge. I lean against the shelves, closing my eyes. It shouldn’t hurt this much. I know he’s long gone from my life. I’m holding on to something that doesn’t exist. I’ve been fine the last few days, but this morning I woke up with a calendar notification.

Jack’s birthday.

I have no idea where he is. I know I can find out because his social media team documents almost every move he makes. His feed has been flooded with pictures of him with fans. Him hunched over a guitar with messy hair with a caption promising new music is coming soon. He’s writing. He’s writing without me. He doesn’t need me anymore. There have been a few candid pictures of him as well. One of him sleeping on the jet, which I just know Liz took. That fact burns through me as well. He’s spending all of his time with her. There have been pictures of him eating a burger with the chain tagged in the photos. I don’t know if that’s a collaboration or some kind of shout out. I hate that I’m watching him live his glamorous life from far away.

I pull out my phone. And before I can overthink it: Happy birthday, Jack.

The read receipt appears immediately. No typing bubbles. No response. Just that little gray Seen that feels like a door clicking shut.

Why would he care that I’m wishing him a happy birthday? He’s got a million people surrounding him telling him that. I haven’t looked at his social media today, but I just know there’s probably a million birthday wishes. He’s probably going to have a big party with industry bigwigs. Celebrities fawning over him.

I’m a distant memory. Hell, that’s probably thinking a bit too much of myself. I doubt I’m even a memory. He’s been traveling the country and has probably forgotten all about me and Aggie and the bar.

I step out of the fridge and almost run into Lisa.

“Are you okay?” she asks.

“I’m fine.”

“I saw today is his birthday,” she says.

“It is.”

“Have you heard from him?” she asks.

I force a smile. “No, and I don’t expect to.”

“I’m sorry.”

I shrug it off. “It’s okay. Now, I need to get the muffins Stephanie asked for.”

“So, I think I should warn you about something,” Lisa says.

“What?”