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She smiles, and for a second, it’s just her and me. Everything is good. It’s not how I thought this visit would go, but it’s also not a bad outcome.

That night, when she’s asleep in my arms in the guestroom, I sit up because I can’t stop thinking about how things have changed since last year. A new world opened up when Coen took a step back. Now, it feels like a new world is opening up with Serena taking a step in. How I fit into all this remains to be seen. But for now, I guess I’ll just keep on chasing her wherever she chooses to go.

CHAPTER FIFTY

SERENA

A YEAR LATER

Ding!

My phone goes off in my back pocket. Fidgeting just out of sight, stage right, I step back and pull it out. It’s Sabrina, with an adorable photo of baby Emmaline, my perfect niece. She was born a few months ago, a carbon copy of my sister. Sabrina clearly set up the photo, making Coen sit on the couch and hold her up. He’s the happiest he’s ever looked, despite his messy hair and tired eyes. This is all Coen wanted. It’s what Sabrina wanted, too, and I’m so happy for them.

I’m also happy for me.

And for Jamie.

I take my phone out of my pocket and hand it to the stagehand, giving him a polite smile. Behind him, I catch the outline of broad shoulders appearing from the darkness. There he is, flanked by Jenna, striding in her heeled Oxfords with her phone to her ear. My chest melts, the way it always does when I see him just before going on stage. He’s so handsome, so capable. A rock in uncertain waters.

He pauses beside me, snaking an arm around my waist.

“You feeling good, baby?” he says.

“Yeah, good as I can be,” I say, turning my face up so he can kiss me.

This is the tenth tour stop on Madi Banker’s Canadian tour. I wasn’t supposed to be her opener. I didn’t even have an album out yet. But she heard “Chase Me, Cowboy,” not knowing about Jamie and me, and asked if there was a chance I could step in when her former opener had a family emergency. It was the most nerve-wracking experience of my life, but Jamie was there for the whole thing. Jenna ran me hard through media training, had me perform in Nashville bars for weeks on end, walked me through countless sparsely attended sound checks until I could perform my short set without a hiccup.

It’s an easy show. I start with a microphone on a stand and a stool. By the last song, “Chase Me, Cowboy,” I’m up with the mic in my hand, but every step is preplanned. I’ll get used to it, Jamie assured me, and then everything won’t have to be so rehearsed. For now, I’m still in the stage where everything blurs, and I need my cues and setlist. That’s alright, Jenna assures me. I’m new, people get that.

It actually helps when my family shows up. Now that I’m used to singing in front of people, I look for a familiar face and everything goes quiet. Mom, who has been incredibly supportive from the minute she found out about everything, attended my first three shows. Dad managed to make it to one, with Sabrina and Coen in tow, and he had a conversation with Mom and Hugh in person for the first time in years.

It’s been a transformative summer. Both personally and professionally. I think this is the closest my family has ever been.

“First outdoor venue,” Jenna says, pulling up beside us. “How we feeling, honey?”

“Good,” I say, truthfully.

I do. It’s a nice night. I got to sleep well into the early afternoon after getting in late. Jamie wasn’t with the tour yesterday, he was in Houston taking care of some business, but he landed around midnight, a few minutes after the bus got in. Of course, that was a late night, even though we were both exhausted. We’ve both been so busy that seeing each other still feels like being in a honeymoon phase.

I hope it stays that way.

“When do we head out tomorrow?” I ask.

“We don’t have another stop for a week,” she says, checking her smartwatch. “If you want to jet off somewhere, you can, but be back by Friday morning, sharp.”

“I don’t have anywhere to be,” Jamie says, wrapping an arm around my waist and kissing the top of my head.

“Nowhere but wherever I’m at,” I whisper back.

Jenna taps her watch again. “Alright, not to break you two lovebirds up, but it’s places in five.”

I turn to Jamie. “Are you going to stay and watch?”

“From backstage,” he says.

“I’d rather you be in VIP.”

There’s something so comforting about looking out and seeing him there. It feels like the whole crowd falls away and it’s just us. Like the first time I played for him, or the first time he heard me sing in Tennessee. It’s like being home.