“Then that means you’re going to have to stay here with me in Asheville for a few weeks,” I tell him.
“My bags are packed and in the trunk,” he assures me, and my heart swells. Evan came here knowing it was all going to work out. He had the confidence in us as a whole to know it was going to be okay.
I hope I can have that same confidence one day.
I think I can.
No, wait… I know I can. Evan’s already helped me to grow in so many ways, so it will be unavoidable.
“Evan?” I whisper as I look into his eyes.
“Yeah?”
I swallow hard, and I decide to trust in him. I decide to take a risk so he doesn’t have to be the only one today making a bold step for us. “I love you. I loved you two months ago, which is why I think my heart was so broken. And I still love you today. Not the same amount, but more.”
“Now that would be a fantastic song lyric,” he says with a chuckle. Then he kisses me. No less savagely. None of the regret. Still amazingly sweet, and more fulfilling than I could have ever hoped for. “And I love you, too.”
EPILOGUE
Evan
“Alright, one last song tonight,” I say as I clasp one hand over the microphone and balance my guitar over my knee. I just finished an acoustic version of my latest hit, Crazy Good, a song I wrote last year after Emma and I got back together. It’s about her and how crazy fucking good my life became with her in it.
Since then, I’ve written a lot of songs about Emma, and you know what? My fans fucking love it. I’ve become like this modern-day romance hero or some shit because I write about my feelings for her. Apparently, that not only makes women’s panties combust, but it also makes their hearts swoon with rapture. It’s nothing but a pure goddamn joy that Emma is revered by my fans.
“This last one you all know,” I say softly into the microphone, and then tilt my head to the right. The cheering starts to build, reaching a crescendo as they all know what’s coming. My eyes land on her, and she blows me a kiss. “This one is called… Emma.”
And everyone goes fucking nuts.
And they should.
It’s an awesome song, having spent seven weeks at #1 on the Billboard Charts. It’s my best work in my humble opinion.
I have to hide my smile widening as my gaze focuses in on Cary and Midge standing a few feet behind Emma. She has no clue they came in for the concert. They’ve been in VIP seating but were led backstage per my instructions a few moments ago.
The lights turn down low and a lone spotlight shines down on me. I plug at the strings of my guitar, which ring clear and true with absolutely no other music to accompany. Cap, Jimmy, and Dilana exited the stage the minute the lights dimmed.
It’s just me and my words about Emma now.
I close my eyes and I reach into my heart, immediately latching onto the feeling and letting it lead the way.
The crowd sings along with me, because like me… they love Emma.
The song is beautiful and poignant. A constant reminder to me of how lucky I am.
It speaks of love and joy, trust and acceptance. I share with my fans how I love to lay in bed with her on rainy mornings. How she nags me to put the dishes in the dishwasher. I’m told it’s especially swoon worthy when my voice drops low, and I wonder what she’d look like pregnant with my child. I’ve heard that men are getting laid left and right by their women after I sing that she would never be more beautiful.
It’s the best song I’ve ever written, and it will never be topped.
I’m okay with that, because it’s just a song and I have the real deal standing right over there.
My eyes open and my head turns again, pinning her in place as I sing the last lines.
She’s mine for days, an eternity even… and yet that could never be enough.
Because she’s Emma.
The last notes of the song fade away and the crowd goes crazy. I turn back to the mic and in a husky voice—because I always get emotional at the end of that song—I tell the crowd, “Thank you all for coming. I love you.”
The noise is deafening and will ultimately result in an encore chant. They know I’ll be back.
But for now, I slip off the stool, rest my guitar against it, and walk off the stage toward Emma.
She beams at me, pride etched all over her face even as she wipes tears away. That song always gets her.
“You were wonderful,” she says as I pull her in for a hard hug.
“Pretty much,” I tease her, and she pinches me just below my ribs.