Chapter 23

Sterling kept the guitar over his shoulder as he walked to the front of the stage, waving and smiling to his fans. He spent a little more time tonight and even bent down where he could reach to touch a young girl’s hand. Her father had braved the area closest to the stage just to get her near. Sterling’s sound wasn’t hard enough for a really wild mosh pit or anything, but still. The girl had brown hair, but big blue eyes that shone when he squeezed her hand. She made him think of May and a smile lit his face.

Since this was his last show, he could fly back out to L.A. soon to see her. They were driving back to Nashville tomorrow and he would fly back to California in two days. He didn’t want to think back to the very first time he visited, where May was still in withdrawal. But her weak smile and careful way she had carried herself were gone at his last visit, replaced by a huge grin and a bounce in her step. Her eyes had been bright and clearer, and she laughed long and loud with him.

May was changing. And she wasn’t the only one.

“Good night, Charlotte!” Sterling shouted. “Thank you for coming out and for supporting my music. You guys know how to close out a tour!”

More screams. People held up phones with the lit screens shining toward him and his bandmates joined him out front for one last bow. At one time, this had been the high point of his life: performing a great show. But almost immediately after, a crash had followed, every single time. As soon as the adrenaline left his body, Sterling would go back to a tour bus or an empty hotel room and remember that the joy was short-lived. He would have to do it all again. Crowds were fickle. They could turn on him at any time. Then what would he have?

The post-performance depression he sometimes had was just one of the things he had talked about with his therapist. Because of his schedule, they had sessions over the phone, not in-person. Sterling thought that might be weird, but he was much more open to sharing this way. He found it easier to be honest. Morgan had recommended the service when he mentioned wanting to get counseling.

“I’m proud of you, big guy,” she had said when he enlisted her help. They had finally gotten back to normal, the weirdness of their fake dating gone. Morgan had met someone as well while on the road—a guitarist for another band they played with at a show in Seattle. That took away some of the tension as well, letting them fall back into their easy friendship. Sterling was glad. Between Moby, his therapist, and Morgan, he had a lot of listening ears.

Sterling wouldn’t say that he had fully dealt with his anger toward his father. But he had made strides. He was still working. He would say the same thing about his faith. It wasn’t the childlike wonder he’d had when he was young, before his father left. He asked a lot more questions and challenged more things but was open and could sense God working in him. The fact that he believed in God again would have shocked him a few months ago. Coming to this point made him realize that he had been fighting for years. He didn’t realize how exhausting it had been until he let go.

Moby surprised Sterling by telling him that he grew up in the church. He had fallen away a bit as well and Staci had challenged him to reconnect with God. In the back lounge of the tour bus, Sterling and Moby had long and sometimes impassioned debates about the Bible. These discussions had really helped bring the words to life for Sterling. Faith was not weak, as he had thought to himself for years. For him, faith was engaging daily with his doubts and fears and his shortcomings. Sterling felt like he was really living for the first time he could really remember.

He wouldn’t say he was fixed. But would he ever be? He just hoped the changes in him were enough. As alive as he felt, there was still one very big missing piece in his life.

Moby put his arm around Sterling and they waved one last time. The roar of the crowd surged up around them, filling their ears and even vibrating a little in Sterling’s chest. With a smile, they exited the stage.

“You ready for this to end?” Moby asked, having to almost shout in Sterling’s ear.

He passed off his guitar to one of the crew members. “Yes and no. You?”

“This was your best tour ever, man. You better keep me on the shortlist for your next one.”

Because Sterling was a solo artist, his band could trade out. Chuck and David had already said that they were going to stop touring and find more nine-to-five jobs. Sterling had signed with a new label and they probably would recommend people. But Sterling had gotten a great contract and loved his new label. They would listen if he wanted specific people. He definitely wanted Moby.

“You know I will,” Sterling said. “I don’t think I could go on tour without you now. Was that your master plan? To make it so I had to keep you around?”

“A magician never reveals his secrets,” Moby said with a smile.

They moved down the halls, people giving high fives and slaps on the back for a great show. After Reese left, Sterling thought that he might lose the energy that had marked the start of the tour. But she was never far from his mind on stage. Somehow the heartache he felt at losing her colored his performance as much as his excitement when she had been there. He had written a few slower ballads that were gut-wrenching to perform, but somehow cathartic as well.

His favorite new song, though, was one called “Spin.” The melody had come from that night in Santa Monica with Reese. He sang it for the first time tonight in the encore, dedicating it to his girlfriend, feeling his heart clench as he thought of Reese and said that word. Girlfriend.

Did she watch any of the videos fans took of his shows? Would she see this song and wonder who his girlfriend was?

Or had she moved on?

One of the agreements Moby and Staci had come to was that they wouldn’t share much personal information back and forth to Reese and Sterling. It was too slippery of a slope and painful to them both. Though Moby and Staci both thought Reese and Sterling should talk, they hadn’t since that last morning in Santa Monica.

Sterling did send Reese a letter. Since he couldn’t apologize in person, he found her address in the paperwork she had filled out for Morgan. It took him a few days to get the guts to write it and another week to send it.

Reese,

I wanted to say this in person, but I don’t know when or if I’ll have the chance. Text and email seemed too small to say these words.

I AM SO SORRY.

Even on paper, they seem too small. There is no excuse for the way I snapped at you or for the hurtful things I said. My anger towards my father has been a poison. I hadn’t realized how much until I let it poison you too.

I am working through this. I’m also working on how being angry with my dad turned into anger toward God. Though I don’t deserve them, I covet your prayers.

Will you forgive me? I hope to ask in person sometime soon.

Love,

Sterling

He had written seven versions of the letter. In some of them he tried to explain too much about his father and it came off like he was giving excuses. In one version he begged her to take him back, promising to get on the first flight if she only sent him a text.

The final version felt like the most honest. He debated on how to sign it, but kept “love,” since that’s how she had signed her last note to him at the hotel in Santa Monica.

It was also completely true. He loved Reese.

Every day after he sent the letter, Sterling checked his phone for a response. It wasn’t like Reese could send a letter to the tour bus. A week after he mailed it, he got a simple text.

Reese:I forgive you. And will keep praying.

Sterling:Thank you. I’ll do the same for you.

He wanted to say so much more. Hoping she might respond, he had held the phone in his palm for twenty minutes after he sent the text. It had been weeks now. Sterling continued to hope. He also did as he promised: he prayed for Reese. The practice still felt a little strange after so many years hovering between doubt that God existed and fury if he did. Sterling found that being honest made the prayers feel more real, even in the times when he still struggled with anger or doubt. Prayer had started to feel less like a routine he did and more like a need.

Moby stopped Sterling just before they entered the green room. “How are you feeling about tomorrow? You ready for that?”

Sterling’s heart began moving faster at the thought. “More than ready. You?”

Moby laughed. “I’ve been waiting almost two months to finally meet Staci in person. So, yeah, I’m ready for tomorrow.”

“Just don’t screw up what you have to do for me.”

Moby held up his hands. “Me? You know I’ve got nothing but love for you, baby. You pay my bills. I don’t bite that hand.” They both laughed. “Maybe it will be the best night of our lives?”

Sterling thought back to the night spent with Reese at Shutters, playing Double Solitaire, laughing, snuggling on the balcony, kissing. “The best night ever is going to be a pretty tough one to beat.” He grinned and threw an arm around Moby’s shoulders. “But I’m hopeful.”

* * *

Reese tried to shove away the sadness she felt watching Staci get ready for her date with Moby. She definitely didn’t want her heartbreak over Sterling to be obvious, though Staci knew. They had agreed to keep the Sterling talk to a minimum, other than the occasional check-in where Reese made Staci pump Moby for information. He didn’t give up much. Every time she got Staci to ask, apparently Sterling was good. Just … good.

“That’s what you get for running away and never calling him again,” Staci had said, more than once. “If you want to know how he is, call the boy. He did send you that sweet letter.”

Reese had been surprised by the letter. Not just because the last time she received anything other than a bill in the mail had been years ago. The content surprised her. Sterling seemed more open. It sounded like he was dealing with the hurt that caused him to lash out. He took full responsibility without making excuses. It read as humble and honest. Reese only wished that he had been there in person to say the words. But with all that happened, maybe distance was better. Her feelings for him had not dimmed, and she didn’t know if she could handle seeing him again.

Reese had wanted to say more than the simple text, especially when he wrote back, saying he was praying for her. Sterling, praying? What exactly had been happening in his life since she saw him last? What she wanted more than anything was to get on a plane and go to him. She kept up with his tour schedule because it made her feel better knowing which city he was in.

She thought about calling him. Not just the day she got the letter, but every day since.

But Reese couldn’t bring herself to dial his number. She expected that she would start to feel better, or at least less broken, as time went on. Instead, she only missed Sterling more. The ache settled deeper in her bones. His apology meant a lot, but the distance between them seemed too great. Especially for such a short-lived relationship. He had been right when he said that the bubble had popped. It was over.

Which made it incredibly difficult to watch Staci putting on makeup, giddy with excitement for her date with Moby. But this is what best friends did.

“Do you think he’s going to like my hair? I had it in braids the whole time we’ve been talking. Going natural was probably a bad idea.” Staci rubbed a product into her big, shoulder-length curls.

“I think it looks amazing on you. I liked the braids too. Moby has natural hair. If he didn’t like it on you, that would be hypocritical. Honestly, I think he just likes you. And you are hot no matter what your hair looks like. You could totally get away with shaving it.”

Staci gave her a look. “I am not shaving my head.”

Reese giggled. “You’ve tried about every hairstyle except that over the years. Why not? You’ve got the bone structure. You’d look like a model.”

“Models aren’t five-foot-five with a booty,” Staci said.

“Moby will definitely like your booty.”

Staci smacked Reese on the arm. Now they were both giggling. “If he comments on my booty on the first date …”

“Deal breaker?”

Staci met Reese’s eyes in the mirror. “I would normally say yes, but honestly, I don’t know what this man could do that would be a deal breaker. You loved him, right? He’s good?”

“Very good. Tomorrow we can go look at bridesmaids’ dresses. I get to choose since I’ll be your maid of honor.”

“My sister might kill you for that spot.”

“Let her come at me,” Reese said. They were laughing so hard that they almost didn’t hear the doorbell. Staci’s eyes flew open and she began frantically dropping things from her makeup bag.

“Get it! Get it! Tell him I’ll be right there. I just need to find my lipstick.”

Reese hopped down off the bathroom counter and made her way to the door. She knew it was just Moby, not Sterling. But a part of her hoped. They were back in Nashville. That meant Sterling was here in the same city. Somewhere. Probably in his mansion. Did he have a mansion? She didn’t even know. That thought made her achingly sad.

But when she opened the door and Moby burst in, it was hard to stay sad. He enveloped her in a hug with his signature wide smile. “You are not the woman I’m here for,” he said. “But it is so good to see you. How are you? And where is my woman?”

Reese didn’t get to answer before Staci walked into the room. Reese stepped away from Moby. This was the first time they had ever seen each other in person. From their expressions, neither was disappointed. If her heart ached any more tonight, Reese might need a new one. Moby looked like cupid had just shot a thousand flaming arrows into his chest. Staci’s face could hardly contain her smile.

And then they ran to each other, just like in a movie, but right there in their cramped apartment living room. Staci squealed, and Moby picked her up off the ground, spinning her around, his laughter filling the room. Reese blinked back happy tears. Mostly happy tears. She wanted happiness for her friend. She did. If only she could see her friend happy without feeling sad herself. Maybe with time, Reese would stop thinking of the way she momentarily had her own happiness, only to have it all fall apart as fast as it came together.

Moby and Staci didn’t seem to notice as she slipped away, shutting herself in the bedroom. Reese had an exciting night of client work, sarcasm intended. She should be glad to have clients, period, but it was hard to find joy in anything since Sterling.

When she had finally called to tell Kevin that she quit, he had shocked her by offering her a raise. Of all things.

“The phone has been ringing off the hook,” he had told her. “That was a brilliant move. Everybody wants the Spin Doctor. When can you come back in?”

Hearing his words had made it all the more satisfying to say, “I quit.”

Though she used almost zero social media for herself, Reese did have a LinkedIn profile. When she went to dust off her profile and look for job postings, she found her inbox flooded with people wanting to work with her. Within a few days she had her website up and running and she was in business. With Staci on the payroll, they could take on ten to twenty high-level clients at a time and do better than either of them had been doing at Azul.

It couldn’t have gone better if Reese had planned it. She definitely had not, though people thought the whole thing was a part of a grand plan. They definitely gave her too much credit. As much as she had wanted her own business, she would not have gone through so much heartbreak to get it.

Personally, the tabloids had made her life difficult for a few weeks, but as she knew it would, the story about Sterling died down. In a secret call to Morgan, Reese had advised her that the best strategy was to keep him performing well.

“Don’t let him do anything interesting except on stage,” Reese had told her.

“You’ve met Sterling, right?” Morgan had joked. “He barely does anything interesting. Giant introvert. Add lovesick to the mix and he barely leaves the tour bus.”

Love sick?Reese had wanted to ask more, but she couldn’t handle it. That was the last time she had talked to Morgan, probably six weeks before. Sterling certainly didn’t seem love sick based on the videos from his more recent stops. Reese knew more than anyone that appearances didn’t tell the whole story.

A part of her had expected that his tour might suffer or his shows would lack the energy he had before she left. It was super egocentric to think that she had anything to do with his performances, though. If anything, he got better as the tour went on. Only on really, really low days did she allow herself to search Twitter and Facebook for fan videos. With only Morgan running his social media, his official accounts were pretty much ghost towns, which was unfortunate. She still had all the passwords. She had thought about logging back in, but it’s not like Reese could upload videos from her house. Also, that would be full circle to creepy, stalker behavior.

Launching a business had helped distract her from thoughts of Sterling. At least a little bit. But knowing the tour was over and seeing Moby in her living room made it hard not to wish and hope.

Lord, let me focus.

Not on Sterling.

A few hours later, Reese had finished almost a week’s worth of social media scheduling for clients when her phone buzzed on the desk.

Staci:Coming home! But I forgot my keys. Can you unlock the door?

Reese:Just knock. I’ll come open the door.

Staci:Unless you want to see me locking lips with my BOYFRIEND, you might want to just leave the door unlocked.

Reese:Done.

The date must have gone well, not that she expected anything different. They might not have met in person until tonight, but Moby and Staci had gotten as close as you possibly could get via video chat.

Reese unlocked their apartment door and left it slightly ajar. She brushed her teeth and put on pajamas, wanting to disappear before the lovebirds got there. Staci would probably want to talk after Moby left to gush about the date. Reese didn’t know if she could handle that. She was happy for Staci. Or she would be. But tonight, her heart didn’t feel like a strong muscle. It felt more like a weak, soft mess.

Sighing, she got into bed and turned out the light. Staci wouldn’t be deterred, but she had a better chance of avoiding the conversation if she pretended to sleep. Or actually went to sleep.

But sleep did not come.

She heard the door close. Some giggling, then some bumping around. Were they rearranging furniture? Playing tag? Reese groaned and put the pillow over her head, hearing Moby’s low voice and then more giggling.

This was going to get old quick, having to be the third wheel to a super happy couple hanging out in the apartment all the time.

There was a knock at the door. “Come in, Stace,” Reese called. No response.

Sighing, she opened the door. No one was there. But she could see flickering from the living room and smelled the distinct smell of matches. Had they lit candles? And if so, why did they want her to join them?

“Staci?”

Still no response. Reese hesitated in the doorway. This was … odd. Where did they go? She needed to make sure the living room wasn’t on fire.

Reese walked through the open doorway into the living room and stopped. It felt like her feet had suddenly been cemented to the floor. She could not move them. Or her legs. Or any other part of her body.

Sterling James sat on the floor on the other side of the coffee table, grinning at her. He looked amazing. He had decided to stop shaving close to the end of the tour and had more than a five o’clock shadow gracing his jaw. It suited him. In the flickering light of a few dozen candles, he looked dashing and handsome and maybe a little mysterious. He had never looked better.

“You …” Reese started, but she didn’t know how to finish her sentence.

“Will you play with me?” Sterling asked. His eyes were pleading.

Only then did she notice that he had set up a game of Double Solitaire. Reese sat. He shifted and now his knees touched hers under the table. He smiled at the contact. Her heart fluttered.

“Ready?” he asked.

She held the cards in her hand. “Sterling, what—”

“Go!”

Reese swallowed down her confusion and her questions as they started the fast and furious game. It was hard to talk while playing and she couldn’t even sort out the questions in her head to start. Why was he here? How was he here? What did this mean?

Above all the confusion, Reese felt an overwhelming sense of hope. Her instinct was to choke it out. She didn’t want to have hope. Hope hurt. But seeing Sterling across the table, slapping cards down, feeling his knees touching hers, even smelling his familiar scent—all of it had her heart overriding her head.

“I won.” Sterling grinned at her from across the table. “Again?”

Reese wanted to understand what he was doing here. Why were they playing Double Solitaire by candlelight in her apartment like this was some normal occurrence? But just as she hadn’t wanted to burst the bubble in California, she didn’t want to do that now. He was here.

She had thought about this and wished for this. Many times she had prayed about their relationship. It was hard to know exactly what to ask for, but she prayed for a second chance with Sterling. If it was something God wanted. Reese had not lied when she told Sterling that she didn’t want to fix him. She didn’t expect perfection. But he had to be open to God and to growth. This seemed like an impossible prayer. She kept praying it anyway.

Now he was here, but she had no idea where he stood. About her or God or anything.

Reese slapped down her final King on the pile of Aces between them. “I won!”

“Best out of three?” Sterling asked. Reese nodded, and they began shuffling again.

Her sense of competition reared up in the last hand, but his did too. A few times they slapped each other’s hands in a race to lay cards down on the Aces. She was giggling, and he was too by the time Sterling slammed down his final King.

“Yes!” he shouted. “I win.”

“Congratulations.” Reese set down her cards. “Now do you want to explain what’s going on?”

In a swift move that startled her, Sterling picked up the coffee table and moved it to the side so that it was no longer between them. He sat down again, their knees touching. “Is it wrong that I wanted to see my girlfriend?”

“What?”

Sterling’s look was teasing. “I wanted to see my girlfriend. This is my second-longest relationship ever. Coming to see you after I got home from my super-successful tour—thanks to an excellent social media manager—was a given. Did you not expect me?”

Reese tried to make sense of this conversation. “Sterling, I’m not your girlfriend.”

He smirked. “When did we break up?”

“When you left me that morning ….” She thought back through their conversation in Santa Monica. He had not broken up with her. He walked away angry. But he had not said it was over. “I just assumed.”

Sterling made a clucking sound with his tongue. “You really shouldn’t assume things, girlfriend.”

She shook her head, trying to clear the muddled thoughts. His smile and close proximity were throwing her off. “But we—you—I thought. No. There is no way. That’s a technicality.”

“Sorry, Reese. But according to the rules of life, unless we break up, we are still together. I asked you to be my girlfriend. You said yes. We did not break up. Therefore, logic dictates that you are still my girlfriend. Sorry if that upsets you.”

Tears pricked her eyes. It did not upset her. But she was so overwhelmed that she didn’t even know how to respond to his flirtations and teasing. Maybe she just needed to flirt back. “You are the very worst boyfriend I have ever had,” she said.

His eyes seemed to light up. “I was hoping you’d say that! Or something like it. Really, I planned out like three options for this. All the bases covered. Wow. Listen to me ramble. I sound like you! Anyway, Reese, you need to stand up.”

“What?”

“Stand. Up. Please?”

Reese stood. At this point, she would do anything Sterling asked. He was here, in her apartment. He had come for her. Despite the silence between them since California, it felt like they were right back where they left off. She didn’t want to question it, or him. She wanted to follow him wherever he led.

Of course, that’s what got her in trouble in the first place with Sterling.

Lord, help! Strength, direction, guidance. Guard my heart and give me wisdom, please.

When Reese stood, Sterling got on one knee. It took her a moment to recognize the posture. Then her hands flew to her face. He could not be doing this. But even as her brain fought against believing it, her heart was singing.

“I know I’m the worst boyfriend ever. What would you think about changing titles? What would you say to letting me be your fiancé?”

Reese sputtered, staring down at him as he grabbed her hand in his, then pulled a ring box from somewhere. She barely glanced at the glittering stone inside. Her eyes were fixed on his. “But … what … you …”

“Reese Montgomery, I know that we have had the shortest and probably worst dating relationship of your life. I know that the last time we talked in person, I was horrible to you. I meant what I said in the letter—I am so incredibly sorry. Before you give your answer, I have a few more things to say. I’m sure this proposal would sound like a bad idea to most. But you know what? I don’t think so. I’ve been praying about this almost since the day you left. And your dad said yes. I flew to Texas and I asked him.”

Tears sprang to her eyes. “You asked my dad?”

“I did. Scariest moment of my life. Give me a packed stadium and a stage any day. I told him that you were a force of nature, which he agreed with. I explained how you won me over. How you fought with me about the most important things and pushed me to grow. You put me first, even when I didn’t deserve it. Reese, you have no idea the impact you had on my life. I want to tell you all about it. Have you still been praying for me?”

Reese nodded. Her prayer life had never been so good. She had only Sterling and her desperation to blame. She couldn’t speak through the tears that were turning quickly into something more serious. Happy, but serious. She nodded.

“Good. I’m glad. You know what else? I meant it when I said I had been praying for you.”

Reese could no longer hold back the sobs. She was so glad that Sterling had chosen the safety and quiet of her apartment to do this.

“You can’t fix me,” Sterling said. “I’m still a broken, hot mess. But I love you, Reese. I want to grow in faith and grow as a man right beside you. With you. I’ve had a lot of time to think about this and I’m sure. I love you. I want to wake up every morning to see you with your messy hair, your pajamas, and your beautiful face. I want to have you on tour with me, waiting in the wings. I want to build a home with you and come home to you. I want to have a teeny, tiny wedding and then spend the rest of that day being yours. Then I want to spend every single day being grateful that God gave me a second chance and that you did too. Reese, will you marry me?”

While he was talking, Reese had been praying for God to make the answer clear. She wanted this so much that she didn’t trust it. Sterling said all the things she wanted to hear. But doubts and fears rattled her. He was a famous rock star—what kind of life would this be? Could he really love her? He was new in his faith—was it genuine? Things moved too fast before—was she making the same mistake again?

As Sterling finished, Reese felt her fears and doubts suddenly disappear, like fog burning off in the sun. It felt like in place of every doubt or fear she’d had, God placed a sense of peace. The kind she had come to recognize as being from him. A verse popped into her head from one of the gospels: Peace I leave you; my peace I give to you. It was the confirmation she needed.

“Nothing would make me happier,” Reese said. “Yes, I will marry you.” The next thing she knew, Sterling had her in his arms, lifting her up and pulling her close. Staci and Moby appeared from somewhere and were hugging them and cheering and crying too.

Sterling pulled back just enough that Reese could see his face. “Did I say yes already?”

“You did. And I won’t let you take it back. I know I was the very worst boyfriend ever, but I promise that I will be the very best fiancé and husband you’ve ever had.”

“I believe you,” Reese said.

When he pressed his lips to hers, Reese felt like it was a confirmation of all her prayers, all her hopes, all her feelings. He wasn’t perfect. She wasn’t perfect. They would be two imperfect people, playing alongside one another, imperfectly.