Chapter Sixteen

Willa

" H ow was recording today?" My childhood best friend, Avery, says as she and I sit on the balcony of my Nashville penthouse.

Because we're so far up, I feel safe to talk to her as if we're inside. "It was good, but I don't think a rock album is for me. It was a lot of fun, but I can't imagine how that would fit into the touring schedule. This tour is one of the most physical I've ever done, and I can't see that they'll get any easier." I muse. "It's more physical than anything I've done in my life. When I set out to do it, I wasn't sure I was going to be able to, because I've never been hugely athletic."

"Yeah, but you forget, I've seen your show a few times now, and I know what you're work ethic is like. I had no doubts, and I have to admit—it's really fun watching you on the TikTok and Instagram videos. You're having such a good time. The smile on your face is genuine, and I can see how happy you are." Avery takes a drink of her beer.

I'm nursing mine. It's been a while since I drank two nights in a row. Once I knew I was going on this tour, I worked out how long the show would be, and started working out, it was evident I wouldn't be able to continuously indulge in all the consumables I tend to enjoy. Drinking, heavy food, not getting my water in… It was a choice I had to make if I wanted to do this tour, and these shows, justice.

"I am happy." My voice is raspy—it's almost constantly like this now, because the shows are so long.

Avery doesn't know about Blake though, and I'm about to blow her mind. "Did you hear about Blake Whitfield wanting to give me a friendship bracelet?" I drop the question as casually as possible.

She rolls her eyes, her smile hiding behind her beer. "I'd have to be living under a damn rock not to have heard about it."

"Good. Then I don't have to explain what led up to this."

She drops the beer down. "Led up to this? Oh, whatever you haven't been telling me is going to be good, isn't it?"

"It's going to be as good as I make it. Either way, Blake got in touch with me after he talked about wanting to give me his phone number. We had help from other people, but in the end, we were given a way to contact each other. For the past few weeks, he and I have been hanging out."

She giggles. "Have you been hanging out, or have you been hanging out ? We both know there's two different kinds. Are you prepared to tell me?"

"You know there aren't many people I'm completely honest with." I play with the edge of my shirt. "But I'm always honest with you."

"Which is why I'm screaming and kicking my feet inside, waiting to hear what you're going to tell me. It's hard to be patient with you, Willa, but I'm dying to know what you've been hiding from me."

I sigh, blowing a breath so that my bangs go up in the air. "I haven't been hiding it—I've just been enjoying it. He's not like Mercer." I mention my ex-boyfriend, the one I'd been with for years, and then once I had the miscarriage, we couldn't make it work. "He doesn't want to keep the whole thing secret."

"Which is good, because you shine, Willa. There's something about you—it's nothing that anyone can put their finger on. It's this magic air you have about you. It's like glitter that shimmers. No matter what's going on around you, you're there, and all eyes are on you. When you were with Mercer it wasn't hard for you to hide because we were in a pandemic. I don't think any of us came out of that unscathed."

"You're right." I take a drink of my beer. So much happened during those long months that turned into a year. I lost my innocence, and my belief that things would work out with the man who I'd thought was the love of my life. "I sure as hell didn't. If there's one thing it taught me, it's what I don't want."

"I'm sorry. I know you had dreams for that relationship. Hopes and plans that you'd built it on."

I did. When Mercer told me he wasn't ready for kids, on my thirtieth birthday, I'd had some of my eggs frozen in preparation for our eventual future. But then the pandemic had hit, and we were both stuck overseas. The US had closed, and while we were okay where we were, it was still hard FaceTiming our families, and trying to conduct business while navigating so many of the unknowns. Luckily, he got where I was coming from as a music producer—not of my music though.

The first night we might, he'd laughed and told me he didn't do that pop shit. He did what he considered to be real music. I'd overlooked it because I was so intrigued by him—by his dark eyes, blond hair, and the expression he always had that looked like he was pissed off. He was so different from anyone else I'd ever met. Like a moth to a flame, I was drawn to him, and I couldn't let it go. I wanted to be the one he was with.

After being in a relationship for a couple of years, I'd assumed we were headed toward the same goals in life—marriage, children, buying a home together. But then we were legitimately stuck together, and things changed.

"I'm still so sorry you had to deal with that on your own. You've never fully spoken with me about it. Do you want to?" Avery asks.

I haven't before tonight. She doesn't even know the full story, but maybe I do need to get it off my chest. Maybe I need to let it go, because the more I think about it, the more it kills me inside. I've never even told my parents the complete truth. It's like a cancer, eating me from the inside out, because I've kept it bottled up.

It's a split-second decision—one I'm not conscious of in the moment, but it's one I know I must have made. "Yeah, I do think I'd like to talk to you about it, if you want to listen. I may not be able to make it through without crying, but if you'd be willing to be my ear, I'd like to get it off my chest. You knew in the immediate aftermath, but you never knew all the details."

She gets up. "Do we need more alcohol for this?"

"Yeah, enough so that I can drown out the feelings of failure if they start to come back," I croak out.

She reaches over, grabbing my hand in hers. "You're not a failure. I hope you haven't been carrying that thought around with you, Willa. But I'll go get the wine, and you get ready to let me in. Okay?"

I nod, looking out over the Nashville skyline. When I was a kid, singing, knowing that was my dream, was all so easy. But as I've gotten older and my dreams have evolved, become living and breathing things, they've been more difficult. Avery's right though—I need to let this out and let it go. There will always be a piece of me that can't be completely honest with Blake until I do, and if there's one thing I want? It's to be honest with him, to be my full authentic self with him, and pray like hell he's willing to accept me for who I am. So many others haven't, and for the hundredth time this year, my therapists words ring out. That's more about them, Willa, than you.

So here I go, ready to let someone in, and hope that she is ready to listen.