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I didn’t want to sugarcoat things. The past few months had been pretty rough. Even brutal, at times. Although we’d agreed to fight for our relationship, old wounds didn’t just vanish overnight. Years of pain and misunderstandings had carved deep trenches between us. Trust had been eroded, replaced by automatically assuming the worst about each other, and it was taking time to rebuild it despite our best intentions.
The morning after our reunion, I had to peel myself away from Gray’s warmth before dawn, rushing to catch my flight to Dallas for that night’s show. Leaving felt like leaving a piece of my soul behind, especially considering how fragile our reignited relationship felt. As I dressed, Gray stirred in bed, offering a smile that couldn’t quite mask his uncertainty.
“What’s wrong?” I asked.
Gray shrugged, his eyes betraying his doubts. “Feels too good to be true, you know? Like once you’re gone, reality will hit, and you’ll realize I’m not worth sticking around for.”
I closed the distance between us, crawling on top of Gray’s bare torso and enveloping him in a tight embrace. “I know, baby. I hate leaving when our relationship is still so fragile. But you’re not getting rid of me this easily. This is where we have to trust each other. It’s only three weeks, and then we have forever. We can do this, okay?”
Gray’s nod was accompanied by a shadow passing over his face, a familiar darkness that I knew all too well. Depression was like that—a relentless companion, lurking in the corners of your mind, waiting for its moment to engulf you in doubt and despair.
No amount of reassurance from me would break through that cloud right now. And that was fine. Patience had become my ally in navigating these moments. It pained me to see him in this headspace, but I knew pushing wouldn't help.
So, I chose to stand by him, silent but supportive.
Except, as it turned out, I was lying to myself. Patience wasn’t my forte. Less than a week after our reunion, those feelings of panic resurfaced when Gray didn’t pick up his phone. If our foundation had been solid, I wouldn’t have thought twice about it. But we hadn’t been granted the necessary time to find stability, and instead I was thrust back seven years, reliving the trauma of frantically calling Gray, only to be met with deafening silence.
When Gray finally picked up, explaining that he'd left his phone on silent during his physical therapy session, I couldn't contain myself. Fear had morphed into anger, and I let him have it, my emotions boiling over. It took both of us hanging up, taking a breather, and reflecting before we were able to begin untangling the mess. Gray agreed to keep me in the loop if his phone wouldn't be accessible, while I pledged to address my concerns without immediately resorting to accusations. It was a step towards progress—we couldn't move forward if I kept tiptoeing around, waiting for history to repeat itself.
Strangely, with each argument and disagreement, I felt us drawing closer. It was a bizarre realization, one that took some time to digest. We'd never fought like this before, but each reconciliation fortified the foundations of our relationship. Honest conversations laid down the bricks of trust, strengthening our bond. And phone sex didn’t hurt either.
After nearly a month apart, my impatience to see Gray again had reached a whole other level. Especially since we'd made a pact—this separation would be the last of its kind. Barring any extreme circumstances, we were never enduring such a lengthy separation again. Frankly, if I had my say, we wouldn't spend a single day apart for the next fifty years.
Missing out on picking up Gray and Violet from the airport had killed me, but the demands of navigating New York traffic and making it back in time for soundcheck left me no choice. Instead, I found myself confined to my dressing room, my leg bouncing anxiously as I gnawed my nails to the quick.
And then there he was, illuminated by the lights dancing around the mirror. Our eyes met in the reflection, and I was captivated by the sight of those mesmerizing blue irises. The reappearance of that crooked grin nearly caused my heart to leap from my chest.
Wrapping his arms around my shoulders,he leaned down to pepper kisses up my neck, sending shivers down my spine when his lips brushed against my earlobe. "I missed you, Princess," he murmured, before he playfully bit down and a moan escaped from my parted lips.
Without warning, I spun around and attacked, launching myself at him with such ferocity that we tumbled to the floor in a tangled heap, my body pressed against his. In a frenzy, we shed our clothes in record time. But as our heated skin met, urgency gave way to a slow, deliberate exploration, relishing the familiar and comforting embrace as we traced the contours of each other's bodies with reverent hands.
Gray seemed fixated on my pierced nipples, his teeth tugging at them repeatedly as we rocked together, our arousal building with each movement. Meanwhile, I found myself obsessed by the lines of text adorning Gray's ribs, continuously stroking over that spot with one word echoing in my mind.
Mine.
Long after we found our pleasure, we remained entwined on the floor, cuddled in each other’s arms. I’d never felt such peace, never experienced such contentment in my life. My anxious mind was finally quiet, ready to live in the moment with the love of my life beside me.
∞∞∞
The final six months of my world tour passed in the blink of an eye. It was a surreal sensation, to be singing these songs of love and heartbreak without the constant ache of loss to accompany them. Hell, I think the crowd was worried I’d been replaced by a body double when I remixed my most depressing ballad “Did You Mean It?” into an up-tempo anthem of hope, rather than the usual somber acoustic version.
I could tell the audience was on the edge of their seats, wondering what surprises I might have in store for them. After all, rumors about my “mystery man” had also started circulating on gossip sites ever since I’d made my unscheduled visit to Jasper. Honestly, I’m not sure how my publicist had managed to keep my marriage under wraps all this time, I only knew that she deserved a raise.
Oh well, it wouldn’t matter for much longer. As I stood on stage and prepared to deliver the final surprise of the night, I couldn’t fight the grin knowing the audience weren’t the only ones in for the mother of all shocks.
“Thank you, Sydney!” I panted into the microphone, trying to catch my breath. “I want to thank every last one of you for making it out tonight, you’ve been amazing!”
I paused, feeling a new rush of emotion as I prepared to introduce the final song of the night. “This last song holds a very special place in my heart. I wrote it when I wasn’t in a good place. It isn’t a secret that I had a rough childhood. You may have also guessed that I had a very significant relationship in my younger years that broke my heart. Well, when I finally started therapy, part of my recovery was to re-examine the relationships in my life. But through the process of writing this song, I came to a realization: I didn’t want that relationship to be over.
““Imperfect Cadence" is a musical term for a harmony that sounds unfinished. This song is a metaphor for my relationship with a man named Grayson.”
I paused, my smile threatening to split my face in two, drowned out by the deafening screams of support from my fans. While my sexuality might have been a poorly kept secret, this was the first time I’d ever confirmed it publicly. Because now more than ever, it mattered.
Glancing to the side of the stage, I caught sight of my reason waiting patiently in the wings for this moment. Together, we’d agreed we would rather announce our relationship on our own terms, rather than having the story twisted into a narrative we couldn’t control.
We’d agreed Gray would come out and wave to the crowd. What Gray didn’t know was that I’d decided to take a page out of his book—it was my turn to “woo” him, as Gray liked to say.
“Gray, do you mind coming out to say hi to everybody?” I teased, addressing the audience.
