“Maybe I could show Jax and Liv what I’ve been working on,” I said. “Maybe they would want to record my stuff.”
“You could.” She tilted her head as she gazed at me. “But I think what makes your words so special is that you’re the one singing them.”
I raised my brows. “You’re saying you think I should perform? By myself?”
“There’s no better person to tell your story than you.”
I pressed my lips together, mulling the idea over in my mind. I’d never wanted to or even considered going solo.
“I don’t know,” I said, shaking my head. “I’ve only ever been part of a band. Jax…he was the talent. The lyricist, the singer.”
“But I thinkyouwere the heart.” She paused and placed a hand on my arm, giving it a squeeze.
I blinked in disbelief.The heart of the band? Me?
“And you are just as talented,” she continued. “Even more so, if you ask me. And your voice…Luca, you don’t even realize how good you are. You made me feel every word you sang.”
It wasn’t that I thought of myself asuntalented, but as the lead guitarist, I’d felt more like an entertaining sideshow than the main event. Jax had been the one with the songwriting chops. He’d been the one with the voice that had been the highlight of our glowing reviews. Sure, we’d won several awards over the years, but part of me had always looked at those as his.
We all pitched in here and there when writing songs for the band, but every idea had started and ended with Jax. I’d been content to go along for the ride, giving only what was asked of me, never offering too much of myself.
“It would be weird to get on a stage again without them,” I said.
“It would,” she agreed. “But I imagine it felt a little strange when you started writing your own songs without them too.”
“It did.”
“But it was worth it, right?” she asked. “It felt good after you did it?”
“Yeah,” I admitted. “It did.”
“I know it’s scary, but I think it could be good for you too. You’ve spent years helping to tell stories that weren’t yours and letting people make up their own narratives about you. I know the press hasn’t exactly been kind to you.”
“They’re going to spin the story how they want to anyway, so I just never really saw a point.”
“You—your truth—matters,” she said, touching my chest. “Other people don’t get to tell you who you are. Only you get to decide that.”
“You really believe I can do this?” I threaded my fingers through hers and turned her hand over so I could kiss her knuckles.
“I do,” she said. “But what doyouthink?”
The seed she’d planted in me grew then, faith and confidence taking root in my mind. Her belief in me watered the soil that had once been dried up with doubt.
I gave her a single resolute nod. “I think you’re right.”
And I knew just the person to call to help me make it happen.
I sentCash a text as soon as McKenzie left on Sunday, asking if he had time to speak with me over Zoom the next day. He agreed, and we set up the call for noon on Monday.
When my friend and former manager’s face came over the screen, it was like no time had passed since I’d seen him, even though it had been several months. I asked how he was, then quickly shifted the topic to his wife Ella.
“Is she around? Can I talk to her?” It killed me that I hadn’t been there when her mom had passed away. I’d been so wrapped up in my own pain that I’d shut out the rest of the world. I still remembered how much it hurt when I heard the news on my voicemail in the middle of the night, the night before I visited Lacey’s office for the first time.
“She’s at a doctor’s appointment with Betty,” he said. “It’s just a regular checkup. Our little girl is growing like a weed.”
I nodded. “How is Ella?”
“It’s a day to day thing,” he answered, his gaze falling. “Her mom had Alzheimer’s for so long that Ella felt like she lost her over and over again. I think what hurt her the most was when she really slipped away there toward the end and Ella knew she’d never see her mom asheragain.”
