The fan was a woman in her mid-fifties, completely obsessed with Wren, and she worked in tech which explained a lot on why it had been impossible to track her. Luckily she’d been a shitty shot, because she’d only gotten Kamon on the arm and he was already grumbling about the mandatory time off. He’d join us for the last leg of the tour.
Since we were leaving the country, I left the mess in the label’s hands. They could handle the cops. By the time the news of it all broke, we were on the plane on our way to London.
“Shit,” Wren hissed from his seat across the aisle from me.
“What?” I asked, surprised by his tone.
“I should’ve let the family know what happened.” What he meant was he should’ve letBodhiknow.
“I texted Emery while you tried to sleep. He’ll fill everyone in.”
“Okay…. Thanks.” He looked relieved, but his expression was still troubled and I wasn’t sure if it was about the last eight hours or his whole career.
“Wren?” Rachel asked from a few seats down. She had been working on her handlery duties nonstop since last night.
“Yeah?” he turned to look at her.
“You should probably prepare for the questions about the situation you’re going to get once we land.”
Immediately, I saw him bristle. I stuck my earbuds in and put on some music, because I didn’t need to be part of this argument. I shut them both out as he got up and went to sit with her—likely out of courtesy of my clearly not wanting to take part, because even ticked off, he still cared about my comfort—and sighed.
Three weeks in Europe. Then back to North America for the final part of the tour.
All I wanted was to be at that cabin in Colorado with Emery in my arms.
Chapter 26
Emery
Distraction was my savior. The key to my survival.
Seeing Ville for the weekend had been amazing, but when he left, it made things even harder on me. I never said a word. Not to him, not to anyone. I just went about my day, doing everything I could not to acknowledge the soul deep ache. I was pining, I knew it, but I was determined to persevere. But with each week that passed, I got closer to my breaking point.
It got worse when he’d texted about the shooting. Knowing it was a through and through, that Kamon would recover quickly and with no issues, and that that the person who had done it had been arrested, only helped a little. He’d had to spend a long time reassuring me that the threat was over and they weren’t in danger.
I missed Ville so badly I physically hurt.
The triplets were born the day after Thanksgiving via a scheduled cesarean at thirty-five weeks. Demi had gone on bed rest at twenty-eight weeks, doing everything she could to carry them as long as possible. We were lucky that there weren’t any serious complications during the pregnancy—which was a miracle in and of itself really—but their first few days of life were somewhat touch and go. Quinn rallied first, but then again, he’d been bigger than his identical twin sisters. Violet gave us a real scare on day two, but a quick-thinking nurse had placed her in Rowan’s isolette and that had gotten both girls’ vitals to stabilize. Quinn got to come home right before Christmas, and Violet and Rowan were released a few days after New Year’s.
Demi and Luke realized that their three-bedroom house in town was not big enough for their family, and took my parents up on the offer of land to build their dream home. The acre they chose was on the east side of the property, off the easement, and though it wasn’t complete yet and the whole family was taking up residence at the main house, it was nearly done. Mal and Crew decided it was time to build their house as well, and they’d broken ground close, but not too close, to Demi. They were talking about expanding their family as well, which we were thrilled about.
Fern and Gemma went in together to buy Demi’s house, and Ora moved in as well. Gemma asked for noise cancelling headphones for Christmas. I’d moved into the cabin between Crew’s and Russ’s, so that there was plenty of room at the house. But with Judson and Kee finishing up college, Isley in his last year of vet school, and Bodhi moving into the apartment he’d built above the admin building over at the Yellow Ribbon, it really hadn’t been necessary. I just wanted to be in “Ville’s” house.
Between the babies, the moving everyone around, the chaos of three toddlers, the new construction, and my never-endingwork where it was easy enough to pick up overtime, I was plenty distracted and too exhausted at the end of the day to think much.
It was hardest during the European leg of the tour, as the time zones were all messed up. Ville and I missed each other more than we connected. It was during those weeks that I got the closest to breaking. I wasn’t sure if that meant breaking down or breaking up, neither of which I really wanted to do. As much as I loved that man, and I did with everything I was, I knew I wasn’t cut out for long distance. I needed Ville here, holding me close, keeping me grounded in my own body, and he wasn’t. He couldn’t be.
When the tour came back to North America, Ville called me as soon as they landed and the relief at hearing his voice after several days of only texts, nearly made me bawl.
“Come to Miami,” he said, his voice cracking. He cleared his throat. “It’s gotta be all snow right now there, since it's February. I bet you could do with some sunshine.”
My laugh was watery. “I need to see you more than I need sun.”
Ville let out a rumble that was at least part laughter. “So come here.”
I had to do some shuffling of shifts and make some big promises to my coworkers, but I got on the plane Wren sent.
Ville was waiting for me when I disembarked and he strode toward me, all power and intense focus. I wanted to kiss him so badly, but he grabbed me up tight, not caring who was watching, and squeezed me until I could breathe again.
