Page 76 of The Song We Lost

#LetHerBeHappy

chapter 19

bailey

. . .

The tour comes to an end and I am unsure how to feel about it. A final encore. A final wave. The slow exhale of a bus pulling away from a venue that had once felt like oxygen. The ride is quiet for the first time this month. I sit sideways on the couch, knees tucked up, notebook open but untouched, listening to the hum of the road. I must have zoned out, because suddenly we are at our destination and the murmur of voices fading as people peel off one by one. Jackson is the last to leave the bus. He pauses at the door, hand on the rail, looking back at me like he knows this part matters too.

“You good?” he asks.

I nod, not really sure what to say.

He looks like he wants to say something, his dark eyes studying me, but then something shifts and he looks away before saying, “Let me know if you need anything.”

Then he’s gone.

We’ve finished writing for now. The songs are there. Rough, alive, and waiting. They’ll be recorded soon. Rachel has already started locking in studio time, producers, schedules that make my head spin.

Momentum wants to keep going, but I am not sure if that is what I want.

In the car with Rachel, I press my forehead to the cool glass of the window and watch city lights blur past, thinking about home.

Home isn’t neutral anymore. Home is the Carter house with the porch light that always stays on. It’s Rose’s kitchen table and Thomas’s quiet nods. It’s Noah’s boots by the door and the echo of Luke’s laughter in places it doesn’t belong anymore.

Home is a memory.

Home is sitting still long enough for everything I’ve outrun to catch up.

I’ve been good at not stopping. But I can feel it now, the pull. The need to land somewhere that isn’t a stage or a hotel room or a borrowed version of myself.

Rachel sits beside me, laptop open, calendar glowing with blocks of colour.

“The album will need a solid recording window,” she says gently. “Not rushed. You’ve earned that.”

I nod, absently.

“And the label is circling,” she adds. “They want another contract on the table before the year’s out.”

Of course they do.

I stare at my hands. “I don’t know what I want yet.”

She doesn’t push. That’s why I trust her.

“Okay,” she says. “Then we pause. Nothing gets locked in without you catching your breath first."

My phone buzzes and a name that makes me smile lights up my screen.

Sadie.

Her face fills the screen, and my chest loosens. But then I really look at her, she looks tired, and pale. There’s a shadow under her eyes that makes me sit up straighter.

“Hey,” I say softly. “How are you feeling?”

She smiles, but it’s thinner than usual. “I’m fine. Just… pregnancy stuff. You know.”

I don’t really, but I nod anyway.