Page 10 of Beneath a Tennessee Sky

“I overreacted,” I cut in quickly, wrapping my hands around my mug to hide their shaking. “This deal is huge, Jack. I do want this for you.”

He freezes mid-step, shoulders relaxing. “Yeah?”

“Yeah.” I force my lips into something resembling a smile. I’m not an actress but I’m going to put on what I hope is an Oscar-winning performance. “Tell me everything.”

And he does. His hands animate the air as he talks about recording studios and tour buses, meeting producers in Memphis, the album he’s been dreaming of making since he was sixteen. His voice gets that pitch it does when he’s excited about a new song, the one that makes his words tumble over each other. I watch his face light up and feel something inside me crack open.

“You’re really doing it,” I say when he pauses for breath. My voice sounds strange to my own ears—too calm, too measured.

He grins, that full-face smile that can still make my knees weak. “I’m really doing it.”

The silence between us stretches thin. My stomach is rolling. I put down the cup of coffee that’s still half-full. Words fail me. I dig deep, searching for my inner cheerleader.

“You’re not gonna try to talk me out of it?” Jack asks quietly.

I meet his eyes and force a smile. “Would it work?”

“Maybe.”

I swallow hard, fighting the urge to say yes, please stay, don’t go. I can feel my heart splintering. He’s waiting for me to give him a reason to stay, and every selfish part of me wants to grab that lifeline.

But I can’t. I won’t be that person.

“No,” I finally say, my voice calmer than I feel. “This is your shot, Jack. The one you’ve been waiting for. I won’t stand in the way of that.”

He studies my face like he’s trying to memorize it. “What about us?”

The question hangs between us. I want to throw my arms around him, beg him to take me with him, promise I’ll follow him anywhere. But I know better. I’ve seen enough of the world to know how these stories end.

“We’ll figure it out,” I say instead. “Memphis isn’t that far.”

“Eight hours,” he says. “Plus tours. Plus studio time.”

I nod, like this is all perfectly reasonable. “People do long distance all the time.”

“You’d wait for me?” There’s something vulnerable in his tone.

“I don’t think we have to make any plans right now,” I say. “Do you know when you’re going?”

He grins. “Nope, but I’m about to find out.”

He pulls out his phone and before I can process what’s happening, he’s dialing. “Liz? Yeah, it’s Jack. Jack Hayes. We met the other night.” My spine goes rigid. She’s on his speed dial already. He smiles at me as she talks. I can’t hear what she’s saying, but judging by his growing smile, it’s good. “Yeah, I’m in. Let’s do it.”

I turn toward the window, pretending to watch the birds and not eavesdrop. That’s impossible give we’re standing three feet apart. “Next week?” Jack says. The words hit me like a physical blow. Next week. Seven days. “Perfect.”

My vision blurs. I quickly blink to keep myself from crying. I have to be strong. I have to push him toward his dream. I can’t hold him back.

“Email me the details.” There’s a pause, then a laugh—her laugh. My nails dig half-moons into my palms.

He ends the call and turns back to me, practically vibrating with excitement. “I’m leaving next Thursday. She’s sending me flight details and arranging an apartment for me.”

“An apartment?” I manage to keep my voice steady. “That’s...generous.”

“It’s part of the deal,” he says. “A place to crash while I record. Then there’s talk of a small tour to build buzz before the album drops.”

My head spins. Thursday. Seven days from now, he’ll be gone. “Wow. That’s fast.”

“Yeah.” He runs a hand through his hair. “It’s all happening so quick. I can’t believe it.”