Page 124 of Lucky 22

I step outside and lean against the railing beside him. “Youokay?”

He huffs a small laugh—not mocking, just honest. “I don’tknow. My brain keeps telling me I’m late for something. Or like I’m forgettingsomething huge. I keep waiting for someone to call and tell me to get on aplane.”

“Well…we were on a plane just yesterday,” I tease.

“You know what I mean. You and I have traveled together sooften, and it’s a completely different experience from traveling with a team.There’s an…energy that’s not there anymore.”

In my mind, it’s a good thing because our version is so muchmore relaxed, but I have to take into account how new this is to him.

“Okay, but,” I say, gently bumping his shoulder, “you get towatch me sign posters, take silly pictures with fans dressed as space rebels,and listen to people tell you how much they love Ashla and The Echo Wars.”

He smiles, and it reaches his eyes. There’s a softnessthere—and maybe a hint of gratitude.

“That does help,” he admits. “Being busy. Being part ofsomething. I enjoy seeing you do this. I enjoy being beside you for it.” Heglances down at his hands; flexes them like they’re still supposed to bewrapped around a bat. “It’s just…weird. Good weird. Scary weird. But weird.”

I slip my hand into his, threading my fingers through his,giving them a reassuring squeeze. “This is your first spring where you’re notat spring training. It’s going to feel weird. Baseball was your whole life forso long. It doesn’t just…stop being a part of your life. It’s who you are.”

He turns his head and studies me for a moment, then leans inand presses a slow kiss to my temple.

“I’m glad I’m here with you,” he whispers. “Even if I don’ttotally know who I am in this season yet.”

I squeeze his hand. “That’s okay. You don’t have to figureit out right away. There’s no rush. We’ll figure it out. Together.”

Below us, convention banners flap in the morning wind,promising crowds and laughter and chaos. I’m sure it’s both familiar anddifferent to him.

But his shoulder is warm against mine. His breath steady.

Maybe that’s our new rhythm.

It soon becomes our new normal, and eventually, I noticethat he’s more relaxed. Happier. At peace.

And his peace is contagious because I’m feeling it, too,even though my life is moving at a pace that’s fun, challenging, and fantastic.The fan response to The Echo Wars keeps growing, and being Ashla Vossis a full-time job. It’s so rewarding.

Over the next few months, Christian and I travel all overthe country, plus make stops in London, Germany, and Japan. I’m getting a lotof good press, and it’s both exciting and exhausting. The fans’ energy reallykeeps me going, but being able to experience it all with my husband is thebiggest blessing.

We decide to take a few weeks off in August, where we’re nottraveling anywhere. All we want is a staycation to sleep in our own bed, eat atour favorite local restaurants, and hang out with friends. That was my wish,and Christian has made it come true. Everyone who knows us knows how badly weneed this time to rest and regroup.

So, imagine my surprise when the phone rings at 8:45 onWednesday morning. Before I can even answer it, there is an almost continuouschime of notifications.

“What the…?” I sit up in bed and glance over at Christian,whose phone is chiming with notifications, as well.

“That can’t be good,” he murmurs as he rolls over and picksup his phone. I immediately think of his father. He had the kidney transplantand has been relatively healthy, but anything can happen.

But when I reach for my phone, I see it’s my new publicist,Nora, calling.

“Hey, Nora,” I say around a yawn.

“Ella! Did you see the announcement?”

“Um…what?” I’m still half-asleep.

“The Emmy nominations were announced this morning!” she saysexcitedly. “Click on the link I just sent you.”

I knew the announcements were happening today, but I didn’treally think anything of it. The Echo Wars haven’t been nominatedbefore, so I didn’t want to get my hopes up.

“Oh, my goodness, I can’t wait,” she huffs lightly. “Ella,you were nominated!”

“What?!” I say it so loudly that my poor husbandnearly falls out of bed. I frantically reach for him, our hands immediatelylinking. “I was nominated? Seriously?”