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“Great.” I sigh and rub my hands over my forehead. “That’s just great. Well, you know I had to miss Chloe’s birthday.”
“Which was fabulous, by the way,” Dad says. “You did a wonderful job planning that party.”
“It was the talk of the town,” Lexi adds. “I’ll let you plan the kids’ next birthdays.”
I look up in surprise. “You’d let me do that?”
“Of course.” She frowns. “I mean, if you want to.”
“I would like that,” I whisper, embarrassed to be getting emotional. “I was so sorry that I had to miss it. I wanted to come home for it more than anything. But things were crazy, and the show got scheduled without me knowing about it. I fired Susan, by the way.”
Dad’s eyebrows climb in surprise. “She’s been your manager since the Small Town Girl album.”
“And now, she’s not,” I say with a shrug. “She effed up, and there’s no recovering from it for me. I can’t trust her.”
“Then you did the right thing,” Lexi says, surprising me again. Is this my sister? The one who can’t stand me?
“Thanks. Well, I didn’t have time to text or call at all that day, and it pissed Tucker off something fierce. By the time I was able to talk to him late that night, he basically told me he wants way more from me than being an afterthought. That he needs to come before my career, or else he’s out.”
“He said that?” Dad asks.
“That’s the CliffsNotes version. And I haven’t talked to him since then. I’ve texted a couple of times, but he replied with just one word, and that made me feel worse than not hearing anything from him at all, so I stopped. I don’t know what he wants from me.”
“More,” Dad says simply. “Sounds to me like he wants you, not all the pomp and circumstance that comes with you.”
“I’m a package deal, just like he and Chloe are a package deal. I love her. I would never ask him to choose me over her.”
“A career and a child are hardly the same things.” They’re Lexi’s words, but her tone is soft, not accusing or mocking. She’s just participating in the conversation. This is the sister I need in my life.
“I understand that,” I say. “I do. It’s just… I’ve worked my ass off to be where I am with this job. Why should I be the one to give everything up?”
“He’s worked hard, too,” Dad reminds me. “For his job and raising his daughter by himself. You’re not the only one who works hard. He’s sacrificed a lot for that little girl.”
“I’m not saying I’m the only one who works hard.” I shake my head again, feeling misunderstood. “I’m just saying that it seems that we should both compromise, not just me. And you don’t have to talk to me about sacrifice, Dad. I’m intimate with it. Hell, I feel like I invented it. I’ve missed so much of my family’s lives because of my career. I don’t have a relationship with my sister,”—I point to Lexi, whose eyes fill with tears—“because of my career. So, we can all agree that sacrifice is just a part of life, and compromise is a given when it comes to working through issues with someone you love.”
“I agree with you there,” Lexi says. “I mean, relationships are all about compromise, and maybe that’s something I haven’t been very good at when it comes to our relationship. We’ll come back to that later. But I have no suggestions for you with Tucker because your career is in Nashville, and his is here. His daughter’s community is here. Everything they know and love, aside from you, is here.”
“It’s impossible.” I look at both of them, waiting for them to disagree, but they don’t. “There’s no way to make this work. It’s just…done.”
I hear Tucker’s door slam next door, and I stand. “Might as well get this over with.”
“Maybe you should take some time to calm down,” Dad suggests, but I shake my head.
“It’s like yanking off a Band-Aid.” I push out of the front door, then march down the steps and over to Tucker’s house. I knock on the door. Tucker’s eyes light up when he sees me on the other side, and, God, I want to launch myself into his arms. I want to tell him that I’m sorry, beg for his forgiveness, and rip off his clothes.
But what’s the point?
We can’t make this work.
“Hey, Scar. I wasn’t expecting you.” He steps back, letting me inside. “Chloe’s at Jenny’s.”
He blinks like he doesn’t know why he said that, but I’m glad he did because I’d rather not do this in front of a twelve-year-old.
“That’s okay,” I reply stiffly and stand inside the door. “I won’t keep you long.”
“What are you talking about? When did you get to town?”
