As I waited in the dressing room for the rest of the band, I gingerly opened the white envelope with the burnt orange seal in the corner. In the seven days since Mel had walked out of my life, I’d avoided anything that might disrupt the scab on the wound she left behind.

Since I’d also given up checking my email, going to the library, and showering unless completely necessary, I didn’t find the invitation for her graduation until this morning.

The event was taking place tonight at the Erwin Center, but I already knew that. 

Pulling the heavy parchment from the envelope, I ran a finger over the embossed school seal featured proudly at the bottom. 

The cushions sank under Cameron’s weight as he plopped on the couch next to me.

“What’s that?” He propped his feet on the worn table before snatching the invitation from my grasp. Glancing over the loopy inscription, he smiled. “Impressive. Does this mean you’re going?”

“We’re not seeing each other anymore,” I snapped, plucking the card from his hand. “Why the hell would I go?”

“Dude, stop being so defensive. I just thought you were into the chick. My bad.”

“I was.” I am. “She’s the one that broke it off.”

“That’s probably the best thing,” he eyed me suspiciously, “since you let her.”

Sliding a hand through my greasy hair, I gripped the strands at the base of my neck. “I didn’t ‘let her’ do anything. If a girl wants to jet, it’s her choice.”

“Keep telling yourself that, bro.” Cameron chuckled. “We’ll see how it works out for you.”

It took all my restraint not to wring his neck. A few months ago, Cameron would’ve been urging me to join him at a strip club to get over this little bump in the road. Not encouraging me to prolong the agony.

“Let me ask you something, Dr. Phil,” I said dryly. “Have you ever thought about what’s going to happen when something goes south with Lily?”

The motherfucker chuckled. He actually laughed.

“When? That’s mighty cynical.” He patted my knee. “But, no, I don’t think about that. It’s not going to happen.”

“Today—it’s not going to happen today.”

I shook my head. Reasoning with people like Cameron never got me very far, but hey, I was willing to try.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I let out a sigh and then began, “Over fifty percent of marriages end in divorce. And I’d venture to say the other fifty percent are just like my parents. They stay together out of habit. We’re not even talking about people just casually dating, so—”

“Is that what y’all were . . . casual?” Cameron cocked his head, truly interested in my response.

Mel and I spent every day together. Casual wasn’t a word I’d use. “No, we weren’t casual, but—”

“‘But’ nothing.” His hazel eyes darkened with irritation. “I’ve heard all your statistics and bullshit theories.” I raised a brow and he softened. “Let’s say it’s all true. Every word of it. I still want you to think about one thing.”

Tamping down my exasperation, I waited for whatever inane argument Cameron was about to make.

“Have you ever thought about how many bands out there—good bands—struggle to get a song on the charts?” he asked, a smug smile curving his lips. “Millions.”

Rolling my eyes, I wondered where the train went off the tracks.

“What’s your fucking point, Cameron?”

Please, God, let there be one.

“We did it.” Gazing around at the framed magazine covers and other accolades, Cameron shrugged, and then turned that smug smile back in my direction. “That one in a million thing? Ain’t no step for a stepper. You just gotta believe.”

Some of Lily’s brainpower must’ve rubbed off on the dude, because he was actually making sense. Either that, or I was grasping at straws.

When Cameron arched a brow, waiting for my response, I conceded, “Well, yeah, I guess we did.”

“So if that’s the case,” he continued, settling back against the cushions. “What makes you so fucking sure you can’t make a go of it with Mel?”

“I didn’t say we couldn’t make it. I said the odds—”

Cameron rolled his eyes in exasperation. “What the fuck do the odds have to do with it? Even if the odds were ninety percent that Lily and I would blow up, I’d take the bet. You know why?” I shook my head, even though I suspected I already knew what he was going to say. “Because one day with Lily is worth the price. Even if you told me there were a thousand days of misery in my future, I’d take those twenty-four hours.”

I blanched inwardly when I thought about the last seven days. If I had to endure a thousand more, I wouldn’t make it.

“That’s you,” I said quietly. “This time next month, I won’t even remember what she looked like.”

Cameron studied my lying face for a moment before slowly rising from his seat. “Well, there you go.” He leaned down to pat my shoulder, a smirk tilting his lips. “What’s her name is obviously not the right chick for you or it wouldn’t be that easy.”

“Her name is Melody,” I grumbled. “And there is no ‘right chick’ for anyone.”

“Whatever you say.”

With a skeptical eye, I watched Cameron stroll to the fridge, looking for any chinks in his armor. Any sign that he was fooling himself. I mean, the guy used to bang groupies two at a time and party his face off until dawn almost every night.

“Do you miss it?” I blurted, regretting the question when he spun around with that carefree smile.

“Miss what?”

“Everything. The parties, the clubs.” I raised a brow. “The threesomes.”

He barked out a laugh. “Have you seen my girl? Fuck, dude, there’s nothing to miss. I got it all.”

Closing my eyes I let my head fall to the back of the couch. Cameron reclaimed his seat and then knocked me with his elbow. “You want some Chinese? I’m placing an order.”

My stomach turned at the thought of food. “I’m good.”

And now I was flat out lying. I wasn’t close to being good. I hadn’t had an hour of good in seven days.

The door swung open and I threw my arm over my face, hoping whoever it was would leave me alone until rehearsal.

I jerked, my eyes popping open when a boot met my shin.

Chase Noble, Cameron’s brother, stood over us, glaring. I’m assuming from the way Cameron was rubbing his leg, his shin got the same treatment.

“This place gets filthier every time I come in here,” Chase complained. “The cleaning crew is starting to complain. Get off your asses and grab a trashcan.”

Since Chase owned the club, and was technically our boss, his look of reproach should’ve carried more weight. But I’d known the guy since I was fifteen.

Reluctantly, Cameron and I pushed to our feet and began to tidy up, while Chase took a seat at the desk in the corner.

“Did the band ever agree on which charity they wanted to sponsor for the Christmas event?” he asked offhandedly as he sorted through some mail.

Cameron examined the contents of a pizza box, grimacing. “Just so long as it’s not breast cancer again. We don’t need to give Logan another opportunity to provide his ‘free examinations.’” 

Chase leaned back in the rickety chair, crossing his long legs at the ankle.

“We raised fifty grand that night,” he said, leveling a wry smile in Cameron’s direction. “And those ‘exams’ Logan offered? They weren’t free. The women all contributed a sizable donation to participate.”

Cameron wrinkled his nose. “So you don’t care if Logan gropes women for money?”

Chase laughed. “Before Lily, you fondled plenty of women. And the only cause you were worried about was your own. Logan’s idea was actually—”

“Totally self-serving,” Cameron retorted. 

While the brothers debated the merit of Logan’s fundraising abilities, I ambled over to the desk. Picking up the flyer, I scanned the list of charities, my eyes flickering over the seal for the American Diabetes Association. 

I nudged the chair to get Chase’s attention. “Does the charity have to be on this list?”

“No. Those are just a few of the more reputable organizations.” He laced his fingers behind his head, appraising me. “Why? You got something better in mind?”

“I might.” I folded the flyer and then tucked it away in my back pocket. “How long did you say we have to decide?

“A couple days, give or take.”

“I’ll let you know.” Grabbing my backpack, I headed for the door. “Don’t commit to anything before I get back to you.”

In the parking lot, I slid behind the wheel of my truck and then pulled out my phone. I scrolled through the list of contacts from Mel’s study group, frowning when I came upon the name I was looking for.

My finger hovered over the text icon, but instead, I swallowed my pride and placed the call.

“Mitchell, this is Christian.” Without waiting for a reply, I added, “Don’t hang up. I need to talk to you about a fundraising event.” 

Standing in the shadows in the back of the Erwin Center, I waited for an hour while graduates walked the stage to collect their diplomas.

When the dean got to the “S’s,” I made my way down the outer aisle, heading for the tiny figure in the wheelchair two rows from the front.

As each name echoed in the auditorium, a chorus of cheers resounded from the audience. My heart sank when I knelt beside Mel’s nana and saw the look of anticipation in her eyes, knowing she couldn’t voice her pride. 

 “Mo.” I tapped her shoulder. “It’s Christian, Melody’s friend.” I maneuvered in front of her, careful not to block the stage. Though her face bore no emotion, the smile in her eyes warmed my insides. “Look, I just wanted to—”

The woman seated to Mo’s right leaned forward, her features cloaked under the dim lights. “Can I help you?”

“I’m a friend of Melody’s.” I took a small blue box from the pocket of my jacket. “I’m just here to drop off a gift. It’s actually from Mo. I picked it out, though.”

“And you are?” Curiosity piqued the woman’s tone. 

“Christian.” I smiled tightly at the couple in front of us who’d twisted in their seat to offer me an admonishing glare. “I’m not staying.” 

I gave the caregiver a polite nod before placing the tiny box on the blanket covering Mo’s lap. “Give this to Mel for me, will you?” 

Mo’s green eyes locked on mine, and she blinked twice. I patted her hand as I stood.

My feet grew roots when I caught sight of Mel on the stage in her cap and gown.

I thought of holding my ground, standing proud so she’d know I was there.

Instead, I shrank against the wall and held my breath. Hearing her name, I let out a whoop and clapped loud enough to drown out the smattering of perfunctory applause from the strangers. 

Mel took her diploma, her gaze flitting over the crowd.

I’m here, angel.

She didn’t notice me lurking, but the brilliant smile that lit her face when she found her nana was worth the price of admission, even though I could feel my chest constricting with every breath. It was like she was stealing my air, tucking it away with everything else she took when she left.

Still, I paused for a moment to watch Melody glide down the steps. When she took her seat, I lost her in the sea of burnt orange caps. So I turned on my heel and powered toward the exit, chased away by the scent of autumn that was sure to engulf me if I waited a second longer.