I toss the phone down in frustration after texting Garrett for what feels like the millionth time today. He’s been distant the last two days, staying at his own place instead of having our now regular “sleepovers”, which have progressed to him sleeping in my bed because, as we’ve told Ty, “Mommy’s bed is the biggest, and Garrett’s back hurts when he sleeps on the sofa.”

Ty’s taken it all in stride, coming into my room in the mornings and waking Garrett before he wakes me so they can share Cocoa Krispies or some other sugary treat together. I know it’s not the best way to start Ty’s day—the nutrition police would be horrified—but he and Garrett have bonded over it and I don’t want to interrupt that process.

I know Garrett’s had some work issues to deal with, so I’ve been trying to give him that space, but I’m getting impatient now. There are some decisions that need to be made about suppliers at the bar and while I could make them unilaterally, he’s nearly an equal partner, plus the man I’m sleeping with, so I feel I need to include him.

There’s a knock at my door and I run to answer it, hoping it’s finally Garrett. But instead my sister stands there, a slight scowl on her little face, curly black hair rioting around her head.

“Hey!” I say, stepping aside so she can come in.

“Hey.” She walks in, peering around the corner into the living room. “Ty at school?”

“Yeah, for another hour. Do you want something to drink?” I ask as I head toward the kitchen where we usually spend all our time.

“No, I’m good.”

She takes her normal seat at the kitchen counter and I get out a pitcher of lemonade, pouring her a glass even though she says she doesn’t want one. She takes it from me and drinks, probably not even aware she’s doing it. I stifle the grin that wants to take over my face. I’ve been Tully’s big sister for a very long time. I think sometimes I know her better than she knows herself.

“So, what’s up?” I ask, pouring my own glass of lemonade before putting the pitcher away in the fridge.

She looks at me, her eyes crinkling a touch. “Have you talked to Garrett about the tour?” she asks, bluntly.

I swallow. Tour. My heart lodges somewhere south of my chest and I blink for a moment. “Uh, no. What tour?”

Tully sighs. “Goddamit, I told Blaze this was what’s going on.”

My breathing picks up pace. “So what is going on?”

“The band is scheduled to go on a four-month tour starting in a few weeks.”

I can’t stop the small gasp that jumps out of me. Four months. My heart continues its dive to the bottom of my stomach.

“Garrett isn’t sure he can do it—” she pauses. “Isn’t sure he even wants to do it, so the entire band is waiting on him to make a decision.”

“And if he says no…?”

Her expression grows dark. “If he says no they’ll have to get a new singer. Rhapsody won’t be Rhapsody anymore.”

I’m afraid to ask the next question, but I have to, and the words are out of my mouth before I can stop them anyway.

“Why doesn’t he want to go?”

Tully’s mouth goes hard, her lips in a firm line. “You need to ask him that.” Then she stands and takes one last gulp of the lemonade. “I just came to tell you that you need to get him to talk to you about it. I knew he hadn’t, because I knew I’d have heard from you by now if he had.”

I nod, following her to the door.

“I’ll try to get him to talk about it.”

“Please do that,” Tully says, that same grim expression still on her face. “I know he’s dealing with a lot, but he’s holding the fate of the other guys in his hands right now, and they deserve an answer. They have to know if they need to move on to something new—something different.”

She does a good job of conveying the magnitude of it all, because by the time she’s left, I’m terrified Garrett is about to make the one mistake I made when I first fell in love as a teenager—ignoring his dreams to fit into someone else’s. If I’m right, he’s about to jettison his entire career to stay here with Ty and me, and I can’t let him do that.

* * *

I finally track him down at the bar where he’s in the back office with Danny, listening to a description of our supplier woes.

“Hey,” I say as I walk into the small space and hang my purse on the hook behind the door.

“Hey,” Danny says, scooting aside so I can stand next to him in front of the desk where Garrett is seated. “I was just explaining the problem to Garrett and laying out the options.”

I glance at Garrett, who looks stressed and somber.

“Yeah, I’ve been trying to reach you all day so we could discuss this,” I say softly.

He nods, and I look at Danny. “Can you give us a few and we’ll figure this out then let you know?”

“Sure thing,” he answers, moving to the door. “Just so you know, the guys in California can get the first shipment here in a week. The place in Nevada will be a little quicker.”

“Great, thanks, Danny.”

He closes the door behind him and I stand looking at Garrett, who leans back in the old desk chair that Kevin tipped back so many times the mechanism allowing it to tilt wore out. It’ll still tip back, but it does it with a jerk and a loud click, neither of which seem to bother Garrett. Kevin hated it.

When his eyes finally meet mine, I see turmoil there, and I know I have to do what I can to alleviate that for him.

“Tully came by,” I skip right to the point. “She told me what’s been going on—with the band.”

His gaze darts to mine and he sighs. “She shouldn’t have done that. I was going to talk to you, I just needed to get my head clear before I did.”

“And is it?” I ask. “Is it clear now?”

He chuckles bitterly. “Not so much.”

“Let me help then,” I say as I walk around the desk and kneel on the floor in front of him. I rest my arms on his knees and watch his beautiful face and serious green eyes. “You have to go.”

He jerks slightly in the old chair. “What?”

“On tour. You have to go.”

“What if that’s not what I want?” he asks.

“It is,” I answer, confident that anyone who’s put as much time into a career as he has would never want to let it go over a girlfriend. “I know it is because you love your job and you love your friends, and you didn’t spend the last ten years sacrificing everything simply to quit because you’ll miss me.”

He laughs, but it’s bitter and I feel slightly sick.

“You have this all figured out, I see.”

I rub my hand along his thigh, trying to show him how much I love him, how much I care, how I’m willing to put my own feelings aside so he makes the right choice for him—so he doesn’t repeat the mistakes I made, the ones that were slowly tearing apart Kevin and I.

He pins me with his gaze. “I don’t think you understand what this means.” He shakes his head slowly. “It’s four months. Me on the road the entire time, a different city every day or two.” His voice drops in volume and pitch. “It means Skyping in the middle of the night because that’s when I’m awake and done with work for the day.”

“That’s fine,” I tell him. “I'm flexible. Mostly because you’ve set up the bar so well I can come and go when it works for me.”

“It means groupies, Savvy.” His eyes grow serious. “It means women trying to get with me—on buses, planes, backstage. And drugs, and parties, and alcohol everywhere. It’s not a fucking cotillion, it’s a rock tour, and there’s shit everywhere even if my band isn’t the one that brings it.”

I swallow, my heart beating hard. Everything in me is screaming to throw my arms around him and never let him leave. But I know I can’t do that. I can’t bear the idea of waking up five or ten years from now and having him look at me the way I was looking at Kevin the last year we were together. I can’t be the anchor weighing him down, pulling him away from the life he wants. And as much as I also don’t want to be the ‘wind beneath his wings’ as Bette would say, I know I have to be, for him. I have to help him do what he wants and pray I don’t get my poor heart broken in the process.

“Will you keep going to meetings and working your steps?” I ask.

“Of course.” He reaches out and touches my hair gently. His eyes are so sad I can barely breathe.

“Then it’ll all be fine. I trust you, Garrett. I know how hard you’ve worked to get this thing under control.” I turn my face into his palm. “And I can come see you a few times so you don’t forget what we’ve been building here.”

“And what about Ty?”

“You’ll Skype with him too. He’ll miss you, but he’ll be fine and it’s only for a few months.”

“He’ll forget me.”

I clear my throat to keep from bursting into tears, his voice sounds so terribly forlorn. “He’s older now,” I say, referring to the way he’s forgotten Kevin. “And you won’t be gone, just on a computer screen. Family and friends go out of town all the time, kids don’t forget them.”

He nods and I can see the resignation in his eyes. It kills me, but I know it’s for the best. It’s the only choice he can make.

“So this is what you want?”

“It’s what you want,” I answer. “It’s your career. You’ve been putting me and the bar first for so long. We’ve had our turn, it’s time for you to focus on other parts of your life now.”

He leans forward then and presses his lips to my forehead gently. “Okay, baby, if you think it’s best, then I’ll go.”

Something in his voice feels like a hell of a lot more of a goodbye than four months, but I ignore it, stubbornly clinging to the memories of all those years I spent at the mercy of Kevin’s life choices, and my own inability to speak up for myself. I’ve spoken up for Garrett now, and that helps make up for what I couldn’t do for me.

He pushes back in the rolling chair a touch before standing. I stand as well, gazing up at him. He doesn’t meet my eyes.

“The new distributor,” he says without a transition. “I don’t see a lot of difference between them, so maybe you want to go with the quicker one.” He gives himself a small shake, almost as if he’s trying to shed something, and then his eyes meet mine and for one small moment I see something so raw and pained in them I doubt my choice. But then his gaze goes flat and he gently moves me aside so he can step toward the door. A pang shoots through my chest at his dismissal, but I tell myself it’s what he has to do—disengage some so he can focus on getting prepared to leave.

“I need to go talk to Blaze and the rest of the band,” he says. “They’ve been waiting for me to make this decision, so we’ll need to get everything together fast now.”

I nod and paste on a smile. It feels wooden and stiff. “Okay. Do you want to get together tonight after you’re done?”

He turns back from the door and steps toward me, one hand cupping the back of my skull. “I’ll let you know,” he says softly before kissing me chastely on the forehead.

Then he’s gone.

And I’m afraid he just took my heart with him.