"Did you say wife?" Jerry, our manager, asks.

I nod. "Yep. Got married on Christmas."

He blows out a frustrated breath and runs his hand over his balding head. "No, no, no. This isn't good."

"What do you mean?" Jesse asks as we pass another car. This bus driver is wicked.

"You guys are new. You're young. You're supposed to be available for these women and girls to go crazy over. If you're married, they're going to have an issue. That's going to put a dent in your popularity," he replies.

Jesse folds his arms. "Too fucking bad, man. He's married."

"I'm not saying he can't be married, I'm saying maybe we should keep it a secret. Just for now, until the end of this tour."

I give him a glare. "I don't like this. Tera's not going to like it either. And how the fuck are we supposed to keep an entire town quiet about this? What you're asking is something I don't want to do and it's probably not even possible at this point," I growl, not bothering to hide my annoyance.

"Fuck this," Linc says.

"Calm the hell down," Ethan tells Linc, grabbing his arm to stop him from launching at Jerry.

"I'm not trying to piss you off. I'm trying to help get you as big as you can be."

"Fuck you," I answer. "I'm not going to run and announce it to the world but I'm sure as fuck not going to hide it either. If you have a problem with that, fucking sue me."

Jerry opens his mouth to say something else and Jesse cuts him off. "Quit while you're ahead."

Fuck him. Fuck this.

I look at Jesse and he looks at me. He's not happy either. When Jerry makes his way to the restroom, I lean forward.

"When we get a chance, I'm gonna talk to Cage about this fucker and his bullshit. How is my being married going to hurt the entire band? I'm one guy. You all are single. This is fucking bullshit," I snarl.

Jesse nods. "I hear you, man. We'll call Cage when we get to where we're going."

"Good," I reply. I'm proud that Tera is my wife. I'm not hiding her from anyone unless she asks me to. No one else matters but her.

* * *

New Year's Eve came and went. The party we played was a success. Cage said we didn't have to keep the marriage a secret, but when I talked to Tera she said maybe we should. It wasn't for the reasons Jerry brought to the table. Her reasons were for her safety and privacy and I never even considered that until then. I don't like it, but for now, our marriage is on the down low.

* * *

It's the third week in January, four weeks on the road, when Tera calls me out of the blue. We have set times that work best for both of us, so my first thoughts are something bad happened.

"Tera?" I answer. We're on stage, getting ready to do sound check for our concert tonight and it's loud.

"Xan!" she shouts.

"What's going on? Is something wrong?" I ask, plugging my non-phone ear with my index finger.

"No, just the opposite. I won! I won the art competition!" she squeals.

Pride fills my chest and a genuine smile pulls across my face. "That's fucking amazing, babe! What happens now?"

"Now I have to go to Los Angeles to accept the award and bring a portfolio of all of my completed works so they can choose which ones they want to feature in a showing!" Tera squeals again.

"That's fantastic, T. So, this means you got the art scholarship to NYU?"

"Yes! And guess what else?"

"What?" I can't stop grinning. Her excitement is infectious.

"Shea won for her sculpture! She's going to be going with me."

"No shit. That's cool as hell, babe!"

"I know, right? I won't have to be all alone in a school full of art nerds," she says with a giggle.

"I hate to tell you, Tera, you are an art nerd," I say and she gasps.

"I so am not."

"You are."

"Am not."

"Are too."

She growls. "You are such a brat."

"But you love me."

"I do. So much. God, how I wish you were here with me for this," she says, then sighs. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't say things like that. I don't want you to feel guilty."

"Tera. You can say anything you want. I agree with you. I wish I were there with you right now, too. I wish you'd been there on New Year's for that private party. It was one of the highlights of this tour, just like this is the highlight of your career. Never feel you can't tell me everything, okay?" I console.

"Okay. Same goes for you."

"You know it. Now tell me, when do you go to LA?"

"Two weeks from Monday."

"I'm going to see if I can be there. I can always fly out and fly back in time for the show. We don't have shows on Mondays," I tell her. I fucking want to be there so bad. I want to see my girl accept the award she more than deserves.

"I love you so much, Xan."

"I love you, too, Tera. I miss you like fucking crazy. I wish we had just one night off on the weekend so you could come out for even a day."

"I would love that. Remember, spring break isn't far off and you should be back here by then. We can go away for a week somewhere, just the two of us."

"That sounds fucking perfect."

"I need to go, Xan. Mr. Perkins is giving me the evils."

"Okay, baby. We still gonna talk tonight?" I ask.

"Absolutely. See you on Skype, my love."

"See you then."

I set the phone down, hating the ache in my chest. I am missing out on so much of her life right now. I would have loved to have been there when she was told she won. I can see her face in my mind. Shock. Surprise. Happiness, with a few tears.

This also means I'm going to see less of her than the every other weekend we've got going on now. Fuck. This blows.

"You done wallowing so you can tell us the good news?" Jesse prods, and my grin comes back, as does the pride.

"You guys are gonna love this…"

* * *

"What the fuck do you mean I can't go? That's my wife and this is the biggest night of her life," I shout.

"What the fuck is going on?" Jesse asks, stepping onto the bus.

"Jerry, here, won't let me go to Tera's event tomorrow," I growl.

"Why the fuck not?" Jesse asks.

Jerry shifts uneasily. I'm the most laid back of all the guys as far as demands go, so I know he's not shifting because of me. He's afraid of Jesse and he fucking damn well should be. Jesse is a force to be reckoned with lately. There is no boy left in him. None. That shit is history.

"We have interviews lined up," Jerry says. "There's no getting out of them. I tried, man. I called the boss but these are big ones at major radio stations. As soon as those are over, we're grabbing a plane to go to NYC for the night. We've got another interview on Good Morning America the next morning."

Jesse runs a hand through his hair. "Christ." He paces. "There's no way he can skip the radio shit and meet us in New York?"

Jerry shakes his head. "That's a no-go according to management."

"I want to fire our fucking manager, Jesse. He's a worthless fuck who throws all this shit at us at the last minute."

Jerry sighs and nods. "I don't work for them, I only work with them. I work for the record company—just so you don't want to fire me, too. I only do what I'm told, guys. I'm sorry."

With that, he walks off the bus, leaving me and Jesse standing there.

"This fucking sucks, Jesse. This is huge for Tera." My anger has reached new levels, that even my ears are hot. I want to beat the fuck out of someone.

"This management is part of the show we won. We have to put up with this kind of shit for the next year and then we're free to find our own. Until then, I guess we're their puppets," Jesse says with a sigh, taking a seat in one of the chairs.

I plop down across from him, slouching. "I don't know if she'll ever forgive me for this, man. Think it's a breach of contract if I just bail on the radio shit and then fly to New York? I'd fucking do it on my own dime."

I'm grasping at straws. I know it and so does Jesse. He looks at me helplessly and shakes his head.

"I don't think that's a good idea. If there was any fucking way I could get around that for you, you know I would."

"I know," I sigh.

"We can find out if you can get there Tuesday or Wednesday. I'm pretty sure she'll still have some of her art up in the gallery and you can celebrate with a night away. Champagne, candlelight, a nice dinner, and some good fuckin' should help if Tera gets too pissed. I don't think she will though, man. She gets it. We've got obligations," Jesse explains.

"And now she does too, which means who the fuck knows when we'll see each other next," I bite out. "This isn't making me warm and fuzzy. I love playing, man, you know I do. I love the touring. I love everything about what we're doing right now, but goddamn it, she's my wife and I'm missing out on a major milestone. This is the start of her career. She stood by us through ours, and now none of us will be there for hers." I sit in silence for a few minutes. "Totally fucking sucks."

"It does, man. I'm fucking exhausted with all the running around they've got us doing. I'm not even up for partying after the shows coming up. We'll be at a hotel since we've got a two-night gig and I'm gonna sleep every fucking minute we're not working," Jesse informs me.

"That's the best idea I've heard today," I answer. "If I could get to LA and back in the time between shows, I'd go without sleep. But I can't. If it were in Chicago, it'd be a breeze. St. Louis is a short jump north."

"It'll work out, Xan. Just call her and tell her what's going on. Tell her how you feel about it—all of it. Just exactly as you told me. Don't try to pretend it isn't killing you not to go. She'll need to see that shit with this. I know you hide that from her when you two talk, but this time don't. Just… be raw," he says.

I nod and tip my head back, looking out the window of the bus. It's a warm, sunny, cloudless day.

"How can such a beautiful day be filled with so much bullshit…"