“You’re up in ten minutes. Get your ass out here.” Lenny’s voice vibrates off the bathroom door in the RV.

“Be there in a second.”

Just those few words cause me to wretch in the toilet. It’s mainly dry heaves mixed with bile. I can keep nothing down and I know it’s nerves. I haven’t been able to keep anything down lately. Everything has been turned upside down since I signed my fake name on that line and left the only people who actually loved me.

“Now,” Lenny screams, followed by pounding on the door.

“Okay…”

That one word does it, everything inside of me pours into the toilet I’m bent over. I will never eat another salad in my entire life. Fuck lettuce. I wipe my mouth with the back of my hand and then reach over and unlock the door. Lenny marches in, in her true fashion. Hands on her hip with disapproval clearly written on her face.

“Jesus, Shaynee, when are you going to quit this poor girl act?” Lenny digs around in her black leather purse. pulling out an orange bottle.

“I’m sorry.”

She slams three pills down on the counter. “Want to know who is not sorry? The fucking fans out there who’ve spent good money to see the rising star in country music. Take these and get your ass out here.”

She slams the door. I swear I hear the hinges rattling, threatening to fall off the fake wall. The pills on the counter silently yet so loudly scream my name. Lenny claims they’ll solve all my problems, but something is off.

I pick them up like always, rolling them in my palm. But what if they do help me? Take away the pain and sickness, and I move on. A window of time floats by with my decisions whirling in my mind. Thought after thought drifts by…what if they take me back to Hart?

I repeat the same action I’ve always done and let the three white pills sink down the drain. I adjust the tight fitting bra, crazy-ass new hair, and even brush the bags under my eyes. Megan will work her magic on my make-up, so no worries there.

I swing the door open and mad dog Lenny is there tapping the pointed tip of her high heel. Once she sees me, her response is to trot off the bus, and like the hopeless puppy I am, I follow her. The dull roar from the crowd making their way to their seats fills the air and then it’s radio DJ entertaining them.

It’s a rote action. I know the songs I’m demanded to sing and then half of the one original one I wrote. I should’ve made a stand when signing the contract, but Maria’s face was all that controlled the moment, and I’ll never regret that.

I hate the environment, despite the crowd, and even have come to hate singing. It’s all a show and nothing about my soul. I hate all of it to the point of puking and making myself sick.

The make-up is caked on and my wild mane fixed up into a faux hawk. The short leather shorts exposing my legs with skintight top. It’s nothing I liked, but what I’m forced to wear on the stage night after night.

Sound guys surround me while I adjust my guitar in front of me. It’s just a prop because I never really get to play it. A video portraying a small town girl plays before my entrance then I waltz on stage, rip the guitar off and then belt out the songs I’ve learned to hate. Despising music has killed my soul.

“Official business.”

Badges are flashed and more talking, but I’ve been trained to become mute to all the sounds. It carries on while everything is strapped to my body. Lenny is in my ear telling me everything I need to improve on. My stomach rolls, but the self-discipline I’ve learned to develop tamps it down.

It’s not until I hear two words that make me swivel on the city-slicker high boots I’m in.

“Savannah Ray.”

Two bearded men repeat the name over and over again. Is it the two men who set me on fire? The foster dad who raped me? Another leech wanting to take advantage of my success.

“Savannah Ray. We are here for her. We have suspicion that she’s being held against her will.”

Lenny whirls around and gives them her cold stone stare and then slices them with her tongue. “Get this trash out now. They weren’t approved, and nothing will affect this show.”

The two bearded men step in closer, not intimidated by Lenny. I admire their courage then remember the name they spoke, Hart.

“I’m…” I try, and the words catch deep down.

I step forward to the bearded men, trusting them because they spoke his name. I raise my hand high in the air, letting them know I’m Savannah. The next words make all of my actions come crashing down.

“I’m his Shug.”

My knees go weak, and they catch me. One of the bearded men begins speaking, but it’s all a blur. I’ve fallen into a dizzying darkness. I fight like hell to battle it, but the only thing that happens is me vomiting.

“Sweetie.” I hear a voice.

It’s just my imagination because the voice carries the same sensitivity as Peaches or Maria and they are a part of my long history. The voice continues to speak to me until my eyes finally flutter open. Two caring yet strange faces stare down at me. One has wild, crazy, curly and very frizzy hair like me. She’s the one to talk first.

“We are a part of Hart’s family. We came to get you for him. We won’t hurt you.”

“B-beard,” the one word tumbles from my lips.

The other one giggles but then speaks up. “Those were our husbands. They’re driving us. They met Hart in the service. They are like brothers.”

They both smile down at me and say their names…Gracie and Molly.

“Puke. I’m sick.” The car swerves to the side of the road and my stomach revolts.

Once I’m back in the car, the set of two caring eyes are back on me.

“How long have you been puking?” One of them asks.

“Since I lost Hart.” My eyes flutter shut, and I’m just thankful this is all over.

The next time I wake, the same two women are fluttering around me talking in hushed whispers about winning some bet when Hart would fall in love. I look down to see what I’m wearing, and I’m thankful they don’t notice the movement. I’m thankful the costume I’ve been forced to wear is removed. I relax back in the bed and sigh. Then panic hits me, and I bolt straight up out of bed.

Both of the women look over to me while I clutch my abdomen.

“Oh, sweetie, are you going to puke again?” One of them asks.

I can’t even begin to comprehend my thoughts. They dressed me, saw the scars and marred skin, and they’re only worried about me puking. None of it makes sense, confusing the hell out of me.

The door to the room bursts open and a frizzy-haired girl followed by another come running in arguing over burned cookies and who gets to pick a movie.

“Izzy.”

The little girl peers over at me.

She gasps then covers her mouth. “Princess.”

I wave weakly knowing exactly who she is.

“You are Hart’s.” Her eyes are full of pride and joy.

It takes everything inside of me to hold back my words telling her that he more than likely hates me.

“Yes, I am.”

She jumps up in the bed, curling her little body under the sheets and ignoring her mother’s protests.

“He loves you, but loves me more.” Her eyes twinkle with excitement. “Where is my Uncle Hart?”

I have no idea how to respond. The both of us love the same man, and I left him. I only hope one day he’ll understand my motives.

“Is he coming here since his princess is here?”

I shrug in confusion still trying to process the fact the two women who dressed me were only worried about me upchucking and not my scars.

Izzy shoves dolls in my face, making all my worries vanish. She ignores her mother while the other little girl asks if she can run through the mud and also lets her mother know that if there’s mud all over the car, it wasn’t her.

I listen and try to keep up with Izzy until my eyelids grow heavy and I fall asleep. I have no idea how much time passes, but when the sun shines through burning my eyelids, I pry them open. There’s still a little girl wrapped around my side. The threat of puking and anxiety is long gone.

I peer down to Izzy who is sealed at my side with one of her dolls. Her rhythmic breathing makes me relax, even though I know beyond a doubt I’m with his people.

None of it matters with Izzy holding me tight. Her tiny palm is splayed out across my abdomen. Her fingers twitch in her sleep. She’s making me feel beautiful just like Hart did.

Hart.

That one word brings tears to my eyes, even though these strangers have welcomed me into their home. Izzy’s breathing puts me right back to sleep.

Again, I have no idea how much time passes when I hear the next voices.

“I took real good care of her, Uncle. I slept with her all night long.”

“You did real good, baby girl.” The mattress dips and I finally open my eyes.

Izzy is next to me, sitting upright with crazy hair and excitement in her eyes.

“She is real pretty like you said. She’s not like those hookers in Vegas. I like her a lot.”

“Yeah.” His deep voice rumbles around the bedroom.

“But you still love me more, right, Uncle?”

“Always.”

Izzy’s body is moved from next to me, and then the bottom of the bed rustles in movement. I open my eyes even though they ache. The pain is worth it when I see the two wrestling together. Hart is pretending that Izzy has him pinned down. He ridicules her about her morning breath, telling her how stinky she is.

I manage to push up on the bed, relaxing against the headboard. The duo at the end of the bed doesn’t notice me. I watch them with a tug on my heart knowing I’ve lost this man forever with the choices I’ve made.

It’s a shock that nausea doesn’t hit me when I sit upright. A week after leaving Hart it struck me every single morning and throughout the day. The anxiety is gone, and the bonds of my prison broken…I feel free even if I never get the chance to be with the man who gave it to me all.

Izzy catches sight of me wide-awake. “Your princess. She’s awake.”

Izzy’s little body frantically squirms up to me until she’s straddling my lap and cupping my cheeks. “You’re pretty.”

Hart was kidding about her morning breath.

I nod, not able to form words.

“Want to meet the rest of our family? They’ll love you. They said Hart would never fall in love and I kept telling them about his Princess. Can I show them to you?”

The mattress moves again. I look over her shoulder to see Hart standing and tucking his hands in his front pockets. His eyes are exhausted and his man bun a mess on the top of his head. He has a light scruff peppering his face. Not one single sign of his old personality.

“Izzy, let her wake up.”

The sound of his deep voice sends chills down my spine.

I do what Hart taught me to have the courage to do. I nod my head answering yes, accepting yet another first. I’ve never met a house full of strangers who’ve seen me at my worst and still welcomed me in their house.

Before Izzy has a chance to squeal in delight, the door busts wide open with three more kids entering the room. The cutest little girl with brown hair comes marching in like she’s the boss of the world. She has mud all over her face and overalls.

“We’re going frog hunting then spearing the fish at the creek. Grandpa is taking us. Want to go?”

The kid has a no-nonsense bullshit kind of tone. I admire her dedication to being herself.

“No, Juliette, I’m staying with Uncle Hart.”

“Oh hey, Uncle Hart.” The little girl gives him a quick wave.

“Sup, Juliette.” He sends her a head nod.

We obviously don’t have much to offer them since the three kids march right back out of the room.

“C’mon, Shug. Time to meet the fam damily.” Izzy tugs on my hand.

Good Lord, this child has spent way too much time around Hart. This little girl is his spirit animal to a T.

When I stand up from the bed and gain my bearings, Hart scoops her up from the bed, giving me time to use the bathroom right off the bedroom. There’s a new toothbrush, clean clothes, and everything else you’d need to freshen up. I take advantage of all of it.

Izzy and Hart wait for me in the hallway. Each of them takes my hand, ushering me down the long hallway. Even though it’s Izzy chattering away, I look over to Hart. He’s staring right back at me with a tender and thankful look. I try to tell him how sorry I am.

He leans down right before we walk out the end of the hallway. “I love you, Shug, but if you ever sacrifice something like that again, I will beat your ass.”

I smile up at him, but don’t have the chance to respond before Izzy drags us out into an open kitchen. There are four bodies surrounding an island. They all look over to us. Izzy wastes no time scooting near Hart.

God bless Izzy who chatters away about me not being a hooker in Vegas and how pretty I am and that my breath stinks like hers in the morning. Her mom, or the woman I assume is her mother, scoops her up setting her on the island giving us some space.

None of them stare at me like I’m an odd science project. The men begin flipping Hart shit, and he smiles taking it all in. I notice they all have a matching Sponge Bob tattoo on their forearms. They’re connected somehow, that’s for sure.

“How did you sleep?” The other woman asks pulling out a burned tray of cookies.

I do my best to mask my cringe at the poor piles of coal.

“Good. Good. Thank you,” I whisper.

“Did you find all the stuff in the bathroom?” she asks, batting away the smoke. “I get distracted when baking, but I’m damn determined to get a batch right.”

The man with the biggest beard shakes his head but smiles lovingly at her.

“Yes, thank you.”

“You’re in luck. Molly can cook some mean eggs and sausage,” the man adds.

“Yes.” She claps her hands together. “Would you like some?”

My stomach growls on cue. Molly begins shoveling out food onto three plates. She places one in front of me along with a large glass of cold orange juice. She sets the other two in front of Hart. Izzy is glued to his back braiding his hair. He leans back on the island chatting away with the other guy, not giving a shit what the little girl is doing.

“This looks amazing. Thank you, Molly.”

I’m not lying, this compared to the nasty protein shakes Lenny practically shoved down my throat every single morning, this is heaven. The greasy sausage links and eggs topped with cheese are calling my name. All manners fly out the window as I shovel in the first three bites. I pick up my glass of orange juice to swallow down the food.

The overwhelming smell of oranges hits me hard, making my stomach turn. I set it back down, swallowing thickly.

“You okay?” Molly asks while the other woman, Gracie, stares at me.

“Yes, thank you.”

Jesus, Vannie, could you think of another phrase to use?

I try again to drink the juice, but the smell is too overwhelming. This time it’s too much to keep locked down.

“Bathroom,” I holler out in panic.

It’s like Molly read my mind. She grabs my hand, jogging back down the hallway. She busts through a room, and I see the toilet. Nausea hits powerfully, causing me to empty the contents of my stomach and more into it.

“Out, Hart.” Gracie shuts the door in his face.

The women remain a good distance back, yet are close enough for support. Molly sits on the edge of the tub with a worried look when I relax back on the wall.

“How long have you been throwing up?” Gracie asks.

“A good month.” I shrug. “I chalked it up to nerves.”

“I’ll be right back.” Molly jumps up from the side of the tub, running from the bathroom.

“What is she doing?” I point my finger in confusion.

“Who knows?” Gracie blows her bangs out of her eyes.

“This is embarrassing.” I cover my face.

“Honey, my daughter had the biggest breakdown of her life in this bathroom, making me feel like dirt. This is nothing.”

“Your daughter?” I ask.

“The one covered in mud.”

I nod knowing exactly who she’s talking about. Gracie proceeds to inform me how everyone knows everyone. Her high school sweetheart, who was Molly’s brother, and the rest of the men served together in the Army. Gracie is now with Cub and Molly with Guy who was her brother’s best friend.

“I’m confused. Where is this Amos?” I ask.

I regret the question once it leaves my mouth.

“He died in war.”

“I’m sorry.” I grab her hand. “I had no idea.”

She sends me a kind smile. “It’s okay. He has brought us all together. It’s all because of him. He’s quite persistent.”

“You run Hart’s old bed and breakfast, right?”

She nods. “It hasn’t been the same since he’s left.”

“I’ve hurt him,” I whisper.

Gracie doesn’t have time to reply because Molly busts through the door with a rectangular box in her hands. Gracie rolls her eyes at her. I’m sensing an inside joke.

Molly plops back down on the edge of the tub staring down at us. “You’re pregnant. Pee on this stick.”

The two girls go back and forth about the absurdity of me peeing on a stick. Pregnant? Can’t be. In the end, Molly wins out. She busts open the box and pulls out the elusive stick. The two women enthusiastically give me instructions on how to do it then they lay it flat on the counter. But the most important instruction is to knock on the door once finished.

I follow their instructions to perfection. It’s insane because Hart and I always used a condom. But I indulge in their request. I mean, after all, they’ve done so much for me, saving me from hell.

When I knock on the door, they bust back through and Molly sets a timer on her phone, obsessed with the test, while Gracie holds my hand offering comfort. The next words scare the loving shit out of me.

“I think we should go get Hart,” Molly breaks the silence.

“Why?” I ask.

“He needs to be in here,” she replies.

I have no idea where it comes from, but I blurt it out nonetheless. “Did you guys see my burns?”

“Yes,” they answer in unison.

You’d think I just asked them their favorite flavor of ice cream. Not one ounce of judging. Gracie flings the door open. Molly leans over with a grin covering her face and whispering in my ear.

“You’re pregnant, my dear.” She kisses my cheek then leaves the bathroom.

The tiny room threatens to swallow me whole. Hart enters moments later with his hands tucked in his pockets. I take a seat on the edge of the tub, mocking Molly’s earlier resting place.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

“Why?” he asks, not coming closer.

The words spew from me like the vomit has been doing. “He told me to sign, or he’d quit paying the hospital bills. He gave me seven days. The morning the ambulance took your mom to the hospital I knew I had to do it. I would do anything for you and Maria.”

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asks.

“You would’ve killed him.” I drop my gaze to my fiddling fingers. “I just wanted to give you all the time possible with your mom. I love you guys.”

I hear his bare feet slapping the floor grow closer, he then drops to his knees placing his hands on top of my legs. The look on his face when I make eye contact with him makes me feel like I’m home even though I know I’ve hurt him.

He reaches up, grabbing the half heart necklace I’m wearing, and remains silent for a long time. I nearly open my mouth to speak about ten times but don’t.

“Please, Shug, please never leave me again. Talk to me.”

Tears begin rolling. “I’m so sorry. I was just trying to do that right thing.”

“Did any of them hurt you?” he asks.

“No.” I shake my head confidently. “They made me hate singing.”

“She’s gone. She died in my arms.” He breaks down completely, dropping his head to my lap.

It’s natural instinct wrapping him up in my arms and laying my cheek on his back. I let him cry and just hold him.

“I never stopped loving you, Hart. Not one second passed by without you on my mind. It was your love that made me keep going.”

“Never leave me again,” he repeats, keeping his head in my lap. “I don’t care if you were trying to protect me, it destroyed me when you ran. I had no idea what in the hell happened to you. Mom’s sickness was a blessing in disguise keeping my mind off you leaving me.”

“Did you get my note?”

“Only two days ago, then I was on a mission to come for you.”

I pull his head up from my lap and stare into his eyes. “You are the one that taught me how to protect the ones you love. I did what I thought was best. I’d do it again just knowing your mom was given more time and her pain eased.”

I keep his cheeks in my hand and continue to talk. “I love you, Hart, and I get it if you can never forgive me. You are the only person that’s ever made me feel and for that my love will always be yours.”

“Shug.”

My spine stiffens hearing my nickname slip off his tongue. It may be the last time.

“I fell in love with you the night you knocked me off your barstool. It was fast and hard. You making a sacrifice for my mother is something my brain cannot even comprehend right now. I’d never fall out of love with you for that. Just never run again. I don’t exist without you.”

I really thought I’d felt loved before, but the harsh truth was I hadn’t. This is love. Forgiving, talking, and taking back. It’s at this moment this man has indeed given me the world.

“It’s time for another first,” I whisper.

“Makeup sex?” he asks with grief still thick on his face.

He’s sad and hurting, but the Hart I love is fighting to come out.

“No,” I shake my head side to side.

“What?” Confusion clouds his features.

“I’m pregnant.”

That knocks Hart back on his ass. He stares up at me blankly. In slow motion, the grief, sadness, and all traces of loss disappear in an instant. I pick up the stick on the back of the toilet and wave it at him.

“I’ve been puking non-stop and chalked it up to stress and anxiety. Molly insisted I should take a test. It’s positive.”

The happiness on his face transforms at a rapid rate.

“It’s yours, Hart. There was no one else,” I blurt out the words to reassure myself.

“Shug, I have no doubt.” A large smile covers his face. “A baby.”

He repeats the last two words over and over again.

“What are we going to do?”

Hart looks up at me with a puzzling look. “About?”

“Where are we going to live? Where does this leave us?”

He jumps up quickly, picks me up, and then sets me on the countertop. My legs spread for him as he steps in. It’s a natural reaction as I wrap my arms around his neck and our foreheads drop together. Hart reaches back behind his neck, lacing his fingers with mine. Connected as can be, he stares into my eyes.

“The open road used to bring comfort to my soul, but without you by my side it was torture. We are both lost souls who have found a connection. We make each other come to life. Our only plan is seeing where this journey takes us. My adventure has turned into a reality with you. Let’s be travellers in love on a journey building our future together.”

“I love you, Hart.”

Those are the only four words I can get out.

“How about another first?” He winks at me.

I raise my eyebrows in question.

“Bathroom sex in a friend’s house with my pregnant soul mate.”

I throw my head back and laugh the only way Hart Richards can make me. It seems like an eternity since I’ve felt this joy. No longer is it a foreign feeling, it’s normal. I deserve it.