Prologue
Landon
“I’LL COME BACK TO YOU, no matter what, Whiskey.” The nickname she uses for me slips through her full, pale-pink lips I love so much.
In less than twenty-four hours, she’ll be on a plane to New York City, leaving Mason, Texas behind . . . and me. I refuse to stand in the way of her dreams and be the reason why she’s giving up a chance to become more. This is what she wants to do and because I love her I want everything for her. Even if that means we’ll be apart.
“Ashley, this is your moment,” I explain, holding her tighter. “We’ll make it through the long distance. Our love is true and it can get through everything. I don’t want you worrying when you’re gone. I’m not going anywhere.”
“Just hold me, Whiskey. Hold me until the sun rises. All I want to do is be in your arms and fall asleep with you then wake up to your handsome face in the morning. Tonight, let’s not say our goodbyes. Let’s never say goodbye. That word doesn’t exist in our vocabulary. You’re mine and I’m yours. We’re each other’s family. You’re home.”
“Yes, to all of that, baby.” I don’t say anything else. My arms hold her like she wants, tightly to my chest, while I rest my chin on top of her head.
We’re lying in the bed of my truck, in a private field, and all that can be heard is the steadiness of our breathing. This place holds six years’ worth of memories, and when she comes back, it’ll hold forever.
My mind drifts to the meeting this morning with the bank. I have everything I need to give her the life she’ll love when she returns home. A large part of me is scared she’ll love the spotlight and forget about small-town life. She’ll forget me and marry some star. He’ll give her the moon and stars, while the only thing I can offer is our life here, in Mason. I have dreams to give her the moon and stars too, but my version differs from those with millions and endless funds. I’m not poor by any means, but I’m not swimming in cash like some people she’ll be around.
“Whiskey?”
“Yeah?”
“Whatever you’re thinking you need to stop. I don’t care about anyone else except you. You’re the man I love and want to spend my life with. The money that others have doesn’t matter to me. All of that will never compare to what we have here.”
Relief washes over me and I’m thrilled she feels this way so I kick out the doubts and nod instead of responding.
“Tell me a story,” she asks.
I kiss the side of her head, savoring her sweet scent, and close my eyes. I keep my lips there for a few moments longer, and when I pull them away, I hold her tighter and start the story . . .
***
We woke up early in the morning, made love, and I took her home so she could spend time with her family. I went home to shower and got ready before going back to her house. I put her suitcases in the trunk and watched her. She hugged her mama and brother then listened to what they told her. I gave her space so I got back into my truck and waited for her. The drive was quiet. Ashely held my hand the whole time. There were so many things I wanted her to know, but I couldn’t let the words out. My throat was constricted and the pang of grief in my chest grew.
After she checks her bags in and gets her boarding passes, I take my hands from my jean pockets and open it for her. She runs my way and jumps in my arms, crying into my neck. I’m holding my life in my arms, in the middle of the airport, and I know I’m going to have to put her down soon so she can go through security. I didn’t think it’d be this hard.
“I’m so proud of you, Ashley Monroe,” I tell her, masking my hesitation and nerves. Once I put her down I cup her face and wipe the tears with my thumb. “This audition’s going to be the first of many. You’ll be perfect.”
“I’m going to miss you. We’ve never been apart.” She cries and holds onto my middle tighter. “What if I’m making a mistake?”
“And what if you’re making the best decision in your life?”
She sighs and nuzzles her face in my chest. “You’re the best decision I ever made.”
“It’ll be okay. We’ll be okay, Ashley.”
She lets me go and gazes at me with her wide deep, honey brown eyes, and I’m at the edge, wanting to beg her to stay.
“No saying goodbye,” she whispers. “At most, I’ll be gone a year if the audition goes well.”
“Okay.”
“You’re my home, Landon Fisher, and I promise to come back to you.”
I look into the eyes of the woman I’ve loved since I was twelve years old. “I’m proud of you. Don’t forget me.”
“I’ll never forget you.”
***
Two Days Later
“Ashley, what’s wrong?”
She sobs over the phone; breaking my heart because we’re miles away, and I can’t do anything except listen.
“I’m not cut out to be a model . . .”
“Don’t say that. You’re beautiful, Angel.”
She sighs. “I can’t get the poses right and the photographer hates me.”
“Remember, you’ve worked so hard for this moment. Don’t let this little setback make you want to give up.”
“I don’t belong here.”
“I want you to try one more time. Pretend I’m there with you. I believe in you.”
“Thanks, Whiskey. I love you.”
“I love you more.”
***
Five Hours Later
Ashley: It worked! The pictures came out amazing and they’re so impressed with me. My agent brought in some designers and guess what?
Me: What?
Ashley: They’re signing me for one year, and I’m going to Italy for a European tour!
Me: That’s amazing, sweetheart. I knew you could do it. How long will you be away?
Ashley: I’m not sure. At least three months. I’m going to miss you.
Me: I’ll miss you more, but I support you all the way. We’ll get through this together. Keep me updated.
Ashley: I will!
***
Three Days Later
Me: Good morning, baby. I hope everything’s going well. I miss you. Been thinking about you and wondering how you’re doing.
Me: I hope I get to talk to you tonight. I’m just about done with work. Hope everything’s okay. I love you.
Me: I’m about ready for bed. Sweet dreams. I love you.
***
Seven Days Later
Me: Hey, sweetheart. How’s it going?
Ashley: Oh, Whiskey. Sorry for not texting you. Everything’s AMAZING! Tomorrow’s the show and I’ve been working with a designer. The dresses I’m wearing is beautiful. I’ll send you pictures later. Maybe you can stream it online?
Me: I’ll try. Good luck. I love you.
Ashley: I love you, Whiskey.
***
Six Months Later
I busy myself with getting the house ready—driving to and from Austin for supplies. Ashley texts and calls me as much as she can. I know she’s busy, but I’m glad she’s doing what she loves. If she’s happy then I’m happy.
While she was on her European tour, I did my best to find the fashion shows and watched her. She shined. I watched each confident step she took down the catwalk and the look of determination in her eyes was apparent. She was doing what she loved and I was here cheering her on. Every day that passed, our talks got shorter and shorter. With the time difference and our jobs, I was lucky if I got more than five minutes. But this was her dream and I supported her.
She’s back at her apartment in New York City from our conversation last night. I’m ready to be with my girl and feel home again.
“You good to go?” my friend, Gunner Mathews, asks as he pulls into the airport.
I rifle around in my bags to make sure I have everything. “Yep. Good to go. Thanks for dropping me off and watching my house.”
“No problem. Ellie already wants to redecorate.”
“Tell her to go ahead. I’ll only be there for a few more months and then the house should be done.”
“I’m happy for you,” Gunner says and parks the car. “Text me when you get back and I’ll come get you.”
“Thanks again, man.”
After my flight from Austin to Atlanta, I have a five-hour layover until I can board my flight to New York City. I haven’t been able to get ahold of Ashley today. I’m sure she’s fine and busy with her agent.
This is my first time out of Texas, and I’m a little nervous. I hope I’ll fit into Ashley’s new world, and she won’t mind having her Southern boyfriend hanging around her. I can’t wait to see the look on her face when she sees me. She has no idea I’m coming to visit for two weeks.
I still have two hours before my next flight, so I walk to a shop to browse through the magazines and books. The headline of a magazine gets my attention and I pick it up to see Ashley on the cover, photographed in a close embrace with another man. The headline says his name’s Shawn and he’s part of a band. I’m scrambling to get to the article and suddenly my world drops. Everything becomes cold. The pressure on my chest grows stronger. Nothing makes sense and nothing prepares me for this. All I see are pictures of Ashley with this singer. She looks happy. She looks beautiful.
“Why, Ashley?” I mutter before walking to the counter and paying for the magazine.
The clerk says something, but it doesn’t register to me. I blink a few times and turn away, absentmindedly moving my feet somehow and sitting down with the magazine in my hand.