“I’m sorry, Chad.”

The silence grew thick between them, not because he didn’t have anything to say, but because Chad was doing everything in his power to calm himself and not blurt out every thought catapulting through his mind. All he could manage was to stare at Liz in disbelief, unable to comprehend how she could so easily sum it up with a simple apology.

“That’s it? You’re sorry. You say it like it makes it all right, Liz. Do you even know what you’re sorry for?” His voice was getting louder, his desperation to maintain control now shrouded in anger.

“For hurting you,” she explained in a weak voice. The edge of calmness he was about to careen over must have been obvious. Liz seemed less sure of herself, suddenly unable to look him in the eyes. Another bout of silence fell between them. Chad didn’t trust himself enough to speak. Instead, a defeated sigh tumbled from his lips and he ran his hand through his hair. The truth finally sank in and he let his shoulders lower slightly as he reluctantly accepted the ending of the life he’d led, the life he and Liz had built together for the past decade. Without warning, it was Liz who’d changed everything, in a mere matter of minutes, not seeming to give a damn about how the decision might affect him. She was done, they were over, and there was nothing else for Chad to do but let her go.

“There’s nothing I can do or say to make you stay, is there?” It was his last feeble attempt at holding on to the hope of reconciliation, a chance to make things good between them again. Even to his own ears, however, the question sounded like a desperate plea.

It was her turn to sigh, although Liz sounded more annoyed than broken. “I told you, we’re just too different now. We’re not the same people we were ten years ago. We’re going in different directions.”

He knew what she was referring to, and it wasn’t the first time they’d discussed it. It was, however, the only time it had resulted in her bags being packed and her guitar case by the door.

“Just because I won’t change the kind of music I make doesn’t mean we have to be over.” It was the only time during the whole conversation he’d defended himself. Maybe Liz was right. Maybe he did fight more for his music than he did for her. Then again, Liz, of all people, should have understood that Chad’s heart and soul went into doing what he loved. After all, she was doing the same, and that was why they’d moved to Nashville straight out of high school. Two like-minded, passionate dreamers with unwavering aspirations of being the next big thing in the country music industry, and a devotion to each other that was unheard of between teenagers. He never dreamed there would come a day when she would make him choose, when being together wouldn’t be enough.

“Change isn’t always a bad thing,” Liz stated.

He wasn’t sure if she was referring to the kind of country music he was set on writing, or the unexpected change in their relationship status. Either way, Chad didn’t agree with her.

“What’s his name?”

“Pardon me?” Shock laced her voice, her eyes wide as she glared at him.

“I said, what’s his name?” Not once did he take his eyes off her, not daring to blink, even though each second he stared at her guilt-ridden expression pained him more than the last. He swallowed audibly, knowing he was right.

“This is about us, Chad. Nothing else.” Liz’s gaze faltered. She didn’t look nervous, just caught in the web of lies and suspicions that continued to extend across and taint what little remained of the love between them.

“Liz, everything was fine while Take Me Home was climbing nicely up the charts. Admit it, you saw dollar signs and glitz and glamour. You thought we’d finally made it. I did, too, babe. So, the follow-up single didn’t cut it on the radio—big deal. We’ve fought this long to get where we are. We’ll keep fighting. Eventually—”

Liz held up her hands, cutting him off mid sentence. “There is no eventually, Chad,” she announced, exasperated. “We came here to make music, to be a part of the country music world. This world is changing, though, and you’re not willing to adapt to it. You’ll never be a part of something you’re not willing to change for.”

“I’m not into all the pop crossover stuff—”

“That’s what country music is right now.”

“Not all of it, Liz.”

 “That’s what’s popular right now, Chad.”

“It’s not real country. Not my kind of country, anyway.”

“You have to play what will sell.”

“I am. Take Me Home did pretty well—”

“You got lucky!” Liz blurted out. The sharp gasp that followed confirmed she hadn’t actually meant to say the words out loud, but the damage had already been done.

Chad’s eyes narrowed, and he searched her features as though really looking at her for the first time. Words flooded his mind, things he could have uttered just to have a hurtful retort. Instead, he squeezed his eyes shut for a brief moment and took a step backward.

“I guess you’ve said all you need to say, then,” he breathed, unsure if he’d managed to harness the bitterness and anger that were quickly overshadowing the hurt and pain he’d initially felt. Knowing that Liz no longer loved him was hard enough to fathom, but the idea that she no longer believed in him, or the dream he was committed to chasing; that was a pill too tough to swallow.

She stayed silent as she padded toward the door in her socks, sending flickering glances his way through her bangs as she bent to pull her cowboy boots on. Her favorites, a pair of Justin boots with turquoise and yellow stitching he’d bought for her on Valentine’s Day two years ago. At least, she’d said they were her favorites. Chad didn’t know what to believe anymore.

“We’re too different now,” she repeated, standing tall again to face him. He got the feeling she was trying to convince herself of that as well.

“So you’ve so blatantly pointed out.” His words were meant to be cold, expressionless.

“I’m really sorry, Chad.” Liz’s hands were already on the handles of her luggage bags.

“You’ve said that, too.”

He watched as she nodded curtly, an air of finality in her movements as she swung her guitar case up onto her shoulder. His gaze lingered where the case met the small of her back. The woman he’d loved since he was old enough to know what love was, the inspiration for every lyric he sang and every chord he played, was walking away from him. From the us they’d been for so long.

Liz reached for the doorknob and let her fingertips touch the burnished metal. She hesitated, her spine suddenly rigid and straight when she turned back around to face him.

“Chad?”

She said his name as a question, but he was out of answers. Words failed him, and the sad humiliation in her eyes tore through the remnants of the broken pieces she was leaving him in, so he said nothing. Chad met her gaze, one last desperate thread of hope that maybe she’d changed her mind. “Yeah?”

“His name is Jonathan.”

* * *

Katie slid the last cardboard box off the tailgate of the truck and set it on the front porch steps with the others. A bead of sweat trickled down the side of her flushed face, and she wiped it away with the back of her hand, taking another glance around as though to familiarize herself with her surroundings again. A sigh reverberated through her, knowing too well that nothing had changed.

Yet, everything was different.

Her father was gone, therefore, the vast acres around her that housed so many fond memories and warm thoughts no longer held the appeal and magic they once had for her. The property looked just as it had when he was alive, but it wasn’t the same. It just wasn’t. This was his property, his sanctuary, and no matter what his legal will or the property deed said, she’d never be able to view it as her own.

Enough already, she scolded herself silently. She couldn’t undo her father’s death, and she couldn’t go back on her promise to herself to make this farmhouse and acreage her home. She’d have done anything for her father while he was alive, and that loyalty wouldn’t waver just because he’d passed away. She sniffed back the sobs that were forming at the base of her throat and forced herself to go inside, plucking one of the boxes from the porch steps as she passed by it.

Inside, the faint scent of cedar mixed with lavender invaded her senses. The entire interior of the spacious farmhouse had been done in tongue-and-groove cedar planks. For weeks, she’d watched the rooms of the house transform from outdated and in need of repair, to comforting and rustically modern, all done by her father’s bare hands and painstaking meticulous attention to detail. Sometimes, on her days off from the hospital, she’d even lent a hand, passing boards one by one to him as he worked on his final masterpiece. Now, as she inhaled the scent of those boards, lingering together with the floral aroma of the lavender candle she had burning, she was overcome with gratitude for the days she’d been allowed to spend with him working on this old place, realizing she’d never once thought for a moment that their days together had been numbered.

Katie snapped back to reality and shook her head, wondering if she’d ever get back to being her normal, focused, not-so-scatterbrained self. She pushed the box onto the kitchen table and stole a glance at the clock. Mason would be home from school soon. Thankfully, the school bus picked him up and dropped him off at the end of their laneway. Therefore, as long as she allowed herself five or so minutes to walk down the long, winding gravel path that led to their house, she’d be on time to greet his smiling face when he arrived. She’d even have time to get supper on the go before Jay got home from...

Jay.

A new wave of despair flooded through her as she realized her mistake. Jay wouldn’t be home in time for dinner, no matter what time she got it started. This wasn’t his home, anyway. He was still in their home, the cozy condominium they’d both purchased six years ago, just before Mason had been born.

I guess freedom was easier for him than ‘for better or for worse’. Katie swallowed hard, shaking her head in disappointment as she ripped the packing tape from the box in front of her and attempted to do something more productive than ruminate about the things she couldn’t change. When she flipped open the cardboard flaps and came face to face with one of the crystal whisky tumblers Jay’s parents had given them as an engagement present, a strangled cry of anger erupted from her throat and she heaved the glass at the cedar walls without thinking, all her withheld pain, hurt, and fear tearing out of her at once.

As the tumbler shattered, scattering sparkling shards of crystal across the hardwood floor, Katie’s eyes widened. Shocked at her own sudden outburst, she just stared in stunned silence at the glistening mess. The sunlight streaming through the window seemed to give life to the crystal shards somehow, and Katie stared still, struggling with the beauty and the horror of it all. The set of four matching tumblers was now only a set of three, just as her and Mason’s little family was now only a family of two. And, really, if Katie was honest with herself, her truest sadness came from knowing that, without her father, she had no one else anymore.

She was alone.

She wiped her eyes, then swallowed the sob that threatened to escape her lips. She stole another glance at the clock and smoothed back her hair, heading for the door. With her mask of a content, happy mother in place, she set off to greet her son at the end of the laneway after his long day at school.