by Pratt, Lulu
“Are you going to stare at your phone and pretend I’m not standing here?” I asked Billie, standing directly in front of her.
“What do you want me to say?” she asked with a slight smirk.
“You think this is funny?” I asked in disbelief that she could be amused when I was so upset.
“I mean, look at it from my perspective,” she placed her hands on her hips. “You’re the golden child. Everyone loves you, and you literally never do anything wrong.” I rolled my eyes, tired of Billie’s old complaints that I’d endured a hundred times before. “I’m being dragged to the studio after a lecture from Mitchell about my lack of professionalism and we walk in on you making out with the girl you’ve had the hots for since we hired her.”
“And that’s funny to you?” I asked without cracking the smallest smile.
“It’s just,” Billie paused, trying to fight the smile. “Ironic, to say the least.”
“I thought we had a deal to always side with each other when it came to the label,” I reminded her of the pact we’d made the day we signed our record deal.
“And I thought we had a deal not to let one of your little flings get in the way of business,” she crossed her arms defiantly.
It occurred to me that my sister, so involved in her own relationship and the happenings of her life, hadn’t even noticed I was falling hard for Sadie. She had no idea I was willing to throw away everything to be with her.
“Sadie isn’t some little fling,” I smirked, finally amused. Pausing, I let the words dance on my tongue before speaking them. “I love her.”
“What?” Billie asked, her eyes double their normal size. “Wyatt, are you serious?”
“Yes,” I answered flatly, turning to leave.
I didn’t have time to explain to my sister what she could already know if she took the opportunity to do anything more than stare at her phone all day. I needed to get to Sadie, to explain and apologize and try to repair what had been broken.
“You can’t leave after dropping a bomb like that!” she yelled behind me.
“Would you rather I require you to apologize to her too?” I turned with one hand on the handle to the door.
“Wyatt, I’m happy for you! How would I know that you two were serious? You never said a word,” she explained with the first sign of sincerity.
“You never asked, Billie.”
With that, I left. Speeding through the city, I arrived at Sadie’s house in a matter of minutes. Her driveway was empty. She always had lights on at her house, but it was dark from the street. Still, I found myself running to the porch, knocking on the door as I peered into the small window beside the door, hoping for any sign of her.
Reaching for my phone, I texted a short message, waiting impatiently to see the three dots to let me know she was replying. Instead, I got the indication that she’d read the message.
I tried calling, confident that if she would just hear me out, I could explain what happened after she left and try to convince her to see me. I knew that once we were together, we could make anything make sense. But she didn’t answer, sending me to voicemail on my second attempt.
I had to find a way to get in touch with her, to tell her what I’d confessed to my sister for the first time. If only she knew I loved her, none of this other stuff would matter. I only hoped it wasn’t too late.
Chapter 33
SADIE
I AWOKE FROM A deep slumber that left me confused. Looking around the room, I tried to make sense of the strange but familiar surroundings. After the humiliating experience at the studio with Wyatt, I’d retreated to my safe haven – my parents’ home.
The drive the day before was difficult as I had been crying the entire time. I even had to pull over to the side of the road as I needed to calm down and find more Kleenexes.
As much as I wanted Nashville to feel like home, deep down I knew that it never would. I was a small-town girl, and Franklin would always be home. Only thirty minutes away, it was strange how different it felt from the fast-paced Nashville.
My vision cleared, noticing the books, trophies and ribbons lining my bookshelf. The memories of talent shows and competitions brought a smile to my face. When I was younger, my evenings belonged to piano practice, and my weekends to competitions.
I dreamed of moving away when I grew up, mostly because no one else did. It was typical to go away for college, but after the four years were up, everyone came back home. It was the same routine across the board – go to college, move back to Franklin, get married, buy a house, have children, and live in their comfort zone forever.
It terrified me, thinking that could be my life. I always saw more for myself. I wanted to leave Franklin because it was my way of leaving my comfort zone and declaring my difference from my peers.
Nashville was supposed to be a fresh start for me, an introduction into the real world. But things had gotten too real for me, very fast. My mother always feared the city would be too fast for me. She said people there were ruthless and cruel, and I’d foolishly doubted her.
I was always determined to do things the hard way, and this had been no different. So quickly, I had been sucked into the illusion of celebrity. I thought I was living in a fairy tale, happy to drop anything and everything for a man who was more interested in his career.
Over and over, I had told Wyatt that his sister and music producer would not approve of our relationship. And every time, he looked me in my eye and promised to protect me. But then, when it was time to stand behind those words, he fell silent.
I tried to think back to the song that left me speechless, the new one Wyatt wrote and sang at our last session together. I wanted to believe the words and the look in his eyes. I needed to know there was more behind his kisses than the physical arousal we brought each other.
To me, our connection went much further than skin deep. I felt Wyatt deep within me even when we weren’t together. I was bound to him even in the times when I doubted I should be, like now.
He had done everything to prove that his words shouldn’t be trusted, and still I found myself inconsolable, crying myself to sleep after the drive from the studio. The hurt had driven me to my hometown, the place I swore would not be in my future.
A knock at the door rattled me to the present, realizing my thoughts had taken over. Wiping a rogue tear, I called in the cheeriest voice I could muster. “Yes?”
“Hey, sweetheart! Want some breakfast?” my dad’s cheery voice rang through the door.
“I’ll be right down!” I answered, scrambling from the bed.
After skipping dinner, I should have been famished, but my appetite was nonexistent. How could I eat when my heart was starving for the love of a man who clearly didn’t value me?
Wyatt had let Mitchell and his sister speak to me any way they wanted. And that was even worse than their insults. We were so intimate, so close, and then it was all shattered in one moment.
Walking down the steps of my childhood home, I decided not to spend the entire day sulking. Wyatt had made his decision, and I wasn’t going to waste any more time trying to make sense of his actions. Since I left the studio, he had texted me three times and called at least five times. I couldn’t bear to talk to him, but I had secretly wished he would leave a voicemail just so I could hear his voice. He didn’t.
“Good morning, sunshine.” My father rose from the dining room table as I entered the kitchen.
“Hey, Daddy,” I smiled, giving him a quick hug. “Hey, Mom,” I smiled at my mother as she stood over the stove.
“Sweetie, do you want some eggs?” she asked.
“Sure,” I answered, although I didn’t have a taste for them.
“Hey honey, do you remember when I used to look that good in the morning?” my mom called to my dad.
I smirked, the first sign of a smile since I left the studio session in tears. It wasn’t that my mother never gave me compliments, but more that she always knew exactly when I needed them. An
d in those times, which were usually my darkest, she showered me with praise.
“You’re still my favorite sight every morning,” my father smiled at my mom. I watched the compliment transform her petite face into a grin she rarely showed.
I only wished to have a relationship like my parents, one that could stand the test of time. They had each gone after their own passions in life, both creating careers they were proud of. Although they took them away from the house so often, I was happy they had followed their dreams.
One of the things I admired about their relationship was their support for each other. My mother wasn’t the type of woman who complained about her husband not spending more time at home. And my father never tried to convince my mother to quit her career to care for me.
Every time either of them was up for an award or for a presentation, the other would clear their schedule and forget their accomplishments. For that night, they were simply the wife or husband of the award recipient or the person on stage. I would watch them in awe, hoping to one day find someone as supportive of my passion.
“So, what brings you home, sweetheart?” My father turned his attention to me. I’d left a note on the kitchen counter for my parents that I was home but needed to sleep, so I’d not spoken to them about what had happened as I’d stayed in my old room alone.
“Just needed a break,” I said with a shrug. It was partly the truth. After the catastrophe at the studio, I did need a break – from Wyatt, Nashville, and even music.
It was all too much, and in my tear-filled night, I began to question it all. Maybe the music industry was too cutthroat for me, a warning my mother never went long without reminding me about. She thought I was too kind and naïve, and my relationship with Wyatt made me believe her.
I could never see myself choosing my career over the person I loved. I didn’t want to choose at all. Not when I’d seen my parents both go after their dreams without sacrificing their love for each other. I knew it was possible, and refused to settle for anything less.
“Here you go, sweetie. Just how you like them,” my mom smiled as she sat a plate in front of me. She’d always been one to plate her food like a restaurant. The fluffy scrambled eggs sat beside one piece of toast she’d cut in half diagonally. On the side was a half of an avocado, sliced thinly and spread to create a delicate shape.
“How is Nashville treating you? Are you building a community down there? It’s important to have people you can depend on if you’re going to live somewhere,” my father continued with the advice.
“Yeah, I have a good set of friends,” I said, thinking to my bandmates. I hadn’t told my parents the band decided to split, afraid it would excite them, thinking my return home was imminent.
“And what about any guy friends?” My father smirked as he looked over to me, holding a piece of toast in his hand. “Is there anyone special down in Nashville?”
My throat tightened at the thought of Wyatt. I’d wanted to introduce him to my family so they could see what a nice guy he was. More than the man I loved, he was living proof that my dream could come true. Wyatt was successful without sacrificing his creativity and free spirit.
Thinking of him made my stomach tight, wishing that things between us could have worked. I searched for words, but none came as I pushed the eggs around on my plate with my fork.
“Honey, leave her alone. She’s hungry,” my mother answered for me. My father looked confused, shrugging before returning to his meal. “Sadie, I think we need a girls’ day,” my mom said to me.
My heart bloomed. For every time I had doubted my connection to my mother, she had done everything to prove me wrong today. She was my backbone, always there when I needed her. I didn’t need to say a word; she could read me like a book and prescribe a remedy at lightning speed.
“I would like that,” I managed, though the emotions were bubbling in my chest.
I picked up my knife and began to eat.
Chapter 34
WYATT
I’D SPENT THE morning and the day before trying to find the words to tell Sadie how I felt. There was no excuse for letting her get away, but I had to do everything I could to make things right. If only she could hear my side, I knew she wouldn’t shut me out.
As she always had when my career seemed too much to handle, Sadie stopped taking my calls. As though she knew I would show up unannounced at her house, as I had in the past, she left Nashville altogether.
I wasn’t sure if that was a sign that she desperately needed space, or a chance for me to go above and beyond to show her I would let no obstacle come between us. Desperate and hopeless, I’d called Billie for advice.
She told me that if I truly loved Sadie, I needed to prove it – to her and myself. Not only did I need to proclaim my love with words, I had to show her I was serious. So, I came up with a plan that at the moment felt a bit silly.
Now that it was time to go through with the ridiculous scheme I’d come up with, I began to doubt myself. I’d never done anything like this, choosing to let my relationships with women be lighthearted and careless.
With Sadie, everything was different. She mattered too much for me to sit back and let things happen. Neither my pride or ego would stop me from being with her. So, I pushed through the doors, ready to risk everything if there was even a possibility of getting her back.
It had been a long time since I found myself in a shopping mall. It reminded me of my childhood, walking past the food court, lined with some of my favorite childhood restaurants. Every few steps I would hear someone gasp or whisper my name, but I didn’t care. I usually avoided places like shopping malls to skip the celebrity mayhem I’d never been too keen on anyway.
It was always so strange to me how malls could be in any city across the country, but look exactly the same. When I was on tour as a young man missing home, I would seek out shopping malls for a taste of home. Walking through any one of them on a tour stop would remind me of Memphis and my teenage weekends spent wandering the huge buildings aimlessly.
This walk through was different. I was a man with a purpose. I had to find Sadie and tell her the truth I had been too afraid to say before. My life focus had been my career for as long as I could remember, forcing my personal life on the back burner. Now, things were different.
I’d cancelled the studio sessions indefinitely until I could find Sadie, disregarding threats and disapproving opinions from the label. I didn’t care what happened to the album if it meant my and Sadie’s relationship would go down the drain.
Earlier, in an act of desperation that felt foreign to my relaxed demeanor, I frantically searched for the business card Sadie’s friend had given me at the flea market. Having only taken it as a courtesy to Sadie, I never even took it out of my jeans pocket. If I had waited a day longer, it would have been destroyed in the laundry.
Thankfully, her friend Gayle was willing to rat out her best friend, telling me she had returned home to Franklin, after an intense warning about not breaking Sadie’s heart. I promised her I would never hurt Sadie, and she gave me the phone number to her childhood home.
It felt strange calling a number that wasn’t direct to Sadie, but nothing could have prepared me for her father answering the phone. When I asked where Sadie was, he had no idea who I was. It seemed Sadie hadn’t told her parents about working on my album. I’d be lying if I said it didn’t sting, but it didn’t deter me from finding her in the least bit. It took a bit of convincing with her father, but I hadn’t been nominated for songwriting awards without learning how to be sincere.
“Oh, my God!” a young girl yelled as I peered into a department store. “You’re Wyatt Hart!”
“Yes, I am.” I tried to force a smile, but one came naturally as my eyes landed on Sadie, at the back of the store shopping with a woman that looked like an older, more conservative version of her.
“Can I please take a selfie with you? I’m like your biggest fan!”
Without looking away from Sadie,
I posed with the young fan as patiently as I could manage. My heart was racing, eager to get away. Sadie was turning a corner, and I couldn’t risk losing sight of her.
“Here,” I pushed a business card into the young girl’s hand. “Email my manager, and she’ll give you tickets to my next show.”
The young fan was so busy celebrating, she barely realized I’d slipped away. Walking too fast for any other fan to stop me, I made my way to Sadie before she looked up to see me, exactly how I’d wanted it.
“Hi, babe.”
It wasn’t the speech I’d practiced during the half hour drive from Nashville, but when I saw her shifting through the dresses on the rack, it was all that came to my mind. She was my baby, innocent and pure. And it was my job to protect her, and I’d failed at that. I’d spent a full day fearing I’d lost her forever, but seeing her again gave me a sense of confidence only Sadie could spark.
Gone were the thoughts that she and I were a thing of the past. I knew from the way her eyes lit up when they landed on me that she still felt the spark between us, but I couldn’t be sure if it was enough. And when her lips parted, the fear returned, wondering if I’d overstepped a boundary.
“Wyatt, how did you know I was here?”
My heart sunk. Had I taken a risk and failed? Did Sadie really not want to see me? I chose to answer truthfully. “Your dad told me you were here shopping with your mom.”
“Why would he do that?” she asked, just as the older woman I’d seen her shopping with appeared, holding a dress that looked like nothing I’d ever seen Sadie wear.
“I thought this would be nice for you, darling. Blush looks great against your skin.” She spoke to Sadie, but her eyes sized me up without worrying about subtlety.
“Hi, I’m Wyatt.” I extended my hand. She looked at it, and then at Sadie. She must have received some imperceptible signal of approval from Sadie, because she accepted my hand, placing her petite fingers against my palm.
