The Happy Ever After Playlist - Abby Jimenez Page 0,100

They were getting restless and I was going to have to go back.

Fuck it, let them wait.

“Why did you call me from Zane’s phone?” she asked.

“I broke mine,” I said, not volunteering the details.

She sighed. “Jason, I love you. I choose you. And I know you feel guilty because of the way things are and you don’t have to.”

I shook my head, even though she couldn’t see it. “I want you to have a life.”

“I have a life. With you.” She laughed a little. “Also, you should know that the number one reason I wouldn’t have kids with you right now is because we’re not married. Until you make an honest woman out of me, I’m not open to any negotiations.”

I could hear the smile in her voice. She was trying to cheer me up. Make light of this.

There was nothing funny about it.

I had the ring, but I wouldn’t ask her.

I didn’t want her to be like me, trapped in a long-term contract that she’d grow to regret.

Chapter 39

Sloan

♪ Ful Stop | Radiohead

The second I’d hung up with Jason, I’d darted around my room and packed my things to leave. I grabbed Tucker, said goodbye to Patricia, and had Paul drive me to the airport in Duluth so I could catch the next flight to Vegas. I didn’t tell Jason I was coming. He was so low, I wanted to surprise him. I’d told him good night when we hung up and he wasn’t expecting to hear from me until the morning.

The last five weeks had been torture. It was great seeing Kristen, and I loved cooking with Jason’s mom. I’d gotten sleep, I’d gotten healthy—and none of it compared to being with him. Not even a little.

It was going to take me at least another month to finish the piece, and I didn’t have another month in me without him. I’d already been debating coming back to the road early when we’d had our argument, and that was the deciding factor.

What he’d said scared me.

I knew this separation had been hard for him. That’s why I’d made it a point to always be happy when we talked, so he’d know his sacrifice wasn’t a waste. But now I thought maybe I should have let him see how awful it was without him. Honestly, I couldn’t even focus on what I was here to do. I spent most of my days trying to distract myself from the fact that I felt too in a funk to paint.

We were simply no good without each other. This separation had been the proof. We were both miserable. I had to go back. I wanted to fall asleep in his arms tonight and every night from now on.

Every step I took to getting back to him—getting off the plane, climbing into an Uber, walking into the hotel—made me feel elated, like I was coming home.

The road was home.

It was miraculous that I felt that way after how much it had worn me down—but it was true. Home was wherever Jason was, and knowing this gave me the world’s biggest second wind. This time was going to be different. Very different.

So much of what I’d struggled with on tour was mental. I’d kept thinking about all the things I wasn’t able to do and looking forward to the day it would be over instead of appreciating that every minute out there was time with him. And now that I’d seen what being apart was like, my brain had done a complete 180.

I could do this. I could do the crap out of this.

I’d learn to sleep on the bus. That was the very first thing on my list. I’d figure out how to eat better. I’d go with him to the gym and exercise when he did. I’d get a Crock-Pot and make us dinner so we could eat real food. I mean, the bus had a kitchen. Why not?

And why couldn’t I paint on the road if we drove at night? That would mean during the day the bus would be parked. I could paint during his sound check. I’d have to be careful, figure out a way to make sure the canvas was secure when we were moving, but it wasn’t impossible. I didn’t have to lose myself in Jason’s career, I could find myself here. Reinvent myself. Evolve.

He was going to marvel at the new me.

And you know what? Maybe we could have kids. If we got the bus outfitted with