by Emily Conrad
When the band relocated to LA to pursue a record contract, Green stayed behind and was replaced by current bassist Matt Visser. Green’s relationship with Fitzwilliam turned serious, and they were engaged.
However, shortly before Awestruck signed its first contract with Wakefield Records, Fitzwilliam fell on hard times. He left the band and broke off his engagement to Green.
Wolski explains the reaction of their hometown. “None of us ever knew for sure, but we all suspected there was something going on between Adeline and Gannon.”
Whether or not a love triangle played a role in his decline, Fitzwilliam appears to have struggled with depression. He died of a self-inflicted gunshot to the head weeks after the release of Awestruck’s debut album, Burn.
“It was a tragedy for everyone, especially Fitz’s family, of course, but also Gannon and Adeline. He stopped visiting home much, and she moved away. I haven’t seen either in years, but I hope it’s true that they’re finally together. Whatever happened in the past, they deserve to be happy. I think even Fitz would want that.”
Unfortunately for Vaughn and Green, their days of love triangles don’t seem to be over.
“Before he showed up, we were all kind of rooting for Adeline and Pastor Drew,” says a Lakeshore local who asked to remain anonymous.
Despite Vaughn’s presence in the small community of Lakeshore, Wisconsin, where Green now resides, Green has been spotted multiple times with Drew Hastings, who pastors a local church.
Vaughn’s attentions are likewise divided. His ex, Harper English, traveled to northern Wisconsin. Both Green and English were photographed entering and leaving Vaughn’s property over the weekend.
Perhaps this explains why Green’s online relationship status remains “single” and Vaughn’s only post regarding his relationship with Green refers to her as “an old friend.”
It seems the most anyone can hope for is an update from “single” to “it’s complicated.”
This had to be why Adeline had been clutching her laptop and crying the night before. A gunshot to the head. And all the photos—a picture of the original band performing in an outdoor amphitheater back home, one from Adeline and Fitz’s engagement announcement, a shot of Adeline and Drew, a picture of Harper.
John took the tablet and started reading. “Who’s Heather Wolski?”
“Nobody.” Probably a classmate, but if she’d been close enough to Adeline to deserve to be quoted, the name would be familiar. He focused on Tim, who tapped a corner of his phone against the desk. “You can relax,” Gannon said. “She’s not interested in rejoining.”
Stilling the phone, Tim leaned back into his chair. “So Plan A, then.”
Plan A: leave Adeline behind. Again.
John laid the tablet on the desk. “It’s time.”
Gannon would argue if the article were wrong, but finding their tragic past spelled out so clearly last night must’ve only confirmed her decision that they could never be more than friends. “If we’re going to catch Miller, it’s got to be today or tomorrow.”
Tim typed something on his phone. “Let’s say tomorrow. Take today to pack up and say goodbye.”
Goodbye. Right. As if he could bear that.
30
Adeline forced herself to nod along with the conversation. What she wanted was to go inside and find out where Gannon had been hiding for the last two hours. And why.
Tim and John laughed at something Tegan said. Tegan looked over as if Adeline ought to appreciate the joke too, but she’d heard nothing. She smiled and hoped that would cover her cluelessness.
John made a show of dancing in his seat, and the others erupted again.
Sitting here was a waste. She couldn’t enjoy the company while she wondered about Gannon and whether he was hurt or angry—or both.
She excused herself with a polite smile that faded as soon as her back was turned.
Gannon wasn’t in the great room, the kitchen, or the studio. She climbed the stairs.
Pausing at his partially open door, she heard the crackle of paper. Tapping on the door pushed it far enough open to reveal him sitting against his headboard, a notebook in hand. He had one leg stretched out, the other knee bent up. On seeing her, he tossed the notebook to the comforter and rested his wrist on his knee.
Her heart plunked against her ribs like a child abusing a piano. “So, this is how a brooding rock star looks.”
His brow furrowed. He must not understand the way his mood tempted her to give in, to kiss him in hopes of changing everything about how he felt right now.
Not her best idea.
She glanced at the chair at the desk. He’d asked before joining her on the patio last night, and that had been a much less personal space. “Can I sit?”
He nodded, but as he did, he rubbed his forehead as if he weren’t in the mood for company. Too tired. Or hurt. Or angry.
She took the chair. If any more nervous energy infused her, she’d float away like a helium balloon. She gripped the armrests to keep herself in place. “I wanted to explain about the friends thing.”
“I already know.” He looked out the window, eyebrows still drawn.
“You do?”
“You still feel guilty.” He worked his fingers. A guitar melody or simple, subconscious movement while he thought? He focused on her again, a hint of blue visible in his irises, but she was too far away to see the gold ring she loved so much. “What if God is better than you know, Adeline? What if He’s perfect and forgives perfectly?”
Of course he had the right thing to say.
“You’re right. Partially. I do feel guilty. Ashamed, even. I found an article last night that published almost all of our story, pictures and all, for anyone to read.”
“I saw.”
She gulped and nodded. “But that’s not why I think it’s best to be friends. It’s more about what you asked just now. What if God is better than I know, and what if He forgives perfectly? Those are beautiful questions.”
He watched her as if she were an act on Audition Room he still hadn’t made up his mind about.
“He is better than I know. He does forgive perfectly, and He has a plan for me. I want to take the time to understand what that means.”
The lines of pain and frustration lightened little by little, compelling her to continue.
“I want to stop assuming following Him means taking on work I don’t love and volunteering every chance I get. I want to stop punishing myself by not playing bass and by keeping everyone at bay. But changing all that is turning my world on its head.” Speaking her reasoning lightened her load, and examples poured out. “I applied for a new job, I started practicing again, I opened up to you and Tegan about things I’ve never told anyone. It’s a lot, all at once, and I need a strong relationship to carry me through.” Here, she hesitated. What would follow was a minor chord in an otherwise upbeat song, and it changed the entire feel. “But I don’t think that can be with you.”
He rubbed his forehead again, jaw flexing.
“I think it needs to be Jesus.”
He laughed once, not looking at her. He laughed again, more convincing this time, and scrubbed his hands through his hair.
Though unsure what he found funny, a chuckle rose from her own throat. “In that song, you sang about God loving me and looking out for me, and I think I need to learn to rely on Him before exploring other relationships. Being grounded in God first is the only way I’ll make a good life partner for anyone. I just hope you were wrong.”
“About?”
“About this summer being a unique opportunity. By not being ready now, am I saying no to this for the last time?”
He’d focused out the windows again. Though the lines of pain and anger hadn’t returned, he might not promise her another chance. How she longed for a quick reassurance, preferably paired with a hug. She’d memorize the feel of his arms around her, and maybe that would help through all the time they would spend apart.
S
he licked her lips. “It’s occurred to me I’m the only one who’s said no to a relationship between us. I chose Fitz, and I chose guilt, and now I’m choosing something else again.”
He met her gaze, expression kind but sad, tired. “You’re choosing well this time. I wish you all the best, Adeline.”
His tone was gentle, but cues to cry flooded her face. “That sounds a lot like goodbye.”
He swung both feet to the floor, giving her a view of his profile, and propped his elbows on his knees. When he looked at her, his mouth and the skin around his eyes tightened as if it took masterful control to keep from a look of all-out despair. “Our time here’s up. We’re going back to LA tomorrow.”
Gannon couldn’t stand to watch Adeline’s expression crumple into tears, so he stared at the floor. But he couldn’t bear to sit by while she sniffled either. He grabbed the tissues and walked them to her. After she blew her nose and stood to toss the tissue, he pulled her against his chest, cradling her head over his heart the way he’d done with her hand last night.
“I have a problem, Addie.” His voice came out rough with emotion he’d meant to suppress. This was too similar to saying goodbye to her when he’d left with John, Fitz, and Matt, bound for California, obligated to hide his feelings because she’d committed herself to someone else. “I’ve been trying to earn forgiveness too. On some level, I thought if I could keep Matt and Harper from destroying themselves, I’d make up for failing Fitz. But being one person’s hero doesn’t make up for failing another. Anyway, the only real hero is Jesus.”
She held tight to him, and he felt her hold her breath. “You were trying to save me too.”
“But it turns out I needed saving.” If it weren’t for her and the way events had unfolded this summer, Matt and Harper would still control swaths of his life. If it weren’t for all the reminders that they couldn’t earn forgiveness but only accept it, he might never have realized how hard he was trying to earn it.
But the woman in his arms was more than a spiritual realization. She saw him for who he was and gave him back as much as he invested in her. And where he’d had to turn Matt and Harper over to God, Adeline was running to Him all on her own.
Gannon would have to find the strength to let her. “You’re making the right choice.”
“This is harder than I thought it’d be.” Her arms tightened, and her voice cracked.
“For me too.” Even though he had information she didn’t.
Chip and Drew had told him that morning they’d rallied the community—the church and those who knew Adeline from the food trailer and other places—to give her house a makeover. Tegan was in on it too. Though the work had yet to begin, they’d put down deposits with contractors to fix the basement, put on a new roof, and update the kitchen. They’d refused Gannon’s offer to chip in beyond the painting he’d already arranged.
The old Adeline, the one he’d met when he’d first arrived, never would’ve accepted such a gift. But this Adeline? She might protest, but she’d give in, accept her friends’ expression of love as a blessing. She was in good hands here.
He held her until the urge to hook his finger under her chin and tilt her face up for a kiss dominated his thoughts. Stepping back, he took the notebook from the bed and passed it to her.
Her damp eyes focused on the worn cover. “What’s this?”
“A parting gift.” One New Year’s Eve, Awestruck had performed in front of a million people—more if those watching by television counted—and he hadn’t missed a beat. Now, he had to clear his throat. “I told you I had a stash of songs I wrote because of you. The recordings I gave you barely scratched the surface.”
She sniffed and blinked, clearing tears from her vision so she could study the notebook. Could she see from the places the red had worn off, letting white show through, all the time he’d spent with it? Did the stray pen marks reveal to her how he’d rushed to open it when a lyric came to mind or how he’d flipped it shut to hide his most personal thoughts when someone surprised him?
“You’re going to let me read them?” She hugged it to herself.
“I’m letting you keep them.”
“But you’re leaving. Don’t you need your notes for the album?” She held the notebook out to him, the expression on her face as if they were arguing over who should take the last lifejacket on a sinking ship.
Was that what this was? A sinking ship? If so, she was crazy if she thought he’d take something that might keep her afloat. “I have a copy of the recordings I gave you. Between those and what I’ve written since I arrived here, I have enough. Besides, the album was never the point of those songs. You were the point.”
Adeline wiped her thumb against her cheek, clearing tears, then practically fell into him again. She wrapped her arms around him so the notebook pressed his back, her face against his chest.
He almost lost it, pressure building behind his eyes. He stared at the wall and let out a deep breath.
“This isn’t goodbye forever, is it?” she asked.
“I hope not.”
“Are you sure? I haven’t been great to you. How many more chances are you going to give me to break your heart?”
He rested his cheek against her head and inhaled the floral notes of her hair. “At least one.”
31
Six Months Later
Adeline nudged an ice cube under the waxy leaves of her orchid plant and sat back in her desk chair. The visible edge of the ice turned glossy. The flowers had died a couple of weeks ago. Were ice cubes really enough to coax out another round of blossoms?
“Things are pretty slow, huh?”
Adeline swiveled toward the door of her cubical.
Tegan wore jeans and a light jacket that wasn’t suited to February in northern Wisconsin. She must be dreaming of spring. She waved a glossy magazine with Gannon on the cover.
In the photo, he leaned against a gray wall, his thumb hooked in his pocket, a look on his face as if someone had said something marginally funny.
Tegan plopped the magazine on the desk and took the chair usually occupied by the university students Adeline advised in their job searches. “Any big Valentine’s Day plans?”
Adeline shook her head. Tegan would’ve been the first to know if that had changed.
“Can you believe that when he showed up at Superior Dogs last summer, you told him to get lost?”
“I didn’t exactly say that.” She laid her fingers on the corner of the cover. She’d been so standoffish with Gannon back then. Now, she’d marry him in a heartbeat if he asked.
Wait. Would she? Marry him?
Tegan laughed. “Have you read it yet?”
She hadn’t even seen it. TMR had to be one of the most famous music industry magazines, yet Gannon hadn’t mentioned being featured, and she’d given up seeking out articles about him. Studying the photos and quotes was like finding comfort in a tub of ice cream. Satisfying in the moment, but a letdown in the long run. The things he spoke about to reporters gave only a glimpse into his true thoughts and feelings. His conversations with her were richer, but not enough.
They talked about music—she’d written and recorded the bass line for the phoenix song. They talked about the tour and her work, the day-to-day challenges and wins. But she sensed he’d put up emotional barriers. Either he was protecting himself in case she didn’t come around or he thought she wanted distance. To a point she had, but she was in a good place now, wasn’t she?
God, I trust you to bring him back to me if that’s what You have for us.
She’d been praying it so much that the thought autopiloted through her brain. Now if only the mindset would permeate her heart.
Maybe it was all the tour. Maybe if not for that, he’d have come back already or at least would have had more time for deeper conversations.
But I trust you, God.
“So how’s work?” Tegan thrummed her fingers against the armrests and looked around the cubical as if she’d go stir cr
azy if their roles were reversed.
“I heard today from one of the students I helped land a paid internship in Madison. She’s been at it a couple of weeks now and loves it. She’s over the moon.”
“And so are you.”
Adeline bit back a grin. The student had emailed a thank you and credited Adeline with instilling her with the confidence she needed to take the big step toward her dream job. “I’m making an impact.”
“And the church hasn’t fallen apart.”
“Olivia’s been doing a good job in the office.”
Tegan moved to the edge of her chair. “I should let you go. Just, I think you’re going to like what he says in that interview. It’s not the same as a Valentine’s Day date, but it’s something.”
She studied the cover again. Had he said something for her this time?
She looked up as her friend reached the door of the cubical. “Hey, Tegan?”
“Yeah.” She stopped in the doorway.
“You didn’t like Gannon.”
Tegan lifted a shoulder. “I never would’ve guessed he was serious enough to wait months for you, but here we are. Plus, he affected good change in your life. You’re happy, aren’t you?”
Adeline nodded.
“Have you told him about the tattoo yet?”
Adeline turned her wrist and looked at the Hebrew characters on the inside of her forearm. She’d brought a picture of Gannon’s tattoo when she’d had hers done so the artist could copy the style, though she’d picked a different verse. The idea had been to tell Gannon about it right away, but then she’d realized how brazen it had been, copying him in such a permanent way.
“You ought to.”
“I don’t know.” The longer she’d waited to tell him, the harder it’d been to think of how to bring it up. Maybe it’d be better to just show him whenever they saw each other again.
Similar thoughts had kept her from broaching the topic of their relationship. So much time had passed. And it wasn’t like she could ask him on a date when he wasn’t even in the country.