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by Kelly Elliott


  “I’ve written about this place in a lot of songs.”

  I didn’t want to look at him, but my head turned anyway.

  He was staring straight ahead, looking lost in a memory.

  “You don’t listen to any of my songs?” he asked.

  “N-no,” I managed to get out. My eyes were still fixed on him. I didn’t want to believe he was really there. In the flesh, sitting next to me in the very spot I had given everything to him. Not just my body, but my heart and soul.

  The corner of his mouth rose slightly. “Guess that makes sense.”

  “What makes sense?”

  Anson turned and looked at me. My breath caught in my chest as those familiar blue eyes looked deep into mine.

  “What about the dedications? Did you read any of them?”

  I frowned. “What are you talking about?”

  Sadness swept over his face and he looked straight ahead.

  “What dedications, Anson?”

  “The albums, the dedications on the albums.”

  I searched his profile as he sat there. I had no idea what in the hell he was talking about.

  “I guess I thought you’d see those, and you’d hear what I was feeling in the songs. And you’d just know.”

  Frowning, I slowly shook my head. “You were trying to tell me something?”

  “You wouldn’t answer my phone calls or text messages, Bristol. It was the only way I knew how to tell you.”

  “You stopped sending them, Anson! I was angry, I needed time to figure everything out. But then you stopped sending them altogether. Then it eventually didn’t matter anymore.”

  He snapped his head and looked at me. “Why? Because of Josh?”

  My eyes widened in shock. “You’re going to get mad because I dated someone?”

  A harsh laugh came from those soft, beautiful lips. “Someone? He was my fucking best friend from high school!”

  I looked away. “Well, some of us didn’t have access to super models and singers to date.”

  “I didn’t…”

  Quickly, I stood. “Don’t even think of saying what you were going to say. You moved on, I moved on. It’s not like we cheated on each other. Besides, I can only imagine the women who have thrown themselves at you over the past six years.”

  “I didn’t fuck around, Bristol. I dated a couple of people, but they didn’t mean anything. They weren’t…”

  He looked away and sighed before he brought his attention back to me. “They weren’t you.”

  I swallowed hard and then wrapped my arms around my body. The sudden chill in the air made me shiver.

  “Troy Maven.”

  My stomach dropped for a moment as the name brought back a barrage of memories. I couldn’t help the stupid betraying smile. It was the name Anson had come up with when I insisted on writing notes to him in middle school. He was embarrassed a girl was writing him, so he came up with a name: Troy Maven.

  “Each record was dedicated to Troy Maven.”

  “What?” I whispered in confusion.

  “Were you that angry with me that you wouldn’t listen to a single goddamn song? I thought you heard them and just didn’t care. I thought you blew me off, Bri. I thought you…never really loved me.”

  My head was swimming with his confession about the dedication, and now he was hitting me with this. I tried to make my mind work, but my silence only made him angrier.

  “I needed you, Bri. God, how I fucking needed you. Wanted you. Felt like I was going to go mad without you. All those things I put out there, only to have you ignore every single one of them. Like none of this ever mattered…like we never mattered.”

  I shook my head. “I…didn’t know, Anson. I mean, Ida always tried to get me to listen to your songs, but it was too painful to even hear your voice, even six years later…even now.”

  He stared at me, hurt and anger in his eyes. How could he sit here and place all this blame on me?

  “You left me! You knew that night you would be leaving. I asked you to promise me that we’d talk about it the next day. You didn’t even give me a chance to let it all sink in. To figure out a plan. You simply left without a backward glance. I would have gone with you, Anson. I told you I would’ve followed you in a few days, just not the next day. I wanted to go with you. I loved you more than life itself, and you up and left. Then you wrote that song and…”

  This time it was Anson who looked away.

  “You cannot lay all the fault on me. You wrote that song and made it very clear where I stood in your life.”

  He tossed his hands into the air. “That stupid fucking song!”

  I let out a humorless laugh. “Yes. That stupid fucking song that changed both of our lives. It was that song that made you famous. Your anger for me is what made you a success,” I said as I pointed to myself. “Do you know how that felt? What people said to me after that song came out? I hated that song, and after that, do you really blame me for not wanting to listen to any more?”

  “The phone calls. The pleas for you to forgive me. What about all of those?”

  My mouth opened, and then I shut it. I closed my eyes and took in a deep breath. I wasn’t even sure I wanted to think about any of it.

  I exhaled and looked directly into those beautiful eyes of his. My God, they knew how to make a girl’s heart beat like a hummingbird. How many other women had gotten lost in those eyes?

  My voice shook as I spoke. I had to stop and clear my throat to continue. “I did call you. You never called me back, so I got the message.”

  His face constricted. “When did you call? Did you leave a message on my voicemail?”

  I shook my head. “No, I called you after one of the voice messages you left me. My heart was torn in two, and I missed you so much. I hated what had happened between us, and I hated how sad you sounded. I needed to hear your voice.”

  I wiped a tear away. Anson seemed like he was going to pull me to him, but he stopped and waited for me to go on.

  “Some guy answered your phone. I asked to speak to you, and he started asking me how I got your number. I told him who I was. I said that I was from Comfort and was your girlfriend.”

  His eyebrows pulled together in a hard line. “Someone answered my phone? Who was it?”

  “Um, he said his name was Rob…no…it was Bob.” I shook my head and tried to remember.

  “Bob McAllen?”

  “I think so, yes, that sounds familiar. Anyway, he said you were in the recording booth. Then he asked if I had called because you’d been nominated for best new artist of the year. I was so proud of you in that moment. He laughed and said it was unheard of for a newcomer so fresh on the scene to win it. He said you were going to be a superstar and that his hometown should be proud of him. Then he said you had a day full of interviews and an event that night you had to prepare for, but that he would tell you I called. He promised me he’d tell you. When I didn’t hear back from you, I called again, and some lady answered your phone.”

  Confusion danced across Anson’s face.

  “I hung up the phone and realized I was too late,” I finished.

  “Too late?” he asked, his voice a whisper so low I hardly heard it.

  “Yes. I’d pushed you away by being stubborn and prideful.” I wiped at my tears as I went on. “Anson, if I had gone to Nashville to try and make things work between us, it would have been all wrong.”

  “How would it have been wrong, Bri?”

  “You shot to stardom! You would have thought I only came because you were successful.”

  “You know I would have never thought that.”

  I swallowed hard. “Maybe not, but the tabloids would have…and I know you and you would have always blamed yourself for me giving up my dreams. I wanted to be with you, but I couldn’t compete with the new life you had. I knew deep in my heart that I wouldn’t be happy in Nashville long-term. Yes, I’d be happy with you, but what about when you were gone, touring the world and off doing m
usic things, and I was there. Alone. I was scared that no matter what I did, it was going to be the wrong thing.”

  His confusion was replaced by anger.

  “We could have lived anywhere, Bri. I could have lived in Comfort.”

  It was my turn to be confused. “What do you mean?”

  His pulled off his baseball cap and pushed his hand through his hair. He paced away from me, as if trying to bring his feelings into check.

  “Fucking hell, Bristol. I only needed to be in Nashville to catch a break. To try and get a record label to notice me. I got lucky. So damn lucky. After my first album came out, I could have moved back to Comfort at any time. Shit, I could have built a recording studio and been here whenever I wasn’t on tour. We never had to make Nashville our home. I asked you for a year in Nashville, Bri.”

  “I…I…I didn’t…I didn’t think about that.”

  He scoffed. “No. It looks like neither you nor my father gave that a thought.”

  “Your father?” I asked.

  “Why is everyone making me feel like what I did was wrong? I pursued my own dreams. Why was that wrong?”

  “It wasn’t wrong, Anson. It was how you up and left! You didn’t even stop to think about the people around you, how this affected our lives. Do not think for one minute that I’m not proud of the success you’ve achieved. If anyone knows how much you deserved it, that person is me. But you walked away from us, Anson. I asked you not to, and you did. Then you turned around and wrote a song about how you were never coming back to Comfort! You burned those memories in the lyrics of one song. How was I supposed to feel?”

  “I was angry!” he shouted.

  I looked down at the ground and stared for a moment. “Well, so was I, Anson. So was I.”

  “I’m sorry, Bri. If I could go back and change how I left, I swear to God I would. I don’t know how to fix my mistakes from the past.”

  I lifted my eyes to his. “I don’t think you can. We can only move on and learn from it all.”

  The corner of his mouth twitched. “Speaking of moving on, you sure did it with a bang. You and Josh?”

  That change of subject threw me for a loop.

  “Me and Josh?”

  “Yes. You looked pretty damn happy with him on all your Instagram posts.”

  “You follow my Instagram?” I asked with a stunned voice.

  His face softened slightly. “Of course I do.”

  Those four silly words made my chest warm and my stomach flip. I was hit with instant regret for not listening to his songs, so hard, I nearly stumbled back.

  “Um, we dated for a while, that’s it.”

  He nodded. “Looks like I was replaced, once again.”

  I stared at him, not quite sure what he meant.

  “Was it serious?” he asked.

  I drew in a deep breath and let it out slowly. “Not like us.”

  “How long did you date?”

  “Anson, does any of that matter?”

  “How long did you date, Bri?”

  I sighed. “I don’t know. A year, off and on. Like I said, it wasn’t anything like you and me.”

  “Did you love him?”

  My throat felt thick, and I couldn’t respond.

  “Right.”

  He turned to walk away from me yet again. A part of me wanted to let him go. Let him believe what he wanted to believe. But the other part of me, the stupid part that was still in love with him couldn’t do that.

  “No. I didn’t love him.”

  Anson stopped, and for a moment I thought he was going to turn back around, but he started to walk again. I placed my hand over my mouth to hold back my tears and quickly turned away and stared out over the rolling hills.

  Bristol

  MY HANDS SHOOK as I pulled open the drawer and took out the box.

  I sat down on the sofa, and I stared at it for what seemed like forever.

  “Just open it, for Pete’s sake, Bristol!” I said to myself.

  With a quick movement, I took the lid off.

  Three CDs sat on top of a book. A book I had made with all the news articles I had found on Anson and his career.

  I picked up the first CD.

  Let It Burn was the title. I opened it and took out the leaflet. Scanning through the songs, I couldn’t help but stop and read a few. I kept searching, until, finally, at the end of the leaflet was the list of everyone involved in the making of this album.

  There it was…the dedication.

  I brought my hand up to my mouth as I read it.

  This album resulted in a song that I wrote after my heart felt like it was ripped from my chest. It’s crazy how our emotions drive our words. To quote a line from one of the other songs on the album…

  “Love is still there, deep within my heart. A soft whisper in the night, to remind me you’ll always be the light. Our love is still there.”

  This album is for Troy Maven—I would have never made it this far without your belief in me.

  I closed my eyes and felt the tears roll down my face.

  After a few minutes, I wiped them away and took out the next CD.

  This one was called Beginnings. My hands shook as I repeated the process of scanning the songs and finding the dedication.

  “This album is for you, Troy. Remember that night on the hill? Every song on this album has been written with that guitar you gave me.”

  “Oh, Anson,” I whispered as I clutched the CD to my chest.

  I wasn’t sure my heart could take looking at the next CD, If I Loved You More, but I found the dedication and burst into tears. It didn’t mention the code name, but his words gutted me.

  “For her…because I don’t know where I begin and she ends.”

  “Good God! No wonder he thought I wasn’t interested!”

  My finger ran along the words. I read them over and over until my eyes strained.

  “I don’t know where I begin and you end, either, Anson Meyer. I never have.”

  When my phone rang, I quickly wiped my tears away and tried to get myself righted.

  “H-hello?”

  “Bristol?”

  I pulled the phone away. It was a number I didn’t recognize.

  “Who is this?” I asked.

  “Is this Bristol Overmann?”

  Oh, no. If this was a reporter, I was going to throw my phone.

  “Why? What do you want!” I nearly shouted in the phone. “You’re not getting an interview from me!”

  “This is Annie Foster, we, um, we talked about the tea box subscription.”

  I covered my mouth with my hand and nearly screamed. Of all the people I had expected, the lady who owned a tea store in Oregon and sent out some of the most amazing subscription boxes I’d ever seen wasn’t one of them. She had seen my posts on Instagram and reached out to me about partnering up for a box. When she found out I made my own lavender tea, she was over-the-moon excited about it.

  “Oh! Annie, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to answer the phone like that.”

  “No worries at all. Bad day?”

  “Something like that. Anyway, I thought it was someone else.”

  “Well, I’m hoping I can pay a visit and cheer you up then.”

  I gasped. “Are you in Texas?”

  “Yes! I know I told you I’d call if I was ever down your way, and guess what, I’m in Austin! I looked to see how far away you are, and it’s not that terrible of a drive. I found a cute little place to stay the night. Maybe two if I like the little town.”

  My heart drummed in my chest. This would be amazing! If she liked Farmhouse Tea, and more importantly, the lavender tea, we could potentially work together. It would bring more people through Comfort and to the tea room.

  “Oh, where are you staying in town?”

  “Hotel Faust! It looks adorable. And from what I can tell, it seems to be right around the corner from your tea room.”

  “Yes! I’m right down the road. You’ll love it there; my best fr
iend’s parents own it. When were you planning on coming into town?”

  “The day after tomorrow.”

  I smiled and tried not to let my mind race with a million and one different things. Everything for her afternoon tea needed to be perfect.

  “Wonderful. I’m assuming you’ll want to do an afternoon tea. Will you have any guests with you?”

  “No, it will only be me. I do hope some of your friends will be able to join us, though. I truly want the full afternoon tea experience in your tea room.”

  Of course she would want to see how I handled a group of people. “Yes, of course. How about we say two at the tea room?”

  “Sounds amazing! I’ll see you then!”

  The line went dead, and I glanced down at the items spread around me.

  “Anson,” I whispered. I was going to have to talk to him. Mindy was right, we needed to work things out. That was either going to lead to friendship or…

  “No, I can’t think about that right now.”

  I picked up my phone and called my mother.

  “Hello, Darling.”

  “Hey, Mama,” I said as I gently placed everything back into the box and set it on the coffee table. “Please tell me you’re free the day after tomorrow.”

  “I am, why?”

  “Annie Foster will be in town and wants me to host an afternoon tea.”

  My mother let out a little cry of happiness. “The lady who does the tea subscription boxes?”

  “Yes! She wants me to invite my own friends. We have our normal afternoon tea with six people booked that day. It’s a small bridal shower-type thing. I’m going to need all hands on deck, and we need to find some folks to come to the tea with Annie.”

  “Okay. Well, Mindy and Terry will be helping with the tea and the food. Anna can come in and help out. I’ll be in the kitchen, of course.”

  “No! Mom, I need you at the table with Annie. Someone has to make sure…gossip doesn’t start.”

  “Right. Okay. Then we should invite Ida and Pearl. No one would dare talk about Anson with this mother and grandmother there.”

  I nodded. “That’s true.”

  “I’ll call them both and take care of inviting them.”

  Suddenly my nerves got the best of me. “Who else can we invite?”

 

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