Page 36 of Madness

"Time's up," I mutter, scrambling out of bed. I pull on my jeans and search for my shirt, finding it tangled in the sheets.

Lauren helps me dress, her movements quick but her touch lingering. As I shrug on my jacket, she pulls me in for one last, fierce kiss.

"Call me later?" she asks, a hint of vulnerability in her voice.

I cup her face in my hands, meeting her eyes. "Count on it. This isn't goodbye. It's just... see you later."

She nods, a small smile tugging at her lips. I give her one last quick kiss before slipping out of the bedroom.

I make it to the front door just as I hear Roman's voice calling out, "Mommy?"

As I step outside, closing the door quietly behind me, I feel a pang in my chest. Part of me wants to stay, to ruffle Roman's hair and see his gap-toothed grin. But I know Lauren's right – we need to take this slow, for Roman's sake as much as our own.

I head to my car, already missing the warmth of Lauren's bed, of Lauren herself. But as I slide behind the wheel, I find myself humming the new melody. I may be leaving, but I'm taking something with me – the start of a new song, and the promise of something real with Lauren.

I pull out my phone again, adding one last line before I drive away:

"In this limbo between healing and pain

We dare to hope, to feel alive again"

The words still aren't perfect, but they're true. And for now, that's enough.

The streets of LA are surprisingly quiet as I drive to our practice space. My fingers tap out the rhythm of the new song on the steering wheel, my mind still back in Lauren's house.

I pull into the parking lot of the nondescript warehouse we rent. Brad's car is already there. Perfect. I grab my bass and the notebook where I scribbled down the lyrics, then head inside.

The familiar smell of stale beer and amp dust greets me as I push open the door. Brad's sitting on a beat-up couch, acoustic guitar in hand, looking up as I enter.

"Morning, sunshine," he grins. "You look like you've had an interesting night."

I glance down at myself briefly, not seeing anything too crazy, a little wrinkled maybe. “Why’s that?”

“You haven’t changed clothes since yesterday.”

I roll my eyes but can't hide my smile. "Whatever. Listen, I've got something I want to run by you."

Brad raises an eyebrow, setting his guitar aside. "Oh? Let's hear it."

I pull out my phone, playing the voice memo I recorded at Lauren's. As the rough melody and lyrics fill the room, I watch Brad's face. His expression shifts from curiosity to concentration, fingers tapping out the rhythm on his knee.

When it ends, he nods slowly, scratching at his dark blonde beard. "There's definitely something there. It's different from our usual stuff, but... I like it. It's raw. Real."

"Yeah," I agree, sitting down next to him. "I think it could be something special."

Brad gives me a knowing look. "This about that waitress? Lauren, right?"

I nod, suddenly finding the frayed edge of my jeans very interesting. "Yeah. We, uh... things are getting serious."

"I can tell," Brad says softly. Then he sighs. "Look, Dakota... you know I'm happy for you, right? But the tour..."

"I know," I cut him off. "Believe me, I know. But this... it feels different, Brad. She's different."

Brad's quiet for a moment, strumming a few chords absently. "You haven't really gotten serious with anyone since Chloe, have you?"

I shake my head, feeling the familiar ache at the mention of my late wife. "No. Didn't feel right. Until now."

"Being on the road, it's tough on relationships," Brad says gently. "Even established ones. And you're just starting out with Lauren."

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