Page 103 of Wish You Would

“What was I supposed to do?” I asked Simon, dragging myself back to the present. “What would I have even said?”

His eyes softened. Pulling a handkerchief from his pocket, he handed to me. I took it, puzzled until it blurred in front of my eyes. “Shoot,” I whispered, wiping at my tears.

“I think,” he said, putting his arm around me, “that there’s still plenty to say.”

Sniffling, I leaned my head on his shoulder. He hugged me tighter as my mind replayed the evening. After Gigi had spotted me, I ran. Too vulnerable to stand there any longer, but too stubborn, too masochistic to leave, I’d gone upstairs. There, I watched the rest of the show with my sister, ignoring the looks of concern she and Vaughn and Simon passed each other over my head.

One thing—one single thought—crystalized as I watched Gigi perform tonight:

I’d made the right choice.

Leaving her, forcing her hand, it had been the right choice. She was radiating happiness on that stage tonight. It was where she belonged. I knew—I knew—she wouldn’t have taken the gig if I’d stayed. Because, in her mind, it was me or the band.

I’m choosing you.

The memory was a knife beneath my ribs. Squeezing my eyes shut, I braced against the pain. That Gigi, the one who was so willing, so sure she had to sacrifice one thing she loved for another…if only she’d known about tonight. If only she could’ve seen into the future, glimpsed herself on that stage.

She’d have changed her mind then.

She’d have regretted choosing me.

I shook my head, moving away from Simon. Blotting at my tears with his handkerchief, I squared my shoulders. “No,” I said, certainty like iron in my bones. “There’s nothing left to say.”

Then, with one final, fortifying breath, I pushed away from the wall and walked away, leaving the could-have-beens behind me.

42

42 GIGI:

ONLY WANNA BE WITH YOU

“Are you sure about this?” Luke looked around the empty restaurant, skepticism in his blue eyes. “You know I could get you a much fancier place, right?”

I straightened the paper placemat on the table. Three days had passed since The Ledge show. Since I’d lost Parker in the crowd. Every second of those days had led to tonight.

“I’m sure.” I dismissed the flutter of nerves in my tummy. “Not everything requires fancy shit, Luke.”

“Oh, I know.” He adjusted the flowers in their vase, bringing the pink peony more front and center. “I just thought you’d want something…nicer for such an important moment.”

“Shrimpy Dick’s is plenty nice, thank you.” I blew out a deep breath and willed myself to calm. “Besides, it’s sentimental.”

He hummed dismissively and took one more lap around the restaurant. Probably looking for ways to turn the fancy factor up in the all-night diner. He’d find none. Shrimpy Dick’s was an institution in Port Agnes for a reason, and that reason had nothing to do with expensive menus full of things people couldn’t pronounce, or bougie-ass decor.

It was perfect for what I was about to do.

With that thought, a zap of anxiety rushed down my spine. Pushing away from the booth, I paced. I paced and I thought. I thought and I panicked.

“Luke,” I said, gripping the back of the booth. “This is a horrible idea, isn’t it?”

Luke’s attention moved from the retro pendant lights above each table. “Oh, no.” He closed the distance between us quickly, intention in his every step. “We are not packing this in, Georgia. We’ve all put too much work in for you to run scared.”

I glared, but I wasn’t sure if it was for the Georgia part or the rest of it. “I love that my future is hanging in the balance, and you’re more concerned about the effort you’ve put in to help me potentially humiliate myself.”

“Hey, time is money.” He lifted his dark brows. “I could tell you exactly how much money this particular chunk of time was, if you’d like to know.”

“No, no.” I waved him off. “I’m already freaking out. I don’t need to know how much you spent to close down the diner for me.” Shuddering, I turned away from him. “Too much pressure.”

Fuck, it was too much pressure. My knees gave out and I sat in the first seat to my left. Tidal waves crashed over me, first doubt, then fear. I gripped the table tight as I tried to stay afloat. “Shit,” I hissed, squeezing my eyes shut. “What am I doing?”

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