Page 24 of Giving Chase

"Complicated?" Michelle supplies, perching on the edge of my desk.

I nod, sinking into my chair. "How'd you guess?"

She rolls her eyes good-naturedly. "Please. It's you and Chase. When has it ever not been complicated?"

I turn to my dual monitors, pulling up Lila's projected numbers as a distraction. "It was... good. Professional. He looks healthy. Five years sober."

"But?" Michelle prompts, undeterred.

I pause, my cursor hovering over a particularly promising streaming forecast. "But... it's like no time has passed and all the time in the world has passed, all at once. He's still Chase, you know? Still has that way of looking at me like..."

"Like you're the only person in the room?" Michelle finishes softly.

I nod, not trusting my voice.

"And that scares you."

"Wouldn't it scare you?" I ask, finally looking up at her. "After everything that happened? The rehab, the things he said, the years of silence?"

Michelle considers this, absently fiddling with a golden record on my wall - Incendiary Ink's second album. "Yeah, it would. But Eliza, at some point you have to decide if the potential for happiness outweighs the fear of getting hurt again. You can't keep producing other people's love songs if you're not willing to star in your own."

Before I can respond, my phone buzzes. It's a text from Chase.

CHASE: Band rehearsal at 2. Song choices finalized. You should be there.

I show the text to Michelle, who raises an eyebrow. "Well, looks like the universe is giving you a push. You going?"

I hesitate, my mind already conjuring up a list of excuses. Board meetings. Conference calls. Lila's contract. But I know none of them will stick. "I have to. It's my job, after all."

Michelle stands, heading for the door. "Sure, keep telling yourself that's the only reason. Just... keep an open mind, okay?"

As she leaves, I turn back to my computer, trying to lose myself in contract negotiations and damage control. But my mind keeps drifting to the upcoming rehearsal, to seeing Chase again, to hearing the songs they've chosen.

Before I know it, it's 1:45 and I'm pulling into the parking lot of Sonic Boom Studios. The faded mural of music legends on the exterior wall brings back a flood of memories - late night recording sessions, heated creative debates, stolen moments in dark corners.

I take a deep breath, the familiar scent of old cigarette smoke and stale coffee hitting me as I enter. Some things never change.

The sound of music greets me as I step into Studio A. They're in the middle ofOff the Record, and for a moment, I'm transported back in time. Chase's voice, still as powerful and emotive as ever, wraps around me like a familiar embrace. The years fall away, and I'm that young A&R rep again, watching her first big signing take flight.

Will sees me first, offering a wave from behind his drum kit, never missing a beat. Mark nods in acknowledgment, fingers flying across his guitar strings in that intricate bridge section that always impressed me. And Chase... Chase's eyes lock withmine, a small smile playing at his lips as he continues to sing, his fingers never faltering on his bass.

They finish the song, and after a brief discussion filled with the shorthand of a band that's been together for decades, they launch intoBurning Bridges. It's a harder song, full of pain and anger, and I remember all too well the tumultuous time when it was written. I see Chase's jaw clench on certain lines, and I wonder if he's remembering too.

But it's the third song that changes everything.

The opening chords ofWhispered Truthsfill the room, and I feel my breath catch. I've always loved this song, but something feels different this time. Maybe it's the way Chase's voice softens on certain lines, or the way his eyes keep finding mine as he sings, as if each word is meant for me alone.

And suddenly, like feedback from an amp turned up too high, it hits me. The lyrics I've heard a hundred times before suddenly take on new meaning:

In the silence between words,

In the spaces we don't fill,

There's a truth we've never heard,

A promise we can't fulfill.

It's about me. About us. All this time, and I never realized.

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