Page 80 of Our Final Encore

“I mean it, I hope you won’t give up on this.”

A nervous laugh escapes me. “It’s not really anything. I don’t make money off of it or anything like that.”

“But you could,” he passes the phone back to me. “You could make a book of poetry, or sell prints.”

“I guess. Seems like a big investment that might not be worth it, though.”

“Is there a reason you don’t put your name on there?”

I pause for a second. “I’d be embarrassed if people who knew me in real life saw it.”

“Embarrassed? You should never be embarrassed about doing something you love.”

He would say that.“I don’t know. I don’t really fit the aesthetic. Poetry girls are supposed to be cute and clean andsuper organized, right? I’m…messy,” I shrug, placing my phone on the coffee table in front of us.

When I look back at him he’s staring at me, his mouth pulled into a frown as his eyes study my face. “You really don’t see how fucking perfect you are, do you?” Warmth fills every part of my body from my belly to my fingertips, but I remain silent. “You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met.”

The air around us crackles, and suddenly I’m aware of how close together we are on this small couch. His green eyes are heavy-lidded as they stare into mine.

“I guess we should get ready for bed,” I say, my voice squeakier than normal. “I can sleep down here.

“There are two bedrooms upstairs.”

“Oh.” For some reason I almost expected him to book a place with only one bedroom. Even though I should be relieved, I’m slightly disappointed. “Well, perfect,” I say as I quickly get up and grab my bag, making my way towards the stairs.

I glance back at him still sitting on the sofa, and his eyes are slowly sweeping down my body, taking in every new curve that’s formed in the last four months. His gaze causes goosebumps to break out over my skin, and I suck in a quick inhale before continuing up the stairs and finding the master bedroom.

It’s pretty large, with a king sized bed that’s covered in dark blue bedding. Black and white photographs of the ocean are hung all over the walls, and there’s a sliding door that leads to a balcony.

After setting my stuff down on the bed, I walk out onto the balcony, the salty night air enveloping me in its warmth. I have a partial view of the ocean, and I can just barely make out the sounds of the waves crashing on the shore in the distance.

I glance at the door of the bedroom, wondering if Alex will come find me. I’m not sure why he would when all I do is keep pushing him away, but part of me hopes that he will.

After a while I walk back inside, locking the balcony door behind me before changing into my pajamas and crawling into bed. It’s huge in comparison to my double bed at home, and it feels strangely empty and cold. I turn out the lamp on the side table and try to shut my eyes, knowing that I probably won’t be able to sleep at all tonight. I’ve always had difficulty sleeping in new places, whether it be a friend’s house or a hotel, I usually end up staring at the ceiling until the sun comes up.

Moments later, I hear the faint strumming of guitar strings from outside my room. I started to assume he was asleep already, but I’m relieved that he isn’t. I hate being the only one left awake.

I crawl out of bed and tiptoe down the hall, peeking my head into the second bedroom. It’s a lot smaller and more basic, with a smaller bed. He’s sitting cross-legged on the floor, guitar in his lap, and a notebook splayed open on the floor beside him.

“Hey,” I say quietly.

He peeks up at me, his brows furrowed. “I didn’t mean to wake you up, I’m sorry.”

I shake my head. “You didn’t.” I walk over and sit beside him, leaning my back against the bed. “It sounded good.”

His lips curl up in the corners as he jots a few more words onto the page. “I just came up with it, you wanna hear it?”

I nod and he begins strumming the same melody from before. It’s gentle and soft, almost like a lullaby. He closes his eyes before he begins singing the lyrics.

Quiet domestic life,

Baby sleeping through the night,

Tell me we’ll be alright.

I could go on like this forever,

If my back don’t go out, if the work don’t dry up,

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