Page 62 of Rockstar Daddy's Second Chance

As we stand there, the weight of the night finally lifting, I realize that even in the chaos, there is healing and hope. It’s fragile, but it’s enough to start rebuilding.

Twenty-Nine

Kendrick

The boutique is warm, with soft lights glowing over racks of evening gowns that look like they’ve been plucked straight from a fairytale. Emily is a force of nature, darting between displays with an energy that belies her petite frame. Her dark hair bounces with each step, blue eyes gleaming with purpose; she pulls a vibrant red gown from the rack the saleswoman left with us.

“This one,” she declares, holding it up to me. “No more mom sweaters or neutral tones. At the awards, you’re going to turn every head in the room.”

I chuckle, nervously fingering the fabric of the dress. “Emily, I don’t know… this feels a little too bold for me,” I say, running my fingers over the fabric.

Emily sighs, dramatically placing her hands on her hips. “Kendrick, if you’re going to be with Cass, you have to own it. The spotlight isn’t something you can avoid anymore. And trust me, Cass will love seeing you in this.”

Her words sink in as I glance at my reflection in the full-length mirror. She’s right. If I’m going to stand by Cass’s side, I need to embrace the life–and the attention that comes with it.

“Okay,” I say, straightening my shoulders. “Let’s try it.”

Emily grins triumphantly and ushers me into the fitting room. The gown hugs my curves perfectly, the deep red fabric shimmering as it catches the light. The neckline is elegant but daring, and the slit up one side reveals just enough leg to feel sophisticated yet sexy.

When I step out, Emily lets out a low whistle. “Now that’s what I’m talking about! Kendrick, you look amazing.” She grimaces. “I wish I was tall and willowy like you. Stately, instead of short.”

“Emily, you’re perfectly petite,” I argue. Feeling a rush of confidence as I turn to see myself in the mirror. For the first time in years, I feel... beautiful and sexy. Not just Cassidy’s mom or the woman who works at Heart & Grinds, but someone who belongs beside Cass Wild.

“You’re right,” I admit, smiling at Emily. “This is the one.”

“Of course I’m right,” Emily says with a wink. “Now, let’s get shoes, accessories, and—oh! Maybe we need to overhaul yourentire wardrobe. Cass can’t keep showing up looking like a rock god while you’re in Target chic. It’s time to level up. And I’ll be your stylist.”

We spend the rest of the afternoon shopping, Emily coaxing me into trying things I’d never have considered on my own—sleek pencil skirts, fitted blouses, and heels high enough to make me dizzy. By the time we leave, my arms are laden with bags, and I’m feeling more ready than ever to step into this new chapter of my life.

It’s finally the evening of the awards. Cassidy is staying with her grandparents, while Cass and I have a room here in town. As the sleek black car glides to a stop outside the awards venue, my nerves start to bubble to the surface. The flashing lights of the cameras are already visible through the tinted windows, and I can feel the buzz of anticipation in the air.

Sitting beside me, looking handsome in his black Armani suit, Cass reaches over and squeezes my hand. “You’ve got this,” he says, his voice steady and grounding. “You look stunning, Kendrick. And no matter what happens out there, just focus on me. The rest doesn’t matter.” His eyes linger on mine. His admiration is clear, and it makes my heart flutter.

As we step out of the car and onto the red carpet, the flash of cameras blinds me for a moment. The crowd’s murmurs swell into a roar as we step forward. Clinging to Cass’s arm, I draw confidence from his steady presence. It’s a whirlwind of lights, voices, and chaos, but I keep my head high and my focus firmly on Cass.

Reporters shout questions, their voices blending into a cacophony of curiosity:

“Cass, who’s the gorgeous mystery woman at your side?”

“Is this the new love of your life?”

“Can we expect wedding bells?”

Cass remains calm, his demeanor unshaken as he guides me through the uproar toward the entrance. I focus on keeping my expression neutral, though I’m shaking like a leaf inside.

When we finally step into the building, the noise fades, replaced by the low hum of conversation and the clinking of glasses. The venue is breathtaking, with glittering chandeliers hanging from the ceiling and elegant tables draped in white linen.

“You did amazing,” Cass whispers, his hand brushing mine.

I smile up at him, feeling a rush of gratitude for his steady presence. “Thanks, Cass. I couldn’t have done it without you.”

As the ceremony begins, I find myself caught up in the glamour and excitement of it all. The performances are electrifying, the speeches heartfelt, and every now and then, I catch Cass looking at me with a small, private smile that leaves me breathless.

When his category is announced, tension ripples through our table. Cass’s name is called, and the applause is thunderous ashe stands, winning the award for Best Male Artist. He leans down, brushing a kiss against my cheek before heading to the stage.

I watch, pride swelling in my chest as he accepts the award. His speech is humble and gracious. He thanks his bandmates, his parents, and his sister, and then, to everyone’s surprise, he looks directly at me.

“I want to thank my new family,” he says, his voice steady but filled with emotion. “They inspire me and remind me of what truly matters. This award belongs to them as much as it does to me.”

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