Page 36 of Rockstar's Accidental Marriage

“Thanks, Kendrick,” I whisper, my throat tightening.

Sam looks at me, his expression calm but resolute. “We’ve got this, Emily. I promise.”

And as I see the resolution in his eyes, I finally let myself believe him.

After a while, Cass, Kendrick, and Cassidy leave, though not without multiple rounds of hugs and reassurances from Kendrick and a gruff warning from Cass to “take care of her.”

“You’ve got a baby to think about now,” he says before he leaves, his voice softer than usual. “Don’t push yourself too hard, Em.”

“I won’t,” I promise, feeling a little guilty.

As the door closes behind them, the room falls quiet again. It’s just Sam and me now and the baby. My hand is resting over my still-flat abdomen.

I glance at Sam, watching as he sinks into the chair beside my bed. His usually relaxed demeanor is still there, but it’s muted, his shoulders tense, and his jaw set like he’s holding something back.

“You’re awfully quiet,” I say softly, breaking the silence.

He looks up, his green eyes meeting mine. “Just thinking.”

“About what?”

“About a lot of things,” he admits, leaning back in the chair. “About you, the baby... everything.”

I hesitate, then decide to ask the question that’s been lingering in the back of my mind since earlier. “You said something about your dad before. That he raised you on his own?”

Sam stiffens slightly, his fingers tapping against the arm of the chair. “Yeah,” he says after a moment. “He did.”

“What happened to your mom?” I ask gently.

He exhales, his gaze shifting to the window. “She left when I was a kid. I don’t even really remember her. Just bits and pieces. My dad doesn’t talk about her much, and I never asked.”

I don’t say anything, letting the silence stretch between us. I can tell this isn’t something he talks about often, if at all.

“It’s been just the two of us for as long as I remember,” he continues, his voice quieter now. “We didn’t have much, but he did his best. He worked hard to keep food on the table and a roof over our heads.”

He pauses, his expression distant. “He’s got a small farm down in Ocala. Cattle, chickens, a couple of horses. It’s not much, but it’s his. He’s been there all his life.”

“Do you see him often?” I ask.

“Not as much as I should,” he admits, his tone laced with regret. “The band keeps me busy, but I try to visit as often as possible.”

“You do?” I ask in surprise.

He shrugs, but there’s a flicker of something vulnerable in his eyes. “Of course. He’s my dad.”

“But, you never talk about him,” I say, with a confused look.

“He gave up a lot for me over the years. He wanted me to stay on the farm, but I, well—music was always my passion. I wanted something different.” Glancing at me, he admits in a low voice, “I haven’t exactly made him proud.”

“That can’t be true,” I say firmly.

He looks at me, his brow furrowed.

“You’re a rockstar. You play in one of the biggest bands in the country,” I continue. “You’ve worked hard to get where you are. He’s proud of you, Sam. I’m sure of it.”

A faint smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “You think so?”

“I know so,” I say, my voice soft but certain.

---