Page 81 of Chasing Forever
“It’s a fun date. Worth the cost.” She climbs in and situates herself.
Still no kiss. Barely any eye contact. Zero excitement to see me again. Her walls have been firmly erected once more.
I’m grasping at straws, trying to believe that it’s just that she doesn’t want to show me affection in front of her family. That once we’re alone, she’ll lean in again and press her lips to mine.
We drive to Lincoln as Poppy and Romy go on and on about Zander and all the facts they know about him. The biggest thing Romy’s concerned about is that he’s single. She’s living in a dreamland if she thinks she’s going to get backstage. Then again, Romy believes in signs and soulmates, so maybe Lottie got these tickets more for her sister than anything else.
“I still can’t believe we’re going! Tickets sold out within minutes. I’m still upset with that couple for all their damn questions. Our appointment at The Knotted Barn ran long, and I couldn’t get online to buy them. They’re lucky I didn’t miss ordering their cake or something.”
Lottie glances at them in the back seat. Her hands are clenched in her lap. “You need to get this crush under control.”
“Why? It’s endearing that she believes she’s meant to spend the rest of her life with the most famous country singer in the nation.” Poppy reaches to the front seat and turns up the music. “Let’s get ready.”
I didn’t even notice it was Zander Shaw on the radio.
I lean back in my seat, letting them sing and dance, feeling like the fourth wheel.
I want to ask Lottie what changed. Hell, I want to beg her to look at me like she did yesterday morning. But I keep my mouth shut and let them have their fun.
I’ll get her alone eventually. I just hope there’s still something left to salvage.
I park, and we file out of the truck and get in line with everyone else. There’re more cowboy hats here than at the rodeo. Lottie doesn’t pull away when I place my hand on her lower back, and I’m pretty sure she leans into my chest a bit as we wait through the excruciatingly long security line. I tell myself these are both good signs.
Poppy looks over her shoulder a few times, smiling up at me as if she couldn’t be happier I won the girl, but she’s wrong. This isn’t the Lottie I’ve had on my arm recently. Or from the store yesterday. Hell, she’s not even the Lottie from before we got married in Vegas. I’ve never seen this quiet and reserved version of Lottie. She’s lost in her head somewhere. And it’s killing me that I don’t know where her head is at.
Once we find our way to our seats, Romy walks over to the security people along the edge of the stage.
“We all knew she was going to try,” Poppy says, shaking her head.
A couple minutes later, Romy walks back to us with slumped shoulders. “No luck.”
Cameras are on everyone, scanning the crowd on the jumbo screen. Even though it isn’t exactly comfortable with Lottie at the moment, it’s nice to feel the excited energy of everyone here to experience the same thing.
The lights dim, and I take a chance and put my arm around Lottie, pulling her into my side. She doesn’t fight me, and I breathe a sigh of relief. The stage lights up and cheers explode around us, but I only look at her, staring into her eyes as though they hold the answers I can’t get her to say out loud.
Her hand lifts, and she cradles my jaw. The pain in her eyes hits me like a two by four to the head. She doesn’t feel it, and she doesn’t want to hurt me.
She’s done with me.
I bend down and kiss her forehead, trying like hell to tell her it’s okay, even though my heart is cracking into pieces and in jeopardy of splintering apart. Then I lower my head and say in her ear, “Enjoy the concert.”
She nods and turns to Poppy, who is jumping up and down to better see the stage.
I release my hold on Lottie and draw in a deep breath.
The three of them scream even louder when Zander comes on stage. The cameras scan the crowd, stopping on a few people who cheer excitedly at their moment in the spotlight.
Romy hops up on a chair, flailing her arms, and when she pops up on the screen just as Zander strums his guitar, he looks at the screen and points out to the audience as if he can see Romy through the mass of people.
Then the concert begins, and I figure it’ll be two hours of torture here, and another hour to get home before I can get the space and courage to ask Lottie what’s changed between us.
An hour into the concert, Romy is tapped on the shoulder and asked to go with someone from security.
Poppy grabs Romy’s arm. “You can’t go by yourself.”
The security guy looks at Poppy and shakes his head.
Romy waves and holds up her phone as if to say, I’ll text you.
