Page 6 of The Fangirl and the Crooner

I’m afraid it’s too late. Even if I make an effort to forgive her, things will never be the same between us. Whatever Pressley and I had going, it’s over.

Chapter

Five

Pressley

“Good morning,” I say, looking up from my phone as Keegan wanders into the kitchen. She looks a bit shell-shocked, so I set my phone aside and focus my full attention on her. “What’s wrong?”

Her wide eyes zero in on me, and she shakes her head. “My mom just called.”

“Seriously?” I ask, a shiver of surprise rippling through me.

Keegan and her parents have never been close, even when she was young and still lived under their roof. The way I understand it, they never wanted kids and saw her as an accident. A mistake.

The second she was legally an adult and out on her own, they picked up and moved to Canada, following their own dreams. The only contact she’s had with themsince is a phone call each Christmas and a card every year on her birthday.

And today is neither of those things.

“Did something happen?” I ask, my mind flying to worst-case scenarios like a fatal car accident or some life-threatening disease.

Keegan must hear the panic in my voice, because she visibly snaps out of her daze and shakes her head vigorously. “No. Nothing like that. They’re fine, but…they’re coming to visit.”

“What?”

The shout pops out of my mouth before I can stop it. She hasn’t seen her mom and dad in years, and I understand now why she looked so off-kilter when she walked into the kitchen.

Keegan slides into the chair next to me at the table, and I hop up to make her a cup of coffee while she gathers her wits. She doesn’t speak until I hand her the cup and slide back into my own chair.

“Thanks,” she says, nodding to the mug in her hand. “I texted them after Trace proposed, just to let them know I’m getting married. I guess––somewhere deep down inside me––I hoped they’d come to the wedding. I never got a response, so I gave up and let go of any disappointment I was harboring. It was a longshot, and I knew it when I sent the message.”

“What did your mom say when she called?” I ask, keeping my tone gentle and even.

I’m not sure if this impending visit is good news or bad in Keegan’s mind. She obviously has some desire to see them, since she held hope they’d make it to herwedding, but an unexpected visit right now? I’m sure her mind is reeling, and her emotions are all over the place.

“She apologized for not texting back right away,” she says, her words slow and measured. “She was at some weeks-long painting retreat and had surrendered her phone because the attendees weren’t allowed to have contact with the outside world. She got the message last night, and flew home to tell dad. They decided it was time for a visit, but it was too late to call, so she waited until this morning.”

I take a few moments to absorb that information while I study Keegan’s expression. She looks confused and still a little rattled, but there’s an opposing emotion shining in her eyes.

It looks a lot like hope.

Despite the way they raised her, making her feel like some kind of imposition, Keegan still longs for their love. I suppose it’s only natural, wanting your parents to care about you, and if they’re willing to extend an olive branch and try to improve their relationship with their estranged daughter, who am I to judge?

“That’s great, Keegan,” I say, and her eyes fill with tears.

“It is, isn’t it?” she asks in a small, shaky voice.

“It really is,” I agree, and her tears spill over as she chuckles.

“Sorry. I’m just a little overwhelmed, I guess,” she says as she brushes the wetness from her cheeks.

“How do you think Trace will react?” I ask after taking another sip of my coffee.

He’s very protective of her, and I’m sure he’ll havesome reservations about their visit. They hurt her terribly, and Keegan’s fiancé has no qualms about handing out a verbal––or even physical––smackdown to those who insult the ones he loves.Especially Keegan.

“I don’t know,” she says, deep furrows forming in her brow. “I need to talk to him about it, but he’s already at the inn. They want to stay for at least a couple of weeks, and…”

Her words trail off as her worried eyes snap up to mine.

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