Page 87 of Siren

He hadn’t asked me to stay.

And I hadn’t asked him to come.

But we both knew what we were walking away from.

The tour was real. Eight weeks. Back-to-back shows. Europe. U.S. stops. Sold-out cities and dreams I deserved.

So I flew solo.

Berlin, Germany, First Stop on Tour

The lights were hot. Not warm. Not flattering.

Hot.

They pressed into my skin, made my satin cling and my glitter shimmer. The crowd was loud but distant. Thousands of people, hands raised, mouths open, waiting for the sound they came for.

But inside me, it was quiet. Still.

I stepped forward, letting the spotlight catch me in its grip. One golden beam. One moment. One mic.

The chords began.

I exhaled.

I sangMore Than A Moment, the proposal song. Wishing he was here to complete the melody…

I didn’t know what forever looked like

'Til you held me like it already lived

I was all walls and late goodbyes

But you taught me how to stay and give

The crowd moved as one. Like water. Like memory. Like breath.

But I didn’t see them.I saw him.

His jaw tightening in the studio. His hand gripping my thigh after we laid the track down. His voice thick when he whispered that he loved me into my mouth.

I missed him.

Not the sex. Not just the intimacy.

I missed our quiet.

Our stillness.

Our home we created in our hearts. In our souls.

I held the final note until it cracked something in my chest.

The audience erupted.

I bowed.

But I didn’t smile. Because my heart wasn’t on stage.

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