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Will you forgive me? I hope to ask in person sometime soon.
Love,
Sterling
He had written seven versions of the letter. In some of them he tried to explain too much about his father and it came off like he was giving excuses. In one version he begged her to take him back, promising to get on the first flight if she only sent him a text.
The final version felt like the most honest. He debated on how to sign it, but kept “love,” since that’s how she had signed her last note to him at the hotel in Santa Monica.
It was also completely true. He loved Reese.
Every day after he sent the letter, Sterling checked his phone for a response. It wasn’t like Reese could send a letter to the tour bus. A week after he mailed it, he got a simple text.
Reese: I forgive you. And will keep praying.
Sterling: Thank you. I’ll do the same for you.
He wanted to say so much more. Hoping she might respond, he had held the phone in his palm for twenty minutes after he sent the text. It had been weeks now. Sterling continued to hope. He also did as he promised: he prayed for Reese. The practice still felt a little strange after so many years hovering between doubt that God existed and fury if he did. Sterling found that being honest made the prayers feel more real, even in the times when he still struggled with anger or doubt. Prayer had started to feel less like a routine he did and more like a need.
Moby stopped Sterling just before they entered the green room. “How are you feeling about tomorrow? You ready for that?”
Sterling’s heart began moving faster at the thought. “More than ready. You?”
Moby laughed. “I’ve been waiting almost two months to finally meet Staci in person. So, yeah, I’m ready for tomorrow.”
“Just don’t screw up what you have to do for me.”
Moby held up his hands. “Me? You know I’ve got nothing but love for you, baby. You pay my bills. I don’t bite that hand.” They both laughed. “Maybe it will be the best night of our lives?”
Sterling thought back to the night spent with Reese at Shutters, playing Double Solitaire, laughing, snuggling on the balcony, kissing. “The best night ever is going to be a pretty tough one to beat.” He grinned and threw an arm around Moby’s shoulders. “But I’m hopeful.”
* * *
Reese tried to shove away the sadness she felt watching Staci get ready for her date with Moby. She definitely didn’t want her heartbreak over Sterling to be obvious, though Staci knew. They had agreed to keep the Sterling talk to a minimum, other than the occasional check-in where Reese made Staci pump Moby for information. He didn’t give up much. Every time she got Staci to ask, apparently Sterling was good. Just … good.
“That’s what you get for running away and never calling him again,” Staci had said, more than once. “If you want to know how he is, call the boy. He did send you that sweet letter.”
Reese had been surprised by the letter. Not just because the last time she received anything other than a bill in the mail had been years ago. The content surprised her. Sterling seemed more open. It sounded like he was dealing with the hurt that caused him to lash out. He took full responsibility without making excuses. It read as humble and honest. Reese only wished that he had been there in person to say the words. But with all that happened, maybe distance was better. Her feelings for him had not dimmed, and she didn’t know if she could handle seeing him again.
Reese had wanted to say more than the simple text, especially when he wrote back, saying he was praying for her. Sterling, praying? What exactly had been happening in his life since she saw him last? What she wanted more than anything was to get on a plane and go to him. She kept up with his tour schedule because it made her feel better knowing which city he was in.
She thought about calling him. Not just the day she got the letter, but every day since.
But Reese couldn’t bring herself to dial his number. She expected that she would start to feel better, or at least less broken, as time went on. Instead, she only missed Sterling more. The ache settled deeper in her bones. His apology meant a lot, but the distance between them seemed too great. Especially for such a short-lived relationship. He had been right when he said that the bubble had popped. It was over.
Which made it incredibly difficult to watch Staci putting on makeup, giddy with excitement for her date with Moby. But this is what best friends did.
“Do you think he’s going to like my hair? I had it in braids the whole time we’ve been talking. Going natural was probably a bad idea.” Staci rubbed a product into her big, shoulder-length curls.
“I think it looks amazing on you. I liked the braids too. Moby has natural hair. If he didn’t like it on you, that would be hypocritical. Honestly, I think he just likes you. And you are hot no matter what your hair looks like. You could totally get away with shaving it.”
Staci gave her a look. “I am not shaving my head.”
Reese giggled. “You’ve tried about every hairstyle except that over the years. Why not? You’ve got the bone structure. You’d look like a model.”
“Models aren’t five-foot-five with a booty,” Staci said.
“Moby will definitely like your booty.”
