Page 104 of Three Months Yesterday

I pull her back into my arms, holding her—memorizing the feel of her and the way she fits against me. The small swell of her belly between us, the smell of her hair. Every single thing I can catalogue about this moment and this woman.

Over her shoulder, I see Charlie’s Cabin through the trees. Solid stone, good bones, the right kind of isolation.

“What do you think about turning Charlie’s Cabin into a recording studio?” I ask softly.

Madison springs back, her eyes wide. Her eyes bounce between me and the cabin, fresh tears welling up as a smile stretches across her lips. “Beckett…”

“Nothing fancy. Just a simple space I can work and record so I can be here, with the two of you,” I say, resting a hand back on her belly.

She looks at the cabin again, studying it intently, and I can see her mind working—measuring the possibilities. When she turns back to me her smile is radiant, transforming her entire face.

“I love that idea,” she says, the tears spilling over again, but she’s laughing too. “I absolutely love that idea.”

I pull her close once more, feeling something settle inside me, the future taking shape—a home.

Tomorrow I’ll leave for tour, but for the first time in almost twenty years, I know exactly what I’m coming back to: her, the baby, and a place to call my own.

Beckett

I miss you.

It’s been four hours. How can you miss me already?

Beckett

I miss you when you’re in the next room. Four hours might as well be four years.

You’re being cheesy.

Beckett

And you love it.

Don’t you miss me?

With the text comes a picture of Beckett in the back of a cab. His eyes are covered by his sunglasses, but he’s pushed his lower lip out in an exaggerated pout, and I don’t even try to stop the laugh that slips out. He looks ridiculous—like someone who’s never once made that face for a camera—and it makes me miss him all the more.

Of course I miss you.

Maybe it’s not fair, but I never said I’d play fair. I send him a picture of the sight in front of me—my little bump popping out of the bubbles of the bath I’m currently sitting in.

His response is instant.

Beckett

That’s dirty.

How am I supposed to pay attention to Aaron with that image in my head?

I’m not sure that’s my problem.

Beckett

You’re lucky I love you.

So fucking lucky.

It’s not the same as him being in the bed beside me, but it’s the next best thing. I shift to my side, propping the phone against my pillow and watch through the screen as Beckett does the same.