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“You ready to head into town now, get something to eat?” I ask finally.

“Yeah, starving.”

He gets up and showers. I pick out some clothes and shower when he’s done, knowing if I hop in with him, we won’t make it to lunch. It reminds me of being in Maine, except life is so much better now. It astounds me how quickly things can change. If I’m being honest, I think I’m in shock over it. In my head, I had a loose ten-to-twenty-year plan to getting an agency. Then, it happened all at once.

I’m so damn lucky I met him first.

We don’t talk a lot about work or music. I have the farmhouse to myself today, so we walk down the path, and I pick up the bits of shattered mug and put them in his truck on the other side of the gate. Then all the way into town, I sit by his side, his hand on my thigh, and think about him being mine. There’s a lot to think about, a lot to do. That’s alright, we can handle it as it comes.

Right now, I’m happy.

We talk about a whole lot of nothing. He’s so relaxed and open, willing to answer my questions about life on the road. There’s something so nostalgic listening to him recount the glory days with Coen. I wonder if he knows if Coen looks back on those times fondly or if he’s still hauling around all that guilt. It’s not my place to ask, I don’t think. He’s close with Coen, and if they need to talk privately, they will.

That night, I take a deep breath and call Sabrina, with Jamie at my side.

The phone buzzes. We wait.

“I feel like I’m gonna throw up,” I whisper.

We’re sitting on the bed, me in his lap.

“It’s gonna be fine,” he says.

“Coen might be upset. After everything he went through.”

Jamie thinks about it, brow creased. “If he’s mad at anyone, it’ll be me. And I can handle that.”

“Hey!” Sabrina’s cheery voice breaks up our conversation. “What’s up?”

“Hi,” I say. “Is Coen there, too?”

“Uh…he’s right here. I’ll put you on speaker,” she says. “It’s late here, time difference and all. What’s going on?”

“Hey,” says Jamie.

Silence.

“The fuck are you doing with Serena?” Coen asks, more surprised than anything else.

“I’m making sure she’s doing alright.”

“Oh, bet you are, motherfucker.”

Their voices are light, but I sense a little…undercurrent. A “hey, watch yourself here because this is my family now” kind of vibe.

“He’s helping me,” I say, swallowing down my fear. My ears roar. The back of my neck burns. Why is it so hard to just explain what I did? I pause for a second, then start talking.

I tell them everything, minus the dirty things. How I decided to start putting stuff online and blocked Sabrina—Coen is strictly off social media—and how it took off a lot faster than I anticipated. I explain about “Chase Me, Cowboy,” and how it took off enough to get the inquiry from MET. That’s when I can feel their silence, like a palpable figure in the room with us. Finally, I get to the part where Jamie came to the farmhouse, then I get tangled up and trail off because…that’s the end, for now.

There’s a stunned silence.

“So are you two…together?” Sabrina asks finally.

“Yes,” Jamie interjects firmly.

“Why didn’t you tell us about the music stuff, Serena?” she asks.

Is she disappointed? Guilty, I sort through my emotions.