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My smile wavers as I touch his shoulders, peering up into his stunned face. “You should take some credit. I wanted you to be proud, always. And I knew you loved me. Even when things were hard between us, when I was angry with you or trying to ignore you or wishing you were different, I knew deep down that you did. That’s what made it harder.”
“I had a rough patch a few months ago after you and Tyler came for the holidays,” he admits.
“What? Why?” I reach for the necklace, and he holds it away, motioning at me to turn.
I do, reluctantly facing the mirror. He loops the necklace around my throat, carefully letting the ring and pendant settle against my chest.
“Because you didn’t need me anymore. You haven’t for a while. I think taking over Wicked was something I’ve wanted to do for a long time, but your independence made it more pressing. I want to be needed, but no one needs you forever. I’d never say it to anyone else, but I like being needed, kid.” With shaking hands, he fastens the clasp behind my neck and lifts my hair away.
Before he can step back, I grab his thick wrists. His surprised gaze finds mine in the mirror.
“Maybe I don’t need you to make sure I eat dinner, like Mason, or tie my shoes, like Sophie,” I tease. “Maybe I don’t even need your advice on how to play guitar or be a musician, like Tyler. But I need you in my life because you are an example of what is possible in this world. And I need that even in the moments I don’t ask for it. Especially when I don’t ask for it.”
His eyes, the same shade as mine, are glassy.
He wraps his arms around me, and I lean back against him. A sound from the door has us both looking up.
Beck grins. “Sorry to interrupt this beautiful moment, but if you’re late two days in a row, Mr. J”—he nods at my dad—“my sixth sense says Haley’s going to murder someone.”
“You’re not really psychic. You just play one on TV,” my dad gripes, but he steps back.
“You’d be surprised how much it rubs off,” Beck says, then cuts a look at me. He looks a little sad. “You look great, Manatee. Ty’s a lucky guy.”
I cross to him and stretch up to wrap my arms around him. “I’m a lucky woman. Not only because I have him, because I have the best friends in the world.” I pull back to stare him dead in the eyes. “We’re not going anywhere, Beck.”
His eyes crinkle at the corners. “Come on, stop hitting on me on your wedding day.”
I laugh as I pull back and take my dad’s arm.
“You’ve played sold-out shows to fifty thousand. You sure you’re ready for this?” I ask him.
“As close as I’m gonna get,” he replies solemnly.
