I let out a sigh, zipping up my suitcase before straightening up. Bea gave me a sad smile, sitting on the edge of the bed, already packed and ready to check out of the inn.
"It's too bad we could only get away for the weekend," she said, and I nodded, sitting beside her and giving her a quick kiss on the cheek.
"It is. But we'll have other weekends. Other getaways," I said, ignoring the fact I was leaving for another tour in just about a month.
"Do you ever think about running away from it all?" she blurted out suddenly.
I turned, giving her a confused look, but she was looking eagerly at me, eyes bright and almost wild. Her hand snaked up my arm, gripping it tightly, as if we'd drift apart the instant she lost contact with me.
"What...what do you mean? Run away from what?"
"From everything. From the band, the touring, constantly being in and out of the studio and on and off the road, from the stress of always hiding, from never being sure if the person you loved really loved you back or just loved your money and your fame, just away from all the obligations and the responsibility and the prying eyes of the public and the press," she rushed.
"I--"
"We could do it, if you wanted to. I'd go with you. We could run off, and be together, and be ourselves, away in some small town, or some little cottage, or a different country," she said breathlessly.
There was a long pause as I drank in her excitement, trying to think of an answer, trying to think of what I wanted. On the one hand, it sounded nice. Leaving everything behind, taking the money I had made and settling down. On the other, I could never live life like that. I wanted more. More money, more fame, more and more, more of everything. I'd go stir-crazy living in a house with a white picket fence, even if I was living there with Bea.
"I can't do that," I said. "I don't think I'd be happy."
She deflated, shoulders slumping, and let go of my arm. "I thought you'd say that. We've always been different in that regards, I suppose," she said, half to herself, before shaking her head. "But it doesn't matter! We'll find a way to make things work out, and to be happy together."
"Of course we will," I said, giving her a kiss on the lips this time, and she melted into the embrace.
The rest of October and most of November passed in what felt like nothing more than a blink of the eye, and before long I found myself standing on Bea's doorstep, having just dropped her off after one last date together before I left.
"And you still won't come with me?" I asked, cupping her cheek in my hand, and she gave me a small, sad smile.
"I can't just follow you for the entire tour, I'm sorry. But I promise I'll stop by one show and surprise you," she said, and I sighed.
"Alright. Maybe more than one?" I asked hopefully, and she chuckled.
"I'll see what I can do. I promise I'll at least come to one show. After all, I've never seen you perform while in the audience, I've only seen some of your old performances on T.V. I'm sure the view is much better in person," she said, pinching me teasingly on the cheek.
"Oh I'll be sure I give you quite the show," I purred, covering her in kisses, and she giggled, kissing me much softer than I was kissing her.
"I know. You always do."
"Call me so I can get you a front row ticket?" I asked, and she shook her head, eyes glittering.
"Well now that would ruin the surprise, wouldn't it?" she said, and I pouted.
"I mean I suppose, but I want you in the front row so I can see you better while I perform," I said with a huff, and she laughed.
"I'm hurt that you think I don't make enough to afford a front row ticket myself," she said, and realization dawned on me.
"Ohh. I didn't think about that," I admitted sheepishly, and she laughed, throwing her arms around my neck and hugging me close.
"You should go. It's late, you told me you were leaving early tomorrow morning," she murmured, resting her head on my shoulder.
My arms went around her waist, holding her close, inhaling the scent of her perfume, trying to capture the moment perfectly in my mind, the feel of her body, the warmth of her breath, the sensation of her hair tickling my skin. But it was a fleeting moment, and I couldn't quite pin it down.
"So I'll be tired on the plane, big deal," I said, hugging her tighter, but she pushed away, giving me a sad smile.
"Go home. I'll see you soon, alright?" she said, giving me a tender kiss before her hands slipped off my cheeks.
"I love you," I said in a husky voice, watching as she stepped back into her apartment, starting to close the door.
"I love you too," she said, blowing me a kiss before closing the door, separating us.
I turned away and headed down to the street, unwilling to linger. An ache was spreading through my chest, a deep, dull hurt. I couldn't understand the feeling creeping through me. We hadn't broken up, it wasn't a 'goodbye,' it was only a 'see you later.' There was no reason to be feeling as if our lives had just changed forever, and for the worst. I'd see her again soon.
As it turned out, soon ended up being a mere seven days.
There was a knock on my door on my day off, just an hour or so after we had landed in Memphis and arrived in our hotel. Frowning, I pulled open the door, looking at Bea in astonishment.
"Bea! We just got here, how did you--"
"I need to talk to you," she said, cutting me off, and I swallowed the lump that started to rise in my throat as I saw how nervous she looked, gaze darting around, wringing her hands, chewing on her lip as if she wanted to bite right through.
"About...about what?" I asked slowly. "Is everything okay?"
She paused before answering.
"That all depends on you."
