Decades

Three More Days

I want to apologize for how long this is! I may have gotten carried away. It gets a tad rough in parts, so if you think that might bother you, message me for the cliff notes version of what's happening here. I'm glad to hit the highlights without the dirty parts.

They'd survived the last days of the tour, and it was nearly time to go home. Returning to a reality neither Stevie nor Lindsey had wanted was hard to face. Stevie and Lindsey had agreed on an uncomfortable compromise until the end of the tour.

They spent their nights and days together but didn't discuss the future. They didn't discuss the pregnancy. And Lindsey promised to stop pressuring her not to leave him. Pretending they weren't in the final stages of what could have been their happily ever after was destroying them both.

Lindsey and Stevie had spent the night on the floor because Stevie hadn't wanted him in her bed. He wasn't sure how that would work when they'd returned to the hotel after their show. The limo ride there had left Lindsey more desperate than ever for her to show him that she still loved him. 

And she did love him. She'd always loved him.

She went to the bathroom to take a bath and change clothes when they returned to the hotel that night. As she was undressing, she caught sight of herself in the mirror and became uncomfortable. The idea of Lindsey having sex with a twenty-something-year-old woman had made her feel more insecure than she'd imagined it could. She was aware that she looked pretty great these days. Or at least she'd felt like she did. Until now, anyway. She stood in front of the mirror, picking her body apart for flaws.

Stevie put on a pair of modest pajamas and a robe over top. When she exited the bathroom, Lindsey was waiting. He looked relieved that she came out but disappointed that she was covered up like she was about to go outside and brave a blizzard. Stevie dressed in layers. She only allowed anyone to see what she wanted them to see. He knew this was her version of building the foundation of a wall.

He wanted to tear it down before she had time to get comfortable with it. He had a hot tea made for her to soothe her throat after the night's performance. Aside from that, he had no idea what else he should be doing. The awkwardness that simply didn't exist days earlier was now permeating the space.

Stevie avoided looking at him when she walked into the bedroom—busying herself, turning down the bed, and applying hand cream. She didn't light a single candle, which Lindsey sadly noticed. She wasn't taking any chances that he'd be encouraged or think she was setting a comfortable, romantic atmosphere for them.

Reaching for the cup of tea he was offering her, she thanked him, evading his eyes. He wanted her to look at him, not to block him out. When he didn't immediately relinquish the cup, she finally looked up at him. She looked so sad and so vulnerable. Lindsey hated himself for putting her through this.

In his eyes, Stevie saw fear and regret. What they both wanted so badly had somehow become out of reach. "Baby," he started. Stevie pulled the tea from his hand and took a sip, pulling her eyes away. Lindsey didn't have any words to say. He knew she didn't want another "I'm sorry" or a "We can make this work," and that's all he had. He just wanted to be close to her. He wanted her to tell him she wasn't slipping away from him. Even if it was all a lie.

His hand was warm from holding her cup. She couldn't help but notice as his hand pressed against her cheek. He wasn't sure what to say to her, but his eyes were pleading with her to let him in, to let him touch her, to stay. 

Lord knows she wanted to.

But she pulled away, placed her cup on the bedside table, and climbed into bed, still in her robe. "I'm pretty tired, Lindsey. I think I'm ready to turn in."