A (very delayed) request for some Eras surprise party content.
Travis is all the things—kind, intelligent, an amazing athlete, and a more amazing partner. He has so many wonderful qualities. He's an expert at almost everything, too.
However, lying isn't one of them.
I've been back for barely half a day and he's skittish, a far cry from the man I slipped into bed with at five this morning, who kissed me sleepily and pulled me close. Knowing we didn't have to rush off anywhere, that the long days apart were over, that we could just be.
He'd brought me breakfast in bed (if one could even call it breakfast at almost noon), sliding back in with me upon my insistence. It was our little ritual after a show and a game to rot the entire day, watching movies and catching up on TV. I would usually pull myself up to make dinner around five or if we were both completely wrecked, we'd order in.
On the last night of the tour, hours beforehand, he had asked if I was up to dinner with my parents as a celebration.
"Since I have to miss this," he said resignedly. It sucked; I had wanted to be there for him, too, but the stars hadn't aligned. Still, it was what it was; being who we were, we made the best of it.
He'd sent the most beautiful flowers, multiple vibrant bouquets to fill my dressing room and anybody who stepped foot inside would comment on how good they smelled. More than that, he made sure I knew how proud he was; always supportive. It was a bittersweet evening and he understood that, too. I was at peace with the journey's ending: an ending and a beginning, both.
Now, I was home, exhausted but heart full. I'd cried most of my tears the week before and the final night was just about soaking up all the love. That's what I had done, fully allowed myself to be immersed in the pure love of the audience, from my fellow performers, the crew, my team, and my family. It had carried me through and by the time we'd toasted with champagne and I was on the jet and headed back to Travis, everything felt real. Only it wasn't the immense grieving I thought I'd be doing when I imagined this day. I had begun the tour broken, pushing myself and the conclusion of the journey found me happy and healthy with the most loving, kind partner. How could I feel anything but the most immense appreciation?
We finished up, showered, and dressed, camping out on the couch, preparing to take it easy before my parents were due to fly in. I'd turned on a movie, but pretty quickly, it was clear I was the only one paying attention.
Out of the corner of my eye, I watch Trav bite down on the corner of his lips, and bounce his left leg, his fingers tapping an unheard rhythm against the side of my knee.
"You good?"
He glances over and I see him pull himself from his thoughts. "I'm good, baby. Just...uh--you sure you're up to going tonight?"
It's not the question itself that gives me pause. He's an extremely keen observer. Quite often, he'll know exactly what's on my mind before I can say anything. His being sensitive to how I might feel isn't surprising.
There's something underneath that I can't quite put my finger on and if I didn't know any better, I would say he almost sounds nervous.
The thought immediately makes me sympathetic and curious as to why. I know it's not a proposal, and the diamond that sits on my left ring finger and has for months (with the exception of for public consumption) is the proof. If it weren't for that, I would have guessed one was imminent with my parents and Austin coming here.
I don't question him, though. We have an open line of communication when something weighs on us. We tell the other person, even if we have to sift through the mud alone at first. The beautiful thing about Travis is that he always lets me in. I don't have to guess what he's feeling or thinking. There are no weird mind games that bring forth any self-doubt. It's just not how we operate.
