She turned toward him, feeling again like she had to apologize. “My decision seemed like it was the right one at the time—to give you up, to give music up—and I truly believed it was for years. But now . . . I’m not so sure. Playing on stage again—it felt like it reawakened something in me that is . . . I don’t know . . . maybe essential to who I am. Like in making that decision years ago I’d lost part of myself.”

“I can’t speak to the music, but I think in the end, us breaking up was the right choice at the time,” Rob said, reaching across the middle seat to put his hand on top of hers. “It’s like the butterfly effect. If you’d chosen differently, we might not be here. I might not have a hit song, or two gorgeous girls, or this chance to reconnect with you. I’m real happy with where I ended up, so no reason to second-guess, at least not on my behalf.”

Emily felt her eyes start to fill with tears, because she wasn’t quite sure she was happy with where she’d ended up. She was second-guessing on her own behalf. Second-guessing the decision to allow her pain to dictate her life.

“I’m glad,” she said to him. “I really am. And . . . I hope I’ll be able to say that same thing soon.”

He gave her hand a small squeeze. “Me too, Queenie,” he said. “Me too.”

As the car drove past palm trees and hotel driveways, she wondered how long it would take before she was happy where she ended up. She hoped not another thirteen years.

52

Emily flipped through a rack of pants, realizing that what she wore when she performed in New York would feel out of place here. Instead she pulled out a short black tank dress and a sheer blouse. Its pattern was a whirl of green and amber that she knew would bring out the green in her hazel eyes. Holding them, she felt excitement pulse through her body.

She walked to a small dressing room and shut the door, hidden from Rob’s view. As she undressed, the air felt different on her skin. She pulled the dress over her head. It skimmed her body, ending midthigh, the thin straps accentuating her shoulders and collarbone. She tied the blouse just under her breasts and left the dressing room to check out the outfit in the store’s three-way mirror. She looked like a new version of herself. Not like she was trying to re-create her college image, but like someone she could be now. She noticed Rob reflected behind her, quietly watching. She turned around. “What do you think?”

“I think yes,” he said, his eyes focused in a way that brought heat to Emily’s cheeks. “I like the boots.”