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Authors: Rachel Harris

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BOOK: You're Still the One
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But telling her those things would make it worse. It would give her hope that there could someday be a future for them. A day when he’d be willing to give up the band or, in his weakness, ask her to come out on the road. He couldn’t do that to her. She had her own dreams, her own passion to discover. She needed to move on.

“No,
I’m
sorry,” he said, unable to raise his voice higher than a hoarse whisper. “I’m so damn sorry for hurting you.”

Fresh tears sprang to her eyes, and one rolled down her smooth cheek. She wiped it away with her fingertips as she said the words he’d never wanted to hear from her again. “Good-bye, Tucker.”

Chapter Twenty-Two

The air-conditioning unit hummed. Outside, a couple houses down, a neighbor was having a party. Music and laughter seeped through the crack beneath his door, reminding Charlie that life went on even though his was upended. Twisting open another beer, he took a long pull and closed one eye as he shot the bottle cap across the room. It crashed against the wall, fell behind the entertainment center, and he cursed under his breath.

Now he had to get up.

Pushing to his feet, Charlie stumbled as he walked to where he’d watched it drop, noticing all the subtle changes in his house. The baskets and bins. The coasters and lack of pizza boxes. The need to pick up stupid bottle caps. Charlie bent down and reached behind the entertainment center, closing his hand around the jagged metal.

Arabella was everywhere. And…paradoxically…she was nowhere.

Wasn’t that some bullshit?

Things were fuzzy—he was more than halfway through a six-pack—but her lingering scent was real. The kitchen behind him was hers. Everyone knew the only thing Charlie could cook was toast and soup from a can. It would have to be gutted. The living room clearly belonged to her, too. Before her, this place had been a pigsty. And the bedroom…

Nope. Not going there.

Everywhere Charlie looked, he saw where she wasn’t. Without her, the house was empty. Just drywall, hardwood, and a roof. It had no soul, no joy. The strange part was that it looked the same. Logistically speaking, other than a few decorations, it was, and there was no difference between how it was now and the nights Arabella had stayed on her own side at the beginning of the summer. The house was still a house.

But without her there, it was no longer a home.

The sad truth was that
she
was his home. For better or worse, Charlie Tucker was irrevocably in love with Arabella Stone. Too bad it didn’t make any difference.

Tripping over his coffee table, Charlie swore and dropped into his recliner. Then, throwing his hand out, he picked up his phone, stared blearily at the keypad, and dialed her number again. Not to tell her he loved her; no, he wouldn’t hurt her that way. But to tell her he was sorry,
again,
and see what he could do to make any of this better.

Just like every other time, Arabella sent him to
voicemail.


“No, thank you.” Arabella placed her hand over her plate and smiled kindly at their longtime chef. “I’m good. I’m not very hungry today.”

Maria pulled a face and slopped more food on her plate regardless. “You’re too thin.
Mangia!
Mangia!

There was no sense in arguing. With a sigh, Arabella twirled her fork in her pasta and shoved a huge bite into her mouth. She closed her eyes and made a yummy noise. “Mmm.”

In truth, the food tasted like cardboard. But that had nothing to do with Maria’s cooking. Under normal circumstances—say, when her heart wasn’t broken into teeny tiny pieces and her stomach wasn’t in revolt—she would’ve gladly accepted a second helping, and probably even a third. It was why it was a good thing that Sunday dinners only came once a week.

But things for Ella were so very far from normal.

This week she’d started her job in the business affairs department at Belle Meade Records. Lucky for her, Mr. Tisdale, her new boss, was practically family, otherwise her first week would’ve also been her last.

On the outside she supposed she looked fine…or so she’d thought, before Maria said otherwise. But she’d done what she should, said what she was supposed to, and appeared where she’d been told. It was just, Ella’s heart wasn’t in it. How could it be, when it was a mangled mess within her chest? Most of the time she went through her day like a robot, focused on putting one foot in front of the other. Unfortunately, those closest to her were catching on.

After Maria went back to the kitchen, grumbling the entire time about Ella needing meat on her bones, her dad wiped his mouth with his napkin. “Princess, at risk of having that scowl pointed at me, I have to say Maria’s right. You don’t look well.”

As he’d anticipated, Arabella growled from across the table, and he gave her a tender smile. “It’s your eyes, baby. They no longer glow.”

Not in the mood to feign an interest in food, Arabella set down her fork before she got stabby with it. “Dad, I’ve been home a week. You can’t expect me to bounce right back. I was humiliated in front of the entire world, and fans have dedicated entire blogs to embarrassing me. I’m sorry if I seem a little emotional.”

As if finding out she’d been delusional hadn’t been enough, the day after she returned to Nashville she’d discovered the posts. The blogs, the tweets, the Tumblr gifs devoted to immortalizing her fall from grace.

The media had backed down after the press release, especially once she left Louisiana, but the general public hadn’t been so forgiving. The scandal was Arabella’s first true misstep and the pull to target her just too great. Her favorite gifs involved photos of her dorky adolescent years. Evidently, nothing complemented a tarnished tiara like a twelve-year-old’s overbite. Honestly, though, most of it didn’t faze her. She knew who she was, she knew the truth, and that was all that mattered.

People saw what they wanted to see. Just as she’d stupidly seen love in Charlie’s eyes.

“Have you spoken to Tucker since you’ve been home?”

Arabella clenched her hands in her lap. Her dad was trying to help. It had taken a few days, licking her wounds, to remember that he wasn’t cruel. A bit of a jerk to his employees, perhaps, and hotheaded when he was angry. But he was never malicious, and he’d always treated her with kid gloves, emphasis on the
kid.
While his actions this summer had been severely misguided, they’d come from a place of love. Ella knew that.

It didn’t give her any extra patience, however.

“No,” she said, confused as to why he’d even ask. “Why would I? Charlie and I are friends, but he’s busy getting ready for the tour. We said our good-byes in Magnolia Springs.”

Actually, Charlie
had
left her a dozen voicemails, and half as many texts over the last few days, but she’d erased or ignored them all. The pain was simply too fresh, her feelings too raw, to speak with him. Eventually she’d get over this and call him back, and they could try their hand at friendship again. But for now, avoidance was key. It was the only way she’d heal.

Her dad’s eyebrows twitched. “Strange. He’s called
me
just about every day, trying to get in touch with you.”

Now that surprised her, and in spite of herself, Arabella slid her chair closer.

Her father had calmed down considerably since she returned, thanks in large part to her constant refrain that it wasn’t Charlie’s fault. It hadn’t been.
She’d
been the one to approach him at Country Roads,
she’d
been the one to wear her heart on her freaking sleeve, and
she’d
been the one to push him on the Fourth of July. The media backlash was on her.

“I admit, I refused his calls at first,” he said. “But we’ve spoken several times now, and I think maybe you should hear what he has to say. That man genuinely seems to care about you.”

Ella’s hands dropped to the table, rattling the china. “Daddy, you can’t be serious! You were the one who warned me away from him in the first place. Now you’re playing matchmaker?” She shoved her chair away and stared at him with tears in her eyes. “Can’t you see that I’m a mess?”

“Yes, I can,” he told her gently, “and that’s why I think you should speak with Charlie. It’s obvious you care about him, and I can admit it’s possible I made a mistake.”

She couldn’t handle this right now. As it was, she was barely hanging on.

“Dad, I appreciate what you’re trying to do, but now isn’t the time for this conversation.” She swallowed down the lump of pain and stood from the table. “If Charlie has something to say to me, then I’ll try to call him later to discuss it. But right now, I have a headache, and I think I should go lie down.”

A look of regret passed over her dad’s face, but he nodded. “I’ll have Maria wrap up your plate. You can finish it after you rest.”

Arabella gave him a thin smile then quietly left the room.

Ascending the stairs to her old bedroom, she wrapped her arms tight around her middle, feeling at any second she could fly apart. She couldn’t let her silly hopes and dreams win out. Unfortunately, when it came to Charlie Tucker, the only way to do that was to be unconscious.

Chapter Twenty-Three

The mayor’s front lawn was packed with Nashville’s finest. A large stage was positioned up front, podium in the center, and Charlie’s palms began to sweat as he imagined giving the speech in his pocket in front of the enormous crowd. Performing with Blue was one thing; discussing his personal life or causes close to his heart was another. Maybe if he could give the speech while holding his guitar, he’d be okay.

Or if Arabella were seated in the front row.

Abby waved from her seat, then turned back to chat with Maddie Clark. An empty chair was on his niece’s other side, and that was where Arabella should be. Seated beside the two other women who made this day possible.

“Good turnout.” Charlie glanced over to see Stone gazing at the press box. “Must feel nice to see these vultures sucking up now that the mess is cleared.”

The mess in question this time was the unfortunate panty-and-ass-grab situation with Maddie Clark. A few weeks before she left Magnolia Springs, Arabella had sent the Nashville mayor’s office a rough cut of Abby’s performance, a copy of her personal testimony, and an official press release about Life & Lyrics.

That package was followed up with several conversations he was only now learning about, and after hearing how far the foundation had come, Maddie had insisted her father clear up the scandal and throw in his complete support. It couldn’t have been easy to go public with her personal battle with depression, but she was a lot stronger than her father gave her credit for. Thanks to her, Life & Lyrics had two brave faces championing their cause.

“To be honest, sir, I don’t give a rat’s ass about the press, other than what they can do to help the foundation,” Charlie told him, still searching the crowd. “But what would feel nice was if your daughter were here to see this.”

Stone grunted. “I tried getting her to come, but the girl is stubborn like a mule.”

Wisely, Charlie bit his tongue. The man had held up his side of the bargain, making a sizeable contribution to Life & Lyrics, joining the board, and enlisting a few other names as well, including the mayor. The two of them were finally seeing eye-to-eye after several conversations and a sincere apology on his end for how things went down. Pointing out that Arabella got her stubbornness from her old man would only cause a backslide.

“She claimed she had to get ready for tonight’s gala.” Stone let that piece of news hang in the air, and when Charlie glanced over, he met his gaze. “She’ll be representing Belle Meade at the RAINN event tonight.”

He didn’t say anything else. Just left him with that golden nugget of information and walked off to find his seat. Not that Charlie could do anything about it.

The fact that he loved Arabella was irrelevant. He had two fears when it came to women: that he’d bring them into the mud with him, like what had happened with Maddie, and/or that he’d fail them the way he had with his niece. The first one already happened, and Charlie would never forgive himself for the pain his actions caused. He refused to let her be another Abby.

“This is so exciting!” Two thin arms wrapped around his waist, and Charlie grunted as a soft weight pushed him forward. “I’m so proud of you!”

Charlie’s heart melted as he took in Abby’s beaming smile, the one that had been gone for far too long. If he helped bring that smile back, then maybe he wasn’t as big a screw-up as he’d thought.

“I’m proud of
you
,” he told her, hugging her tight. “This day wouldn’t be possible without you. You’re sure you’re still okay with me sharing your story with the crowd?”

“And my song,” Abby agreed eagerly. “My voice may not sell out stadiums, but I’m proud of how it came out, and I want the entire world to hear it. Hey, maybe they’ll even play it on the news.”

That seemed unlikely, considering the celebration would probably only warrant a minute package at the most. But he loved seeing the glow of happiness in her eyes, and he wasn’t about to rain on her parade. “Maybe so.”

“I wish Arabella were here,” she said with a pout, staring pointedly at her vacant seat. “What did you do to scare her away?”

Despite himself, Charlie laughed. “What did
I
do? How do you know I’m the one who messed things up?” When all she did was stare at him, he released a breath. “Yeah, okay, it is rather obvious.”

“She’s not staying away because of that stupid story or those mean gifs, is she? People are so dumb. Arabella should know they’re all just jealous.”

“Sometimes it’s not that easy,” he murmured, guilt hitting him square in the stomach.

Abby looked at him. “Well, what did she say when you told her you loved her? That should’ve made things a heck of a lot easier.” She cocked her hip and said, “You did tell her, right?”

Charlie rolled his neck to pop it, his mouth a flat line. His effervescent niece growled.

“Gah! Why are guys so difficult? Here, use my phone. Call her and tell her now, and I’ll see what I can do to push these guys off for another few minutes.” She tossed her cell phone at him and in the second it took for him to catch it, she’d already taken a step toward the stage. He quickly but gently grabbed her elbow.

“Honey, that’s not gonna happen.”

Her entire body deflated. When she turned back, her bright, curious eyes searched his. “Why the heck not? You love her, don’t you?”

He swallowed hard. How do you explain the confusing ways of the world to a teenager? “Yeah,” he finally admitted aloud. “I do. But love isn’t always enough. It can be, like with your mom and dad, but when you work in the entertainment industry and travel a lot, things get more complicated.”

“Duh,” she replied, rolling her blue eyes. “But that’s why FaceTime and Skype exist. It works for us.”

Without a doubt, this wasn’t the place to have this conversation. Maddie was standing near the stage, waiting for the signal that he was ready to begin, and people were everywhere. That didn’t stop him from asking, “Does it, though?”

Her face held so much love and confusion, it twisted something in his chest. “Honey, I love our video chats and phone calls, but they don’t make up for seeing you in person. Before I moved to Magnolia Springs, you and I saw each other every week. We’d go to the movies or head to a concert, you’d catch me up on your life and I’d tell you about mine. You confided in me, Abby.” Charlie shifted his gaze beyond her shoulder. “If I’d hung around, you would’ve told me about your depression, too.”

Blood pounded in his ears, filling the space where Abby would’ve normally told him that he was wrong or that living in Franklin wouldn’t have made a difference. His eyes closed briefly in pain, but he opened them again, not wanting her to see that the truth hurt.

“Hmm.” Her soft, noncommittal noise drew his attention, and Charlie watched her nose scrunch in thought. “You’re right, I guess, in that I used to share more when you lived here, but that was only because you were around so much. It’s not like I hold things back on FaceTime. And to be honest, I don’t think you being here would’ve made any difference. Life still happened between our visits. I was stressed with school and dance, boys and stupid dramas. Even I didn’t realize what it was doing to me. If I couldn’t tell, and Mom didn’t see it, how on earth would you have known?”

Charlie didn’t have an answer. It was more like a feeling, deep in his gut, that told him he could’ve done more. What, exactly, he didn’t know. But
something
.

Otherwise he’d let the most incredible woman he ever met slip through his fingers for nothing.

Suddenly the tie at his throat was too tight. He swallowed around the stiff knot as sweat dampened his palms. Could Abby be right? Would everything have happened the same way even if he’d been in Franklin?

“I’m not saying video chats are the same as seeing you in person,” she told him, wrapping her arm around his back and hugging his side. “I still miss you like crazy. But it’s enough for now. I know that you’d be here if you could, if your super awesome job didn’t have you touring the world, and I wouldn’t trade that for anything. I
love
having an uncle who’s a badass.” She lifted her head and smiled at him. “And I think if Arabella loves you back, which we both know she does, she’d want to give this a real shot.”

Charlie shook his head, in awe of the woman in his arms. “When did you get to be so wise?”

“Haven’t you heard? I’ve got a rock star uncle. He gives pretty awesome advice when his head’s not up his ass.”

“Watch it.” Laughing, he tightened his hold around her and began tickling her sides. Her squeals had several heads turning their way. “I’m still the adult here.”

“Then act like it, and call your woman,” she taunted him between giggles, only prompting him to tickle her more. Murmurs arose, and a few cameras clicked, but he didn’t care if he looked silly or if they judged him for stealing a few seconds of joy. Abby was laughing again and, for the first time in over a week, hope had entered his chest.

A minute later, Maddie joined them on the sidelines, smiling as she gestured toward the stage. “You ready to do this?”

Releasing a breath, Charlie glanced at the audience and gave Abby a final hug. “Lead on.”

On his way to the front, a surprising face stood out on the edge of the crowd. Arabella’s roommate, Lana. He’d crashed enough of their Skype chats over the summer to consider her a friend, and with Abby’s words still ringing in his head, he adjusted his course and stopped beside her. Maybe
she
could get Arabella to call him.

“How is she?”

Angry eyes flashed as Lana crossed her arms over her chest. “How do you think? She’s humiliated, and you can’t even be bothered to pick up a phone. ”

Charlie jerked back in confusion. “Are you serious? I’ve been calling her nonstop. It feels like all I ever do anymore is leave her voicemails or text messages. She’s the one who refuses to talk to me.”

That seemed to knock the wind right out of her sails, and as Lana regrouped, he pulled a finished CD out of his jacket pocket. He’d hoped she’d be here to get a copy herself, but giving it to her best friend was almost as good.

“Please. Make sure she gets this. Arabella deserves to be up on that stage with me today, because none of this would be possible without her. We did this, together, and it goes to show what an incredible team we really are.” Charlie handed Abby’s song over. “Without her here, it feels empty.”

Lana hesitated for a second before accepting it.

“And tell her…” He swallowed thickly. “Tell her that I miss her.”

The focused stare she set on him was enough to have his palms sweating again. If he thought she’d believe him or it would make a difference, he’d admit he was in love with Arabella, too. But his girl deserved to be the first one to hear him actually say those three little words.

She tapped the envelope against her open palm, then glanced at the stage. “Looks like they’re waiting for you.” Lips pursed, she turned back and shouldered her purse. “Later, sexy Charlie.”


Arabella pulled her legs up onto her chair like a pretzel and pressed play on the live feed hosted on Blue’s website. There was a slight time delay, as she’d needed the basics surrounding her before she saw Charlie again, even only through a computer screen. But with cookie dough ice cream, a glass of wine, and a box of tissues beside her, she was ready.

“Thank you all for coming.” Man, he looked good. “The Life & Lyrics Foundation is my baby, and it’s humbling to be speaking about it with you today. Although I feel strongly about this project, I also know that the reason I’m standing here is not so much because of my hard work, but because of the faith and courage of three incredible women.”

Charlie glanced into the crowd, and the camera panned to show the mayor’s daughter sitting beside Abby in the front row. “First, I’d like to thank Maddie Clark for stepping forward with her personal testimony of how depression has affected her life. Because of her brave example, and her family’s generous financial support, Life & Lyrics will reach many teens fighting the same struggle.”

The camera shifted back to Charlie, and his smile became tender. “I’d also like to thank my niece, Abby, who is the inspiration for this foundation. To be honest with you, I had every intention of keeping her name and private battle out of the press, but suffice it to say Abby inherited the infamous Tucker obstinacy. She refused to be silenced.”

The crowd murmured appreciatively, and Arabella smiled despite the tears in her eyes.

“Abby’s hope is that her battle can help her peers to not stay quiet or feel ashamed for their feelings. The fight is real, the emotions are heavy, and it is okay to seek help. Talk to your friends, talk to your parents, and then, if you need a third listening ear, call the Life & Lyrics hotline and speak to one of our qualified volunteers. Let us help you put the voices in your head down on paper and then into lyrics. Then, if you so choose, we’ll help you record your song as your own personal testimony.”

Charlie held up a CD. “The song we’re handing out today is a sample of the service we plan to provide teens across the country. ‘Won’t Stay Quiet’ is my niece’s song, and it’s on our website and available for purchase on iTunes. Profits for the single and all future Life & Lyrics songs will be used to train volunteers and help pay for the recording space.”

He smiled again at Abby, then told the crowd, “I’m an incredibly proud uncle.”

Again, the audience gave murmurs of appreciation and agreement, and Arabella snatched two tissues from the box. She’d known she would need them. Dabbing her eyes, she felt proud of Abby, too, and of the foundation. A pang of regret hit knowing she could be out there right now, squeezing Abby’s hand. If only she didn’t love him so much.

But then, Charlie looked directly into the camera, and his gaze grew somber. The magnetic pull he’d always held over her brought her closer to the screen.

“The third dynamic woman whose efforts blessed this project isn’t here today,” he said, and Arabella scooted forward in her chair. “But she should be. Arabella Stone did more for Life & Lyrics than anyone. It’s because of her that my dream became a reality. Her tenacity, her drive, and her raw, natural talent brought this foundation to fruition.”

BOOK: You're Still the One
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