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The spotlight hits me, warm and bright, and I step to the mic as the crowd roars. The energy rushes up from the floor like a wave, rolling through my boots, up my spine, right into my chest.

I grip the neck of my guitar and lean into the mic, grinning. “Damn, it’s good to be back.”

The crowd howls.

“Some of you know me. Some of you don’t. I’ve been off the road for a while. I had something pretty important going on.” A pause. Beat. My smile deepens. “I was falling in love. And marrying the girl of my dreams.”

Shrieks. Cheers. Stomping feet.

“She’s here tonight. And if y’all would be real polite and just look right over there—that’s my wife. Laney Crowe.”

The house lights sweep briefly, catching her where she stands offstage. Shy, glowing, perfect.

I blow her a kiss and watch her cheeks flush as the crowd loses their minds.

“This next one…” I say, strumming the opening chords, the crowd already quieting, sensing something sacred, “...this is a brand-new song. One I’ve never sung before. It’s about the day everything changed.” My eyes stay on her. “This one’s for you, baby.”

Then I play.

Fingers finding frets like they were born for it. Lyrics pouring out like prayers. The chorus is a soft confession. The bridge avow. Every note stitched with the kind of love that only comes once in a lifetime.

And as the final chord fades into the silence—

I look at her.

And all I can think is:

God, I’m the luckiest man alive.

Epilogue: Laney

He’s still glowing.Standing in the center of that stage like it was built for him, guitar slung low, voice full of soul and sunlight and things I never dreamed I’d feel. The crowd is hanging on every note, and I’m hanging on every breath.

He just played my song.

And somehow, my heart is still beating.

Lucas glances over from his post beside the soundboard, shooting me a grin that says now’s your moment. I can see the question in his eyes—you sure?

I nod before I can think too hard.

And then I’m moving.

One step.

Two.

Out onto the stage.

The second I cross the threshold into the spotlight, the crowd roars in surprise—but it fades into static behind the thrum of blood in my ears. My legs are trembling. My palms are slick. But I keep walking, my eyes locked on him.

Eddie turns toward the sound. His eyes land on me.

And for a second, he just stares.

Then the biggest smile I’ve ever seen breaks across his face, slow and stunned and absolutely full of wonder.

“Laney,” he says, breathless.