Page 124 of Almost Beautiful (Beautiful 3)

“Okay,” Travis said. “That’s not a problem.”

“Since when?” I said, stunned. My cheeks felt hot and wet, but Travis kissed one side anyway.

“I’ll take care of it, Pigeon.”

I took a deep breath and stared forward. “I just want to leave this place and go home. Pretend it was all a bad dream and that she’s just … estranged, not dead.”

America gently rubbed my back with her palm. “I’ll run you a bath at the hotel. I’ve told Shepley to cancel his flight. We’re flying back tomorrow.”

I looked to Travis. “You can go back to the convention. Thank you for dropping everything and coming.”

He frowned. “No way. Hell, no. I’m going home with you. I’m not leaving your side.”

I leaned into him, relieved. Travis was my rock, my home base, the only safe haven I’d known. I wasn’t even going to pretend I didn’t desperately need him.

In the back of my mind, I worried that when the grief hit, there was no telling what those emotions might unleash. I was still on a rollercoaster with no way off. But it was bearable with my husband next to me, and America always at my side.

It seemed like a tragedy that my mother would have no funeral, no tombstone, no family to visit her viewing. But she chose to be alone, and I would never have to be.

“I’m so lucky to have you both in my life,” I said. “I’m just glad tomorrow I’ll be leaving Las Vegas, for good this time.”

“You have a lot of good to look forward to, Abby. Lots of distractions,” America said.

I turned to her. “I need all the distractions. What do you have in mind?”

“Um,” she said, thinking. “You want to talk about it now?”

“Anything else. Please,” I said.

“Well, let’s see. Um … Oh! The Spring Bash is coming up, and Boom Fest.”

“Boom Fest? What is that?” I asked.

Travis spoke as he checked for the Uber’s location again. “It’s the annual campus music festival. They didn’t have it last year because … well, the fire.”

America offered a cautious smile. “Everyone’s been talking about it. If you’re up for it.”

“It falls on my birthday this year,” Travis said. “And it’s my twenty-first. All my brothers will be there for it. But, if you’re not up for it, I’m happy to sit at home with you and Netflix and cuddle with a big bowl of popcorn and Toto in our laps.”

Just when he frowned, America spoke up, “Trent and Cami should be picking him up anytime now.”

He nodded. “Good. Much better choice than Brazil.” He kissed my hair. “You doing okay, Pidge? Uber is almost here.”

“I’m ashamed to admit what’s wrong,” I said.

Travis and America positioned themselves to get a better look at my facial expression. I wasn’t sure why; they both knew I’d never give anything away.

“I’m not sad,” I blurted out. “What is wrong with me?”

“Abby,” America said, holding my hand in both of hers. “You just found out—hours ago—that she died. You barely know her but she’s your mother. How are you supposed to feel?” America brushed my cheek with her thumb. “Feelings are never wrong. Whatever you feel, it’s okay. If you’re sad later, that’s okay. If you never are, that’s okay, too.”

I took a deep breath, letting my body relax. “Lots to look forward to,” I said to myself. “Distractions. And I’m leaving Las Vegas ... forever.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Moses

Travis