31
NORA
My hands went to my face as tears came to my eyes.
The tears I’d sworn I’d never cry again.
But that all went out the window with what was in front of me. Weston was here. He was in Lubbock, at the winery, on the stage…for me.
His fingers coaxed the piano to life. His vocals came out almost haunted through the microphone. And the melody that had lulled me into love with him wrapped itself around me.
And the rest of the band was there. Santi tapping out a soft drumbeat. Viv adding a low bass beat. Yorke strumming a refrain on his guitar. And my brother, the lead singer and bona fide rockstar, stood in the back with a guitar strapped to him as he sang backup. Actual backup to West’s vocals.
He winked at me when I caught his eye. Had West told him? Had he found out? What was he
