"Hey." Despite his calm tone, Billy's greeting was close enough to cause me to jump. "Everything okay?"

"Work," I grumbled as I hastily packed up my bag. Frustration pounded through me, causing my hands to stutter as I picked up my book and water bottle. "I have to go to the office for a bit."

"A bit," Billy said to himself as he looked at his watch.

"Yeah, sorry. One of our major clients is having a meltdown, so... duty calls," I explained, more to myself than Billy.

"Okay, what can I do? You want a driver?"

"No, I don't know how long I'll be. James gave me his keys. He's parked out back." My mind was not in the moment with Billy; it was whirling through infuriation.

"Okay," his voice came disappointed, pulling me from my thoughts.

"I'll be back in time," I promised. Again, it was more for me than for him. I needed to see Billy tonight. I needed to watch him be on stage and soak it in, surrounded by friends and family. I needed this to prove to myself that this time was different, but I would never admit it out loud.

"I understand. Don't rush." But his smile came more as a wince.

I pulled closer to him and let a hand cup his face. "I'm sorry. This wasn't the plan, I know that."

"Life happens when you're busy making other plans," he sincerely smiled.

"I love you," I offered.

"I love you too." He bent his neck so our lips could meet. "Don't forget to eat," he added as he pulled away.

"Right, nourishment," I agreed. "By the time you're done with all your little quizzes, I'll be back. You won't even..."

But Billy cut me off. "Never say that. I always notice. And they're interviews, not 'little quizzes.'"

"Mmhmm, love, all of it," I murmured as I gave him one last kiss on the cheek and headed out to maneuver the maze of corridors to the backdoor.

The emptiness of being away from the family immediately filled me. By the time I arrived at the studio, it was sitting on my chest like an elephant. I didn't bother to dock in my office; I docked in Billy's office. His musk engulfed me as I plopped in his chair.

Chats and emails flew at me while the drone of the emergency conference call echoed through my brain. I was only mildly paying attention. The team was effective and efficient; I wasn't adding anything. Instead, my eyes roamed over the scribbles on Billy's desk. Clearly, he suffered from a paper deficiency that resulted in him just jotting things down directly on his desk in what appeared to be black Sharpie. I smiled as I looked over lines of lyrics that popped into his head and the signatures of people that had passed through his office. There was even a doodle of a cow with Viv's signature below. The whole thing was so Billy it caused a deep ache in my chest.

The hours ticked by until early evening when finally calm was restored, with no help from me. I hung up while the rest of the call was cheering. I had missed dinner but would still make the concert. At least I would have until I heard a pop followed by the flapping of a rapidly deflating tire as I drove.

I flexed my fingers to try to dissuade the tantrum growing inside me. Instead, I switched to my tactical brain and pulled my phone out of my purse. My instinct was to call Billy, but it was rolling close to 8 pm, and I didn't want to disturb him this close to the show. So, I called Tess.

"Hey, are you back?" She answered after one ring.

"No, flat tire. I don't think I'm going to make it." Tears formed in the corner of my eyes as I swallowed a swelling lump in my throat.

"Oh, no," Tess' voice carried with disappointment.

"Is that Lil? Is she okay?" Billy's voice was close and urgent. "Give me the phone," he demanded. "Lil, what's wrong?"

"It's not a big deal; I have a flat. I'll call AAA, but I don't think I'll make the show."

"I'm coming to get you." His words came quickly, like a machine gun.

"No, don't be silly. You have a show. I'll see you at home." But I wanted him to come. After floating uselessly through work and missing everything with the family, I wanted Billy.

"Lily Turncott, I'm not leaving you on the side of the road in the dead of winter." Sympathetic Billy was gone as anger filled him. His charged tone hardened me from pitying myself to a hurricane of my own irrational outrage.

"Billy Collins, I'm not pulling you from the stage when you have thousands of people depending on you."

"Fine, I'll try to find someone else to pick you up. Text me where you are."

"Billy," I argued.

"Don't, Lil. This is non-negotiable." His tone left no room for rebuttal but softened as he added, "I love you, Lil."

"I love you too," I sighed before hanging up.

The loneliness filled me again as I waited in my car for whomever Billy would send. I dwelled on my job, preventing me from being at Billy's show. It quickly swirled into resentment, but didn't linger. The pity returned with a fresh round of threatening tears. I tried to prevent them, but it was useless; they flooded over my bottom eyelids as I slumped deeper into the car seat. My forehead hit harder than I would have liked on the steering wheel, which felt like an accent of my entire day. Nothing was going to stop my utter collapse. No emotion could possibly fill me like the loneliness of crying alone in a darkened car when my friends and family were all together elsewhere. At least, I thought nothing would replace it. Then Billy's Tesla pulled off the road behind me, and an irrational rage I hadn't even detected boiled over the sadness.

"You said you'd find someone else!" My frustration erupted in a scream.

"No, I said I'd try to find someone else. Everyone was busy," Billy shrugged.

"Busy? Everyone else was busy? It's your damn concert," I argued.

"Get in the car, Lil. You can yell at me all you want once you are off the side of the road."

I hated when Billy was reasonable when we fought. The sentiment snarled inside me. I sat heavily in the seat and crossed my arms in annoyance.

"Suddenly so quiet," Billy noted.

"You're a jerk," I grumbled.

"I know, I'm the worse. What kind of animal picks up his fiancé from the side of the road?"

"It's not a joke. You're going to be late. I told you not to come."

"Lil, here's the thing... the concert can't start without me."

"You are such a self-centered asshole sometimes."

A laugh slipped from Billy's lips.

"I'm not kidding," I shot as I slumped deeper into the heated seat.

"I know. I'm the asshole. We agree."

"Don't agree with me!" I yelled back.

"Okay, I completely disagree with you," he leveled.

"You're the worst. You can't just..." My anger took over and stole my words.

"What, Lil? What am I? You can have your tantrum and yell and scream all you want, but I'm always going to put you and the family first. It's served me well for forty-five years, and I don't intend to change now."

"I'm not throwing a tantrum!"

"Really? You're currently slumped down in the seat with your arms crossed, unable to look at me while you scream about how terrible I am. If that's not a tantrum, then I'm not driving a car right now."

"Fuck off; it's a Tesla. You're probably on autopilot," I grumbled.

"Nope," Billy shot as he pulled off to the side of the road and gave his full attention to me. "You can be mad at me because I didn't do what you asked. You can be frustrated by your day and that it didn't go as either of us planned. You can even scream at me for coming to get you after you told me not to come. But never tell me to fuck off, Lil. I'm going to be your husband. My priority is you. Get used to it and grow up. You're stuck with me, and I'll never fuck off."

I recoiled at his tone as the door jutted into my back.

His tone softened. "I love you, Lil. I'm sorry for my tone, but you can't tell me to fuck off when I'm doing my best."

"You don't need to do everything. I could have just waited for AAA," I whimpered as the anger subsided and the loneliness seeped back.

Billy took a deep breath to diffuse the frustration that was mounting in him. "Lily, you've spent twenty years proving to me you don't need me, and I've spent twenty years wanting you to need me. I thought we agreed that while you don't need it, you want it; you want me."

"I do, but this is just a flat tire," I argued in a small voice.

"It's always just something; it's just a flat tire, it's just a bad day, it's just a little less than expected. Did you want to wait in the cold, dark night for a stranger to help you? Was there someone else you wanted to help? Tell me that. Tell me right now, when you need help, do you want someone else?"

"No," I admitted.

Billy's frustration broke, and a smile crossed his face, complete with dimples.

"I love you, Billy. I just... I don't want to be that girl..."

"What girl?" Billy pressed.

"The one that derails you because she is a pathetic damsel in distress," I admitted.

Billy giggled. "People may call you many things, but a damsel in distress is not one of them." His words did little to calm my frustration. "Lil, when it comes to taking care of you and the family, that's what I love. I want to do these things. Everything else just fills the time."

"I'm sorry I told you to fuck off," I childishly murmured.

"I know," he smiled before kissing my forehead and settling back in his seat.

"I love you. I'm excited you came so I can see the concert tonight," I admitted.

He smiled as he pulled back onto the road. "I'm excited for you to be there. Oh, and..." he reached behind him and fished around the backseat without taking his eyes off the road. "I know you ate nothing," he added as he handed me a sandwich. "Turkey with lettuce and mustard, no cheese, no tomatoes."

"You're the best," I smiled as I unwrapped the sandwich.

"Not a jerk?" He teased.

"Sometimes, but it's all part of your charm."

"Well, in the vein of being a jerk. You've been crying. I'm acknowledging it. I trust that when you want to talk about what's going on, you will. And if you tell me you were crying over a flat, so help me..."

I moved my gaze out the window as another flood of tears threatened. "I wasn't crying over the car."

"You don't need to talk about it now," he soothed as a hand slipped to my knee. "I wanted to acknowledge that I see it and am here. Whenever you need me, I am here."

I wanted to respond, to say anything. I could hear the worry in his voice and knew it wasn't fair. But the threat of tears stole any words I wished to muster. My brain was shredding at what I thought I knew of myself and what I suddenly wanted more than anything. I made no sense in my head, so how could I talk about it? Instead, I crumbled the sandwich wrapped in a poor attempt to seem like I was eating in the darkened car.