“Watch this.” He keeps playing when I stop. Removing the guitar strap from around my neck, I hold the instrument out to Waylon. He stares down at it. I hand him the pick. “Go ahead. I know you want to.” Frowning, he looks over at Shawn, and my chest squeezes as I hold my breath, waiting to see what he’ll do… Steeling myself for how huge this feels. He seems to sense it too. How big of a deal it is. But rather than draw attention to it, and try to get me to explain why I’m suddenly okay with this—music, playing again… He takes the guitar, and throws the red strap around his neck.
This moment is written perfectly
