what I thought was love and forgiveness, it was like my heart took a time machine back to when I first met her. I remembered how being with her pushed aside the dark, sour feelings that swirled inside me and made me light and happy. How it felt to hold her in my arms, to feel her heart beat in rhythm with mine.
The way she looked at me yesterday, the sound of her breath hitching when I moved close to her, the easy way we fell back into our old style of banter… I was sure she felt the same way.
And then the next thing I knew, she was making it clear she wanted nothing to do with me as a person. She didn’t want to spend time with me, she just wanted our band to lend her our fame and prestige. She didn’t want so much as a lousy dinner date with me. Well, hell, at least she was honest about it, unlike most of the women who put on a show of liking me so they can get a spot on the gossip websites.
The problem is, Callie is the one woman I’ve ever thought was the real thing. A woman who loved me for myself, not what I could give her.
But I’ve created this fake fiancée story and now I have to run with it, no matter how much Callie hates me.
I lean against the wall, scowling at the bathroom door.
We ignored each other after the concert last night. Callie slept on the sofa in the lounge as our driver headed back towards Nashville, and we haven’t said two words to each other since we showed up at the rental house that Magnus and I share.
She spent the day on her phone and laptop, and what’s even more annoying, when Monica bustled in with her makeup and garment bags, Callie lit up and greeted her with a smile that should have been saved for me.
Not that I’ve been longing for her rare, precious smile or her tinkling laugh all day. Not at all. Couldn’t care less.
Well, nothing I can do about it now. I’m already dressed up for dinner, in my “aw-shucks I’m just a humble country boy” persona. Black leather dinner jacket, black jeans, fancy cowboy boots, and a bolo tie, all picked out by Monica. I start pacing the hallway, wondering if I’ve made a terrible mistake.
Callie’s angry, and she’s holding a grudge, and she already threw me under the bus once—and I’ve committed to entrusting the band’s future and reputation to her? What was I thinking?
I must have absolutely lost my mind. Just like I did ten years ago when I started something with her that I was in no position to see through.
I wish she’d at least let me apologize for that, but she shut me down when I tried to explain, and I can’t really blame her.
She thinks I lied to her, but I didn’t. I meant every word I said to her. For a couple of short, sweet months over that summer, she made my heart sing. I’ve never felt the same way about a woman before or since. She was sweet and funny and she made me feel like the center of the universe.
But we were both so young. I’d been working for years to get my music heard, to reach a wider audience, and I’d finally started getting the attention of some major players. People were snapping up our singles and our merchandise. Magnus was about to get out of jail, and we had a tour booked as the opening act for a popular band, and everything I’d worked so hard to accomplish was finally within my grasp.
I had no family, other than Magnus, and no hometown. My music was everything to me.
And then the day before I was supposed to take Callie on the road with me, I kissed her. It blew me away—and terrified me. Her embrace felt like love and home and acceptance. Everything I yearned for.
She’d said she would travel the world with me, but Bitter End was her home, and she would have been miserable. She couldn’t leave, and I couldn’t stay.
It killed me to drive away and leave her behind. It was a lousy thing to do to a woman who’d given me her whole heart. I should at least have been honest with her, and I’ve always regretted it.
I guess it’s coming back to bite me in the ass. For years I carried