Page 13 of My Rockstar Ex's Broken Vows

"You know what?" Her voice is eerily calm now. "It doesn't matter. None of it matters. You made your choice when you made me an empty promise and left me in Charleston. You're a worthless piece of shit. Glad you made it."

She turns to leave, but I catch her arm before I can stop myself. "I didn't know it was you. How could I? I never expected to see you there, at a party in New York."

"Let go of me." Ice drips from every word.

I drop my hand like it burns, afraid of the fire in her eyes. "I tried to reach you. After Charleston. I called, I wrote?—"

"Lying then, lying now." She backs away. "At least you're consistent. I hate you!"

A taxi pulls up to the curb. She's in it before I can blink and then she’s gone. As quickly as she reappeared, she disappeared,leaving only a hint of her perfume. That and the ice from her eyes stay with me.

I watch the yellow cab disappear into traffic as my mind spins. She's here. In New York. Not in Charleston where I left her.

Different style. Different life.

Does she live here? She must, why else would she be here? In a city of well over eight million people, how could we run into each other?

So many questions.

My phone rings in my pocket. I pull it out to see it’s Luke.

"Where are you? We need to finish that track today."

"I just saw Sienna."

Silence on the other end. Then, "Shit."

"Yeah."

"The one from Charleston?"

I lean against the brick wall of Needle & Bean, letting my head fall back. "She was at the masquerade, Luke. She was the woman in green."

More silence. "That's... really fucked up."

"She said I never tried to reach her." The pieces aren't fitting. "But I did. For months. Letters, calls. I have to make her know the truth."

"Callum." Luke's voice carries a warning. "Whatever you're thinking, don't. Morrison's breathing down our necks. You need to stay focused on what we are doing here and now. Don't fuckthis up over some wild goose chase. She is your past. Focus on the future."

But I'm already pulling up Emma Chen'sInstagramon my phone. Emma. Sienna's best friend from college. The quiet art major who'd roll her eyes at our drama but always had Sienna's back. Her family owns that Chinese restaurant in Manhattan—Golden Dragon. That must be the connection, how Sienna ended up here.

Emma's profile is public. Recent photos show her painting murals at some elementary school, shots of downtown streets, and food from her family's restaurant.

Then I see it—a photo from three weeks ago. Emma and Sienna, wine glasses raised, the caption reading, "Nothing better than helping your bestie start fresh. #Brooklyn #NewBeginnings"

Start fresh? Is a move to New York her fresh start?

I scroll further, but there's nothing else with Sienna. Just like her to stay off social media. But something about this doesn't add up. Sure, maybe I gave up too easily back then. Let her silence convince me she'd moved on. But to say I never tried to reach her at all?

"I'll be at the studio in twenty."

I end the call, but I can't move. Not yet.

Because now I know two things for certain:

One: Sienna Hughey is in New York.

And two: Someone made damn sure we stayed apart six years ago.

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