Page 16 of My Rockstar Ex's Broken Vows

The curtain rises. Twenty kindergarteners sit at keyboards and my heart swells. Ollie is smack dab in the middle. His red bow tie glows under the stage lights.

When he starts playing, everything else fades. His small fingers find the keys like they were born to. Like music lives in his blood.

Marcus shifts in his seat.

The other children plunk out "Twinkle, Twinkle" with careful concentration. But Ollie's adding extra notes, finding harmonies that weren't taught. His teacher beams from the side of the stage.

I glance over at his father, expecting to see him beaming, too. Instead, he has his face buried in his damn phone. His jaw clenches as he scrolls.

What in the hell?

At least Margaret is focused and smiling.

The piece ends. Parents applaud. As the next group takes their places, Ollie bounces off stage and makes a beeline for me, but Marcus intercepts him. He kneels in front of him to get at his eye level.

"That was so great, Buddy." Marcus straightens Ollie's bow tie with precise movements. "Did you go off script? Sometimes it looked like you were doing your own thing up there."

God, he is even an asshole to his son. I'm going to lose my shit if he takes away his pride in his performance.

Ollie's face falls. "Miss Robinson says being creative is good."

Atta boy, I want to say. But I stay quiet and let them have their moment. I’ll make sure to encourage him on our walk home. I'mso proud of him for standing up to his father. He will have to have that confidence growing up in his shadow.

"Miss Robinson teaches art, not music." Marcus's tone carries that lawyer's edge. "Speaking of school, I've been thinking more about Trinity Prep. Their music program is exceptional. Very structured." He looks up at me when he says it.

There it is. The real reason he's here—another push for private school.

"Daddy, can I show Mommy my drawing from art class?"

"Of course." Marcus's smile doesn't reach his eyes. He glances at his phone one more time before letting Ollie lead me toward his classroom.

"Did you see?" Ollie skips ahead of us. "I made up my own parts! Miss Robinson says I have a special ear. My ear looks normal to me, but she says I am really good."

"I did." My throat tightens watching him. So much joy, so much natural talent. "You were amazing. And I absolutely love that you go off script," I say quietly for his special ears only. I stop short of suggesting he dye his hair purple.

"Never stop doing that, do you hear me? You and your ears are special!"

Marcus clears his throat behind us. Unfortunately, we didn't lose him. "About Trinity?—"

"Not now, Marcus."

"The application deadline?—"

"Marcus." I stop walking. "Can we just let him have this moment? Without turning it into another custody negotiation?"

His phone buzzes again. Whatever he sees makes him pale slightly. I don’t even know why he’s here. He is more interested in whatever he sees on his phone than his son.

"Mommy, look!" Ollie tugs me toward his classroom, past walls lined with student artwork. "Miss Robinson taught me how to draw a guitar!"

Sure enough, there's a surprisingly detailed electric guitar rendered in crayon, complete with strings and pickups. Something twists in my stomach. Ever since seeing Callum two weeks ago, every little reminder feels like a punch to the gut.

"That's really good, sweet boy." I force a smile. "Maybe we can get you some guitar lessons?—"

"No." Marcus's voice cuts through the hallway. A passing teacher startles. "He needs to focus on piano. Classical training builds a proper foundation."

"Why does it feel like no matter what he wants you have to say no and present your own ideas?" The words slip out before I can stop them. He is a child, for Christ's sake. It was one thing that he constantly did it to me, but I can't stand by and watch him do the same to Ollie.

Marcus's phone buzzes again. I can see that he wants to look at it but he resists to make sure he keeps the upper hand with me. "Maybe it's because I'm the only one who thinks through things, instead of jumping from one thing to another."

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