Page 22 of My Rockstar Ex's Broken Vows

"The masked hottie that turned out to be your ex from college? What's his name? Callum?"

I nod, swallowing hard. "It’s just… seeing him again after all this time, it’s like I’ve been yanked back to six years ago. Back to when everything fell apart. And now he’s… everywhere. He’s finally getting what he wanted, and I’m here, divorced and?—"

"Raising an amazing kid," Brooke interrupts firmly. "Building a life. Don’t sell yourself short."

"But it doesn’t feel like enough," I admit, the confession scraping raw. "He left, Brooke. He left, and now he gets to be this big star while I’m… stuck."

Brooke’s eyes soften, but she doesn’t coddle me. "You’re not stuck, Sienna. You’re just… paused. Big difference. And you’re allowed to feel bitter about Callum. He hurt you. But maybe this is your chance to figure out why seeing him again is hitting you so hard."

"I don’t want to figure it out," I mutter. "I want him to disappear."

"No, you don’t," Brooke says, her tone knowing. "If you did, you wouldn’t have kissed him at that gala."

My face burns. "I didn’t know it was him."

"Sure. But it was. And now you have to decide whether you want to keep running from whatever this is or face it head-on."

Her words settle like stones in my stomach.

"Running? That’s not what I have been doing," I say quietly, more to myself than to Brooke. "I wasn’t running. I just… I had to let him go. What else was I supposed to do? He moved on and I never heard from him again."

Brooke doesn’t rush to respond. She lets the silence stretch. The gravity of that reality fills the space between us.

"I loved him," I finally admit, the words raw and trembling, as if saying them aloud makes them more real. "I loved him so much it hurt, but there was nothing I could do to make him love me back. He said he’d come back, but he didn’t. So, eventually, I stopped waiting. I stopped thinking about him. I moved on—at least I thought I did. And now…"

"And now he’s back," Brooke finishes gently.

I shake my head, pushing back the tears threatening to spill. "No. He’s not back. He’s just… here. And it feels like every scar I worked so hard to heal has been ripped open again."

Brooke stands up and walks over to me, her hand landing lightly on mine. "Maybe that’s the problem. You didn’t heal, Sienna. You buried it. You built a life, sure, but not one where you could let yourself feel everything you needed to feel about him. You filled the pain of the end of you with Marcus, and you never got closure."

I blink at her, my throat tightening. "I had no choice. Well, I guess I did have a choice. I didn't have to marry Marcus. But as far as Callum, he made that decision for me."

Brooke doesn’t flinch at my bitterness. Instead, she meets my gaze, her voice steady. "Maybe there’s more to the story than you know. You haven't talked to him in years. You have no idea what he has been through. Just like he doesn't know what you've been through. Does he know you were married? Does he know you have a kid?"

The words hit me like a sucker punch, and I pull my hand away. I stand to busy myself with wiping down the cabinets for the second time today. "Probably not. He wasn't friends with Marcus and I haven't talked to his brother since we split."

"Exactly. So maybe a conversation will help you to put that to bed once and for all."

I spin around with a tone sharper than I intended. "And what am I supposed to do, Brooke? Ask him why he kissed me at that gala. Why did he look at me like he knew me and didn’t say a damn thing?"

Brooke crosses her arms. Her gaze is unflinching. "Maybe. Or maybe when he told you he didn't know it was you, it was the truth. If he didn't, it's pretty damn coincidental you both kissed each other not knowing. I'd want to get to the bottom of that first and foremost. He owes you that. It can’t hurt."

The words hang in the air like a challenge, daring me to confront something I’ve spent years pretending didn’t exist. My chest feels tight and my pulse pounds in my ears. I want to argue, to tell Brooke she’s wrong, but I can’t. Because deep down, I know she’s right. As usual.

I spent years putting Callum out of my mind, telling myself it didn’t matter anymore. But he’s here now, and seeing him brings back all the questions I’ve always wanted to ask him—the ones I swore I didn’t need answers to.

Brooke leans forward, resting her elbows on the counter, her voice gentler now. "You don’t have to decide this second. But don’t pretend you don’t want answers, Sienna. You deserve them. And if you ever want to truly move on, you need to ask him. Otherwise, you’ll be stuck like this, spinning in circles, trying to make sense of something you can’t explain."

"And what if asking doesn’t make it any better? What if it makes it worse?"

Brooke studies me for a moment, then shrugs. "It might momentarily. But at least you’ll know you can truly leave him and the doubts behind and questions."

The thought sends a chill through me.

I push my pasta around my plate, my appetite long gone. "I don’t even know how to begin. I stormed off at the café, Brooke. I practically bit his head off, and I—" My voice falters. "I have no idea how to find him."

Brooke smirks as she picks up her fork. "Oh, you'd be amazed at my detective skills. We can find him."

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