Page 25 of My Rockstar Ex's Broken Vows

I laugh softly, scratching the back of my neck. "I’m not. My label made me go. Some kind of networking thing. They said it was part of the deal, so…" I shrug. "I showed up, did my part, and then tried to disappear into the corners."

Her lips twitch, as if she’s suppressing a smile. "Disappearing didn’t work out so well for you."

"Apparently not." I grin, then tilt my head, studying her. "What about you? Fancy black-tie galas don’t exactly scream Sienna Hughey."

"Walker."

"Huh?" I asked, confused.

"My last name is Walker."

Oh, shit. She's married. Immediately I look down to her ring finger in search of a ring. Then I remember she said her son was with his father. What the fuck?! I feel like I am in the twilight zone right now. Shake it off…

Her expression shifts, something unreadable flickering across her face. "Brooke, my friend, dragged me," she says, snapping me out of my downward spiral.

I look at her with raised eyebrows, trying to keep up.

"It was her idea of a post-divorce celebration."

I blink, the word hitting me like a sudden chord change. Divorce. "Ahh. Okay. Post-divorce? You got married?"

Her brow furrows, and she leans back slightly. "Yeah. You remember Marcus Walker, right?"

I must have misheard her. "Marcus? Marcus… Marcus?" I never would have put her with douchebag Marcus Walker.

"Yes, Callum. Marcus Marcus," she says, her tone edged with a mix of amusement and irritation. "You knew him. He was my friend."

Friend. That word drops between us like a stone, and for a moment, all I can think about is Marcus standing stiffly in his khakis and polo shirts, always so annoyingly frat-boy-esque. "I didn’t realize…" I pause, the pieces struggling to fit together. "Were you two… I mean, back then?"

She shakes her head quickly. "No. God, no. We were just friends. Always."

I study her face, searching for any hint of something more, but she meets my gaze steadily. "I can’t picture it," I admit. "Youand Marcus. It just… doesn’t make sense. I never would have thought…"

She lets out a soft laugh, and the sound is both bitter and self-deprecating. "You’re not wrong. Probably why it didn’t work. He’s… very structured. Very put together."

"Which is the opposite of you," I say without thinking, then wince. "I mean, in a good way. You’re… you."

She raises an eyebrow, but there’s a flicker of warmth in her expression. "Yeah, well. Turns out, that’s not what Marcus wanted. Or, rather, I should say, his vision of me is not what I wanted. Never mind, it's complicated."

The unspoken implication hangs in the air, and I get the sense there’s more to that story. But before I can push, she shifts the conversation.

"So, what about you?" she asks, her voice quieter now. "Why did you say you’d come back, and then… nothing? In Charleston, I mean, when you left for Nashville. No calls, no emails. Nothing."

My chest tightens. I admire her chutzpah to go straight for the jugular, even if it leaves me stunned for a moment. "Sienna, I tried. I called you. I texted and emailed. Hell, I even wrote a couple of letters. Eventually, I figured I was being a pathetic loser and decided you didn't want to hear from me."

Her brow furrows. "No, you didn’t. I didn’t get anything from you."

I sit up straighter, the frustration bubbling to the surface. "I did, Sienna. I swear I did. I thought you didn’t want to hear from me. That you’d moved on."

Her eyes flash with something between anger and disbelief. "I didn’t move on. I tried to reach you, too. I left messages. I emailed you."

"Nothing came through," I say, my voice rough. "Not a single thing."

She shakes her head, her lips pressing into a thin line. "That doesn’t make sense."

"No, it doesn’t," I admit, my thoughts spinning. And then I remember something Luke said the other day, about Ethan trying to reach her, too, with no luck. "Ethan tried to get in touch with you, too."

Her head tilts slightly, her confusion deepening. "Ethan? When? I never talked to him again after the day you left."

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