Page 30 of My Rockstar Ex's Broken Vows

"Hey," I say, leaning forward, elbows on my knees. "So... about that coffee."

She laughs lightly, the sound warming something in my chest. "You’re persistent, I’ll give you that."

"Only when it’s worth it," I reply, the words slipping out before I can filter them.

There’s a pause, and I wonder if I’ve pushed too far, but then she says, "I love Prospect Park. If you can meet me there in twenty minutes, I’ll let you buy me a coffee."

I glance at the clock on the studio wall and do a quick calculation. "I’m in Greenwich Village. If traffic’s not bad, I can make it."

She rattles off an address near one of the park’s monuments, and I commit it to memory. "Tell your driver to drop you there," she says. "You’ll see a path lined with benches. I’ll meet you by the first one."

"Got it," I say. "Twenty minutes."

We hang up, and I sit back, the restless energy shifting into something more focused. Excitement. Anticipation. Whateverthis is with Sienna, it feels fragile but real, like a thread I’m desperate to hold on to.

I grab my jacket and head out, already texting my driver the address. Prospect Park. Twenty minutes. I’m not sure what I’ll say when I see her, but I know one thing for sure: I’m not letting this moment slip away.

Prospect Park

7:17 PM

The pathto the monument is so dim that the park lights barely cut through the shadows. It’s quiet enough that my boots on the pavement sound too loud, almost like I don’t belong here. I'm not entirely sure I do.

The air’s got that bite to it—the kind that makes you regret not grabbing a warmer jacket—but at least it’s not freezing anymore. Winter’s hanging on by its fingernails, but spring’s trying to push it out.

I spot her before she sees me, leaning against one of the benches. Her hands are stuffed into the pockets of a sleek beige coat that hugs her frame just enough to remind me how small she is.

She’s wearing fitted jeans and boots. Her long dark hair is loose and falling in waves over her shoulders. The faint glow from the streetlights catches the green in her eyes when she glances toward the path, and for a second, I just stand there like an idiot, caught off guard by how effortlessly beautiful she looks.

There’s something about her posture—relaxed but not careless—that makes my chest tighten. She looks different, more mature maybe, but still Sienna. Still the same girl, a little more polished with longer hair, but possibly the only one who could stop me in my tracks without even trying.

Then her gaze lands on me, and a smirk tugs at her lips. "You planning to hover there all night, or are you going to say hi?"

"Hi," I say, striding toward her. "Happy?"

"Thrilled." She gestures toward the bench. "I figured I’d wait here in case you got lost. Didn’t want you wandering aimlessly through Brooklyn."

"Generous of you," I say, sitting beside her. "Although I wasn’t worried. You gave great directions."

"Good to know my talents extend to being a human GPS," she quips. Her tone is light, but her eyes seem to be searching. "So, what’s so urgent you had to haul yourself to Prospect Park on a Monday night?"

I rub the back of my neck, grinning. "Maybe I just like the company."

"Bullshit," she says with a laugh, shaking her head. "But fine, I’ll play along."

For a moment, we just sit there. The city sounds are distant and muted, like the park exists only in its own little bubble. She leans back on the bench, looking at me with an ease that wasn’t there before. It’s a small thing, but it feels big.

"So," she says, her voice softer now, "tell me about Nashville. What happened after you left? Since you ghosted me, I had to make up your prestigious music story."

I exhale slowly, leaning forward, elbows on my knees. "It was far from prestigious. Nashville was... a shitshow, honestly. At first, anyway."

She tilts her head, curiosity flickering in her eyes. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," I say, the word heavy with all the memories it carries. "Remember Jake Morrison? The talent scout guy who showed up at The Royal American that night?"

She nods, her brow furrowing. "Oh, I'll never forget him. I loved him, for giving you a chance to live out your dream, and I hated him. He was the person who waltzed into my life and turned it upside down."

I let out a dry laugh. "That’s the one. He pretty much fucked both of us."

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