Page 37 of My Rockstar Ex's Broken Vows

I roll my eyes, but her words hit in that soft, uncomfortable spot where compliments rarely land. She’s right, though. I’m doing it—getting my life back together piece by piece. It’s not perfect, but it’s mine.

"And speaking of getting your life together..." Brooke tilts her head, a wicked gleam in her eye. "How’s Callum? Emma told me you've seen him again. I can't believe I have to hear it from someone else."

The tea almost goes down the wrong pipe. "What? I mean, it's nothing. We ran into each other in Chinatown on Sunday when I was dropping off the signs."

I told Emma I bumped into him leaving the Golden Dragon, but that is all I told her. How did she, and especially Brooke, deduce anything from that? Emma certainly didn't pry. Shit.

"Don’t play coy," she says, waving a hand. "You’ve got that post-sex glow, Sienna. I can read it a mile away."

Heat rushes to my face, and I avoid her gaze, stirring my tea unnecessarily. "I don’t have a glow."

"Oh, you absolutely have a glow. So, out with it. Was it as amazing as you remembered?"

"It wasn’t—" I stop myself because there’s no point in denying it. Brooke sees through everything. "It was... amazing."

Her grin spreads like a cat who just caught the canary. "I knew it! Tell me everything."

I groan, but it’s half-hearted. She won’t let this go, and part of me wants to talk about it. To make sense of it. Even if I know it's wrong and probably a disaster in the making. "It just... happened. I didn’t plan it, obviously. We were walking back from the park, and then?—"

"And then he rocked your world," Brooke interrupts, laughing like a schoolgirl.

I laugh, shaking my head. "Yes, okay? It was incredible. But also confusing."

"Confusing how?" she asks, her tone shifting to something more thoughtful. "It’s Callum. You’ve been dreaming about him foryears. You're post-divorce. Remember, we are doing it, following our g-spots, not analyzing it."

"Exactly," I say, the words tumbling out before I can stop them. "I’ve secretly thought about him, yearned for him. And I've hated him. And resented him for... everything. For leaving. For not being there. For?—"

"For breaking your heart," Brooke finishes gently.

I nod, the lump in my throat catching me off guard. "Yeah. And Sunday night was so... intense. It felt natural, like no time had passed, but at the same time, it scares the hell out of me. I can’t tell if it’s nostalgia or something real."

Brooke’s quiet for a beat, studying me like she’s trying to decide how hard to push. "Did he say anything about why he left? About why he didn’t come back?"

"He said he tried," I admit, my voice tight. "That he called, texted, even wrote letters, but I never got any of it.”

“What? How?”

“He got a new number when he moved to Nashville, so it makes sense he never got my calls and texts. But it still seems odd. I really believe he supposedly did all of that, and somehow, it all got lost in the ether. It’s... a lot to believe."

“So, you don’t believe him?" she asks, her brow furrowing.

"I don’t know," I say honestly. "Part of me wants to. It would make some of the pain subside, you know? Like maybe he didn’t just abandon me. But another part of me keeps thinking... what if he’s lying? What if he just didn’t care enough to try harder? And now he is saying whatever he needs to make amends."

Brooke leans back, crossing her arms. "Did he seem like he was lying?"

I hesitate. "No. He seemed honest, I guess. Like I said, our time together—on the walk and in bed—was perfect. It was so easy. But then the next morning?—"

"What happened the next morning?" she presses. "This was Sunday night, so are we talking about yesterday?"

I sigh, the memory still fresh and raw. "Yes. He got a text. It woke him up, and he left in a rush. He said it was work, but he seemed... panicked. And the Callum I knew couldn’t have cared less about a meeting."

Brooke raises an eyebrow. "You think it was a woman."

"I don’t know," I admit, my chest tightening. "It just felt... off. Like there’s something he’s not telling me. And after everything, how am I supposed to trust him? Opening myself up to him again... it’s terrifying. Not just for me, but for Ollie. I can’t let him hurt us."

Brooke reaches across the table, squeezing my hand. "Sienna, you’re allowed to protect yourself. And Ollie. But you’re also allowed to want something for yourself. You deserve to be happy, babe. Whatever that looks like."

Her words linger in the air between us, hitting nerves that are raw and over-exposed. I stir my tea, watching the ripples spread and disappear. What am I going to do? About Callum, about Ollie, about building my new life?

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