Page 50 of My Rockstar Ex's Broken Vows

I probably never did.

Like the good friend she is, she was incensed right along with me. But, in the way only Emma can do it without it feeling like a slap in the face, she reminded me that I have no say in what he does or who he sees. It’s not like we are dating or are exclusive.

"So, that's good, right? That you talked, I mean,” she asks, her voice softening. “I’m assuming they aren’t a couple anymore, right, if he is trying to hook up with you?”

”They aren’t a couple. But, still, I don’t know." I lean back, closing my eyes for a moment. "He explained everything. He said the stuff with Finley is all PR, that there’s nothing between them. And part of me believes him, but... what if he’s just saying what I want to hear?"

Emma snorts. "Callum doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy who says what people want to hear. If anything, he says the opposite."

I let out a small laugh, despite myself. "Fair point."

"So what’s the real issue?" she asks, turning to face me fully. "Because it sounds like he told you the truth."

I bite my lip, hesitating. "It’s just... if we do this, if I let myself trust him again, what happens when he leaves? He lives in Nashville. My life is here. Ollie’s life is here. How does that even work?"

Emma leans forward, resting her elbows on her knees. "Okay, first of all, you’re jumping way ahead. Nobody’s talking about moving or making huge decisions right now."

"But—"

"But nothing," she cuts me off. "Sienna, you’re trying to figure out the entire future before you’ve even figured out the present. He’s telling you he wants to try, and from the sound of it, you want that, too. So why not take it slow right now? You may not even want him like that anymore. You guys need to get to know each other again, first."

I frown, my arms crossing over my chest. "And Ollie?"

"What about him?" she asks. "You don’t have to involve him right now. See Callum when Ollie’s with Marcus or at school, or whatever. This doesn’t have to be an all-or-nothing thing. You’refocusing on the big picture when all you really need to do is decide if you’re willing to take the first step."

Her words are refreshing and I sit here, turning them over in my mind. "What if it doesn’t work?" I ask quietly.

Emma shrugs. "Then it doesn’t work. Happens every day. People date and then they move on. You won’t die, I promise."

"I know, but…"

"But nothing. If you want to know, you have to really try. And honestly, Sienna? It sounds like you’d regret not trying a hell of a lot more than you’d regret taking a chance."

I glance at her, and her words soften the edges of my doubt. She’s right. I’m too caught up in what-ifs and worst-case scenarios to see what’s right in front of me. I'm looking for red flags and reasons to push him away. What I should do is chill the fuck out and let the chips fall where they may.

I exhale slowly, leaning back against the couch. "When did you get so wise?"

Emma grins, nudging me with her elbow. "I’ve always been wise. You just don’t listen."

This time, my laugh is real. "Thanks, Em. I’ve always known you were wise."

"Anytime," she says, grabbing her coat as she stands. "Now, go figure your shit out. But don’t overthink it. Just take the next step. Stop being so dramatic."

1:41PM

The apartment feels too quiet. I’m done with my design work, reorganized my files on my desktop twice and vacuumed the house. Now I’m eyeing the books on my shelf and considering organizing them alphabetically. Anything to keep my hands busy and my mind off him.

But no matter what I do, his words keep circling back, like a song I can’t stop humming. "I’m not giving up, Sienna. Not this time."

My phone buzzes on the counter, startling me. I glance at the screen, my stomach twisting when I see his name.

Hey. Like I said, I'm not giving up. I won't crowd you too much, but I want you to know I mean it. No pressure to respond.

I stare at the message, my thumb hovering over the screen. I don’t reply. Not yet.

A few minutes later, it buzzes again.

Okay, I’m lying. A little pressure. There’s this cocktail at the Mercer I’ve been dying to try—rosemary something-or-other. Any chance I can talk you into meeting me there? Neutral territory, no funny business. Just a drink.

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