Page 81 of My Rockstar Ex's Broken Vows

"This," she says, gesturing to me. "The music life. The way you talk about it, the way you embody it. It’s like you’ve found exactly where you’re supposed to be."

The words are a compliment, but they twist something in my chest. I glance down at the table, the whiskey in my glass catching the light. "It's not an easy dream to pursue."

Her smile fades slightly, and she leans forward, her elbows resting on the table. "I know it wasn’t easy. You always worked so hard, even back then. You’ve earned every bit of this."

I shake my head, a quiet laugh slipping out. "No, it’s not just that. I mean my dad."

Her brow furrows, and I see the flicker of recognition in her eyes. She nods slowly. "I remember. You told me he played bars, that he loved music. But you never really talked much about him. I remember when he died not long after we started dating, but I never got to meet him."

"Because I didn’t know how to talk about him," I admit, swirling the whiskey in my glass. "It always felt depressing and frustrating. I admired and looked up to my dad, but I also resented him so much."

She stays quiet, letting me set the pace. Her fingers toy with the edge of her wine glass, but her eyes stay locked on mine, patient.

"I'm sure I told you he played bars across South Carolina for twenty-five years," I start, staring at the amber liquid in my glass.

"Yeah, I remember seeing a poster of him you had in your room. That's where you got it from."

"I guess. But he never made it out of Charleston. Unless you consider Summerville out of Charleston, which is twenty-three miles west. He never even tried to, really. He said he was playing for the love of it. And maybe that was true at first. But after a while, I don’t know. I think he was scared to fail if he aimed higher."

Her expression softens, and she reaches across the table, her fingers brushing mine. "Callum I know he struggled. You mentioned that, back in college. Alcohol can take the fight out of the most ambitious person."

I take a slow breath, letting her touch steady me. "Sure. It's a disease, not a choice. I know all of that. But when the gigs dried up and things got harder, he should have picked himself up by his bootstraps and been a man. Unfortunately, he went in the opposite direction. By the time I was sixteen, he wasn’t just drinking to take the edge off—he was drinking to fade."

Her hand tightens around mine, and I glance up at her. My throat tightens as I fight to keep my emotions at bay. "He wasn’t a bad dad. He loved us. But... he was always chasing something, you know? The next gig, the next song, the next big break that never came. And when it didn’t pan out, he’d disappear into the bottle."

I pause, my thumb rubbing absently over the edge of my glass. "He died when I was nineteen and Ethan was twenty-one. I was in my freshman year in college. Cirrhosis. And at his funeral, my mom said something I’ve never been able to shake. She said, ‘I wasted my life waiting for his dream.'"

Sienna’s fingers tighten around mine, her eyes wide and glassy with unshed tears. "Callum, I had no idea. You told me there was no funeral when I asked you."

"I didn’t tell you," I say softly, my voice breaking just a little. "Because it gutted me. And because I was ashamed. I looked at her, standing there at his grave, and all I could think was that she was right. He spent his whole life chasing something that didn’t happen, and it left her carrying everything on her own. Theyboth didn’t live up to their potential because my father dragged them—and us—down."

"Your mom was a nurse, right? I remember how sweet she always was."

I pause, swallowing hard, my fingers tightening around the edge of the table. "Yes, she was an ICU nurse. She worked a lifetime of night shifts to keep us afloat, and he was out playing bars, talking about the big break that never came. By the time I was old enough to get it, I saw how much she resented him. Resented us, even, for tying her to a life she never dreamed for herself."

I glance up at Sienna, and her eyes are soft, and steady, waiting for me to keep going. "The worst part is, I don’t think she hated him for chasing the dream. I think she hated him for dragging her into it without a way out. And I was so scared of doing that to you—tying you to a life where all you did was wait for me to figure out if I was going to make it."

Sienna’s lips part slightly. Her brow furrows as she studies me. "You thought if you didn't take Morrison's offer to move the Nashville, that I’d end up like her?" Her voice is quiet and careful, and hearing her say those words nearly rips out my heart.

I let out a shaky breath, my chest tight. "Yeah. I did. When that oil salesman of a talent agent came along and offered me Nashville, I saw it as my shot—not just to make something of myself, but to make sure you didn’t waste your life waiting for me. I didn't say so then because I didn't know how, but I was protecting you. When I said I would come back, I meant it. I thought you gave up on me."

She leans back slightly, her fingers brushing over her wine glass. "This insight would have been helpful six years ago," she says with a laugh.

I can tell she is trying to lighten the moment, but I do think what she is saying is true. I was too immature to communicate effectively, and when I thought she didn't respond, I assumed she was done.

All I can do is shake my head, letting out a humorless laugh. "For you and me both. Luckily, I've grown up a little in that time. I promise to always communicate with you. If nothing else, that is my pledge to you."

Her eyes widen slightly, her fingers tightening around the glass. "I promise to do the same for you."

Her gaze doesn’t waver, but I can see the storm behind her eyes, the way she’s working through everything I’ve said. Finally, she leans forward again, her hand brushing mine. "Callum, you didn’t drag me down. You broke my heart, yeah. But you didn’t ruin me. And you didn’t make me wait. Although, in retrospect, I wish I had!"

Her words hit like a jolt, and for a second, I can’t breathe. I stare at her, my chest tight with something I can’t name. Finally, I shake my head. "You deserved better than to wait. But look, here we are now!"

"What? You have that look."

"We signed the paperwork yesterday. Morrison’s officially out of my life."

"Seriously? That’s huge, Callum. It’s done-done? Like he can’t come back no matter what?"

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