Page 134 of A Ballad of Betrayal and Beauty

Fuck. Am I in the hospital? How did I?—

The car.

I stopped, but that truck went right through a red light and . . . why was I driving? I hear a gentle sigh and look down, my heart rocketing into my throat at Dusty’s curled-up form.

It’s all it takes to remember. The way her body responded to mine in my bed. How Key returned home and I introduced her as my girlfriend. How it all went completely sideways because it turns out they know each other. Not only that, they were in love. Engaged. About to have a baby. How I was just the stand-in. A temporary fix for her one true love. I roll my head to look away and blow out a breath through cracked lips.

Why is she here? Why is she clinging to me as though I’m the most precious thing to her?

And Key. I know he’s here. I can feel his anxious presence pacing the halls. For a moment, it feels as though he’s standing just outside the door. I wish he would come in. There’s so much I didn’t know—didn’t understand.

Dusty snores quietly as she nuzzles her chin into me. I adjust the blanket over her and kiss her forehead. She sighs contentedly then continues her rhythmic breathing. There’s a scuffle at the door and I glance up to catch Key slipping out of the room.

“Key,” I whisper.

Nothing.

“Key?” I ask again.

Finally he steps into view, his hair a mess over his forehead and his face a picture of worry. “Oh, hey, you’re awake,” he whispers as he enters the room.

I fight the urge to roll my eyes. I know he’s been lurking around out there. “Yeah.”

“I . . . I didn’t want to interrupt,” he says sheepishly, glancing at Dusty.

“She’s asleep,” I say.

“Not for lack of trying,” he says, taking a step forward. “She hasn’t left your side for over twenty-four hours.”

My brow creases. Have I really been out that long? Looking back at Key, his eyes are glassy and his lip trembles. “Hey, man, you okay?”

“I thought—I thought you were gone,” he whispers. “I thought you were going to leave us and I’d forever know it was my fault.”

“Key, don’t?—”

“I just need to say,” he cuts in, “that I’m sorry. For everything.”

I try to offer a smile. “It’s already forgiven.”

His lips pull at the side and he nods. “Right.” We’re quiet for a long moment, then he takes a deep breath. “She has the songs.”

“What?”

“She kept them,” he admits. “After all this time. She kept my songs.”

My heart sinks. “Oh.”

“It’s great, right?” he asks. “She can testify on our behalf. Logan’s case will be thrown out and everything will go back to normal.”

“Normal,” I whisper. “Right.”

How can it go back to normal? I glance down at Dusty and frown. She kept his songs? Someone she never thought she’d see again and who— wait, what the fuck is this. I lift her left hand into the light and voice the question to my best friend.

Key’s face pales. “It’s—well . . . it’s a ring.”

My stomach ties itself into knots. “You mean it’syourring.”

He treads into the room on uncertain feet, stopping only when he’s at the side of my hospital bed. “We had to. They wouldn’t let anyone who wasn’t immediate family back to see you. It was my idea,” he admits, and I’m pleased to see he looks ashamed. “I told her to wear it. To say she was your wife so they’d let her be by your side.” He gestures around the room. “It clearly worked.”

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