Page 1 of Edge of Heaven

Prologue

Taryn

Six months ago

“We’re done, Callum.”I throw the last of my toiletries into my carry-on bag and turn to my boyfriend, watching the play of emotions on his face.

He’s not a touchy-feely kind of guy, which is one of many reasons this isn’t working out, but I see something that almost resembles hurt in his eyes.

Geez.

He’s such a jerk ninety percent of the time—why does he have to picknowto show a softer side? I’ve been working up the nerve to leave for weeks.

“You meet someone else?” he asks finally.

I roll my eyes.

“No. When would I have time to meet anyone? You barely give me time to breathe, much less meet other guys.”

He frowns. “I thought you liked spending time with me.”

“I did,” I say, brushing past him so I can slip my shoes on. “But you’ve gotten overbearing, demanding, and if we’re being honest…you’re not nice to me anymore. Why would I stay with a guy who isn’t nice to me?”

He follows me, coming to stand a few inches away. “I’m sorry.”

“I’ve complained before, you’ve apologized before, and things change for a day or two before you go back to how you are. And it’s okay,” I add hurriedly, hoping to keep him from getting mad. Angry Callum is a pain in the ass, and I have a plane to catch, so I don’t want this to get long and drawn out.

“You’re really leaving?”

“I need to see Toby,” I say, pulling my two suitcases to the door. “It’s been too long and he’s starting a new treatment next week.” Toby is my eight-year-old son. He lives with my mother in Los Angeles, and it’s been a month since I’ve seen him, which is too long. Callum kept making excuses about why I couldn’t leave him, but I’m over it.

“That’swhat this is about?” He shakes his head. “So go. Spend time with your kid and then meet me in New York.” His band, Karnal Death, is filming a music video there in a few weeks.

“No.” I say it gently. “I’m sorry. I just… I can’t do it anymore. We’re either fighting or fucking, and while the latter is fun, the former is tiresome. I don’t want to be in a relationship where we fight every single day.”

“You know I’m rough around the edges, baby.” He reaches for me. “But?—”

“Just stop. Please?” I move out of his reach and square my shoulders resolutely. “Last night you literally told me you were going to fuck the model in your next video. What does that tell me about how you feel about me?”

“I didn’t mean it literally. You know how I can get when I’m in a mood.”

“I do. And I don’t like it. That’s part of why I’m leaving.”

“What if you took a few weeks to think about it,” he suggests. “And then I can come to L.A., meet Toby, and we can talk things out?”

“You’ve never wanted to meet him before,” I point out.

“We weren’t serious before.”

“We’re not seriousnow.” I feel a headache coming on and realize Ihaveto leave—he can and will talk me out of this, and I’ve made up my mind this time.

I have to walk away from this pattern of verbal and emotional abuse.

He’s no good for me, and maybe I’m not good for him either.

“You deserve someone who’ll make you happy,” I whisper, leaning up to kiss his cheek. “And I deserve someone who won’t yell at me every day. There are women who are into that—who’ll give as good as they get. That’s just not me. Take care of yourself, Callum.”

Before he can say anything else, I open the door and push my three bags into the hallway. Two large suitcases and my carry-on are going to be impossible to get downstairs alone, but I can’t wait for the bellhop.

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