“Kelly,” she said, the second her sister picked up, breathless and giddy, “you are not gunna believe what just happened.”
Kelly laughed. “Oh, I think I might. He called me.”
“Shut up! You knew?!”
“Of course I knew. He asked if I’d go with you. I didn’t think he’d actually pull it off though!”
Kylee paced the living room barefoot, hand pressed over her heart. “Front row, backstage passes, The Ritz-Carlton,Kelly. It doesn’t even feel real.”
“You deserve every second of it,” Kelly said warmly. “You’ve needed something like this for a long time.”
“I know,” Kylee whispered, eyes misting again. “It just… it means so much. And seeing you again. Just us. Like we used to be.”
Kelly chuckled. “Oh, girl, we’re getting drunk and screaming every word of those songs. Prepare your vocal cords!”
Kylee laughed through a lump in her throat, wiping a tear off her cheek. “God, I’ve missed you.”
“I’ve missed you too,” Kelly said softly. “I’ll see you in two weeks. Get ready, babe. It’s gunna be the time of our lives.”
Kylee ended the call and held the phone to her chest for a long moment, smiling to herself in the quiet.Behind her, she heard the creak of the stairs Jake heading to bed without a word.
She stayed in the living room a while longer, alone with the soft buzz of anticipation in her chest. For the first time in a long time, she had something to look forward to.
Not something tied to him.
Not to the kids.
Just her.
Chapter 4
Bleeding Halos, Beignets, & Bad Decisions
One day. That’s all the time Kylee had left before she boarded the plane to New Orleans, the city of jazz, mystery, and memories she hadn’t dared revisit until now.
Standing in front of her bedroom mirror, she smoothed the fabric of a silky black dress she’d pulled from her closet. It was beautiful, but she wanted something fresh, something electric, and something that screamed new Kylee.
With a deep breath, she grabbed her phone and called Kelly. The sound of her sister’s familiar, upbeat voice filled her with warmth and a little daring. “I’m going shopping tomorrow,” Kylee said, trying to keep the excitement out of her voice. “I need something that’ll make me forget everything else for a while.”
Kelly laughed. “Girl, you deserve to feel like a queen. Hit the boutiques and find you a look that turns heads. Maybe even Rio Riot won’t be able to take his eyes off you.”
Kylee smiled, biting her lip. The thought sent a shiver down her spine.
The next day, she wandered through sunlit stores and buzzing malls, the hum of the city fading behind the music playing in her headphones, rock ballads and old New Orleans jazz mixing in her ears. She ran her fingers over soft fabrics: lace, velvet, leather, silk. She tried on a deep crimson dress that hugged her curves perfectly, a daring neckline daring enough to catch a spotlight.
In the dressing room, Kylee studied herself, imagining the concert, the roar of the crowd, the pulse of the bass, and the intensity of Rio Riot’s gaze meeting hers.
One day felt like both a lifetime and a heartbeat away. As Kylee packed her bags, a storm of emotions churned inside her. Excitement pulsed through her veins the thought of New Orleans, the music, and most of all, Rio Riot’s electric presence.
But beneath the thrill was a heavier weight: guilt, anger, and a hollow ache every time her mind drifted to Jake. She loved the life they’d built the kids, the home, the memories. But somewhere along the way, that love had twisted into something unrecognizable. She wasn’t sure if it was denial, fear, or sheer exhaustion that had kept her silent about Jake and Rachel. Yet now, with the trip looming, the tension was unbearable.
Unable to shake the gnawing suspicion, Kylee found herself driving to Jake’s clinic. She hadn’t told him she was coming. Lillian was already watching the girls, and Kylee had rehearsed what she needed to say over and over in her head.
The office buzzed with its usual rhythm, but her eyes immediately locked on Rachel, who was perched behind the reception desk, dressed in that sleek black dress Kylee knew too well.
Taking a deep breath, Kylee approached with a cold resolve.
“Rachel,” she said, voice low but fierce. “I’m leaving for New Orleans. And I want you to know if you’re fucking my husband while I’m gone, I will make sure you regret it.”
