She pushed away from the mirror and paced the room, bare feet whispering across the carpet.The anger felt better than the tears.It steadied her.
Her phone buzzed on the nightstand.She froze when she saw his name.
Jami.
Her heart gave a painful lurch, and for a moment she almost reached for it.She wanted to hear his voice, to believe the comfort she felt with him wasn’t just another illusion.But she knew better.
She let it ring.
When it stopped, the silence settled heavier than before.
Carlene walked to the window and drew the curtains aside.The world outside was bright and sparkly, the sun reflecting through the window and across the field, wavering lines.A couple walked along the street, holding hands, their laughter faint but clear.
She wrapped her arms around herself and stared out at the scene.She’d never been good at this part, letting anyone close.It always ended the same way.Someone left.Someone disappointed her.Someone proved that love was a distraction she couldn’t afford.
She thought she’d buried that part of herself for good.
But today, standing in the sliver of sun streaming through her window, she couldn’t deny what Jami Hart had done to her.His voice still echoed in her head, rough and sincere, the way he’d said she didn’t deserve to take the hit.The way he’d looked at her like she was more than the hired PR firm.
Her pulse quickened just thinking about it.
She pressed her forehead against the warm glass and whispered, “Enough.”
The word felt thin and fragile.She said it again, firmer this time.“Enough.”
Tomorrow she’d wake up and rebuild her armor.She’d meet with Tony and the label, polish the next phase of the campaign, and pretend the last few days hadn’t cracked her open.
She would go back to being the woman who fixed everything.
But right now, she let herself feel the full weight of what she had been holding back.The longing.The exhaustion.The quiet heartbreak of knowing she wanted something she couldn’t have.
When she finally crawled into bed, she didn’t bother undressing.She lay there staring at the ceiling until her vision blurred.The pillow beneath her head was damp from tears that continued to track down her temples, and her phone glowed faintly on the nightstand.
She didn’t reach for it.
Sleep came slowly, unevenly, and restlessly.But for the first time in years, she allowed herself to feel broken.And though it hurt, a small, defiant part of her hoped that maybe, just maybe, feeling something that real again meant she was still alive.
ChapterSeventeen
Jami showed up at the barn before sunrise.The air was cool, heavy with salt and the faint scent of pine drifting in from the bluff.It should have calmed him, but it didn’t.His mind was a loop of questions he couldn’t answer and one face he couldn’t shake.
Carlene.
She’d left yesterday, holding herself together by a thread.He’d seen it in her eyes before she turned away, that careful restraint that told him she was barely hanging on.He’d wanted to go after her, but she needed space, and he respected that more than he wanted to.
Now, staring across the empty barn, he wished he’d said something before she left.Something that wasn’t about the label or the press.Something real.
He poured coffee from the pot and leaned against the bar.His phone buzzed with another update from the label’s PR team.Every headline looked the same: Carlene’s name, his name, the words damage control.
He scrolled until he couldn’t stand it anymore, tossed the phone on the bar, and grabbed his guitar instead.The strings felt cool under his fingers.He started playing the riff that had been haunting him for days, soft and slow, letting the rhythm settle the chaos in his head.
By the time the others arrived, the sun had broken over the bluff.Tony came in first, followed by Bret from the label.Both carried that look he’d come to know too well, cautious optimism.
“Morning,” Tony said.“Carlene texted.She’s on her way.”
Jami nodded and set the guitar aside.“Is she holding up?”
Tony hesitated.“You know Carlene.She’ll walk into a fire if that’s what it takes to get the job done.”
