My heart stopped for a second.
Ashley sighed, and when she spoke again, her voice was gentle but firm. “I have no idea, but Luna. You can’t. He cheated on you. And it wasn’t just a one-night thing. He’d been having an entirely separate relationship. With one of your so-called friends.”
I let out a shaky breath. “I know, I know…”
And I did know. No matter how much a part of me craved the comfort of the known, of the familiarity, there was no going back. Because I was starting to believe it wasn’t just the cheating… It was the enormity of his betrayal…and maybe…more? “It’s hard, though, you know?” I glanced around my hotel room, feeling alone. This wasn’t home. But it wasn’t as bad as I’d expected it to be.
“I know, Luna. You spent so long focusing on the show and on him. Maybe you just forgot how to prioritize yourself.”
I stared at the ceiling, trying to formulate some kind of response that wasn’t “ugh, you’re right,” when Ashley threw out?—
“If you do end up having a fling with this guy, be careful. You know?”
I snapped upright. “Nothing’s going to happen. We’re just friends.”
Ashley’s silence was loud.
I hated that my sister was worried about me. And I hated even more that she had reason to be.
“Okay, then.” Ashley’s tone softened. “I just want you to be happy, Luna.”
Before I could respond, Blakey’s excited voice chirped in the background, and I heard a childish screech of laughter.
“Sorry, the twins have a friend over tonight. So, I need to—Put that down! You’ve both had more than enough junk food. Hey, I gotta go. Just…if you do…you know…don’t go all in, okay? And…have fun.”
“Fine.”
“And don’t let Leo get to you.”
Oh my God! “Goodbye, Ashley,” I said.
“Hugs!” And then the line went dead.
I let my phone drop onto the bed, exhaling sharply.
Then, reluctantly, I flicked my gaze to the still-unread voicemail on my screen.
One message. I could ignore it.
I could delete it.
That was probably what I should do, honestly.
But instead, I just sat there, staring at it like it could detonate any second.
And then, against my better judgment, I pressed play.
“Hey, Lunatic, babe.”
The nickname curdled in my stomach.
“What are you doing in Denver? If you needed a vacation, I would’ve taken you.”
What on earth?
He would have taken me? The last time we spoke, he was stuffing his two-thirds of our closet into a moving truck, more concerned about ruining his uniforms than the end of our relationship.
And that had been…the end.
