“Wish it were.” He grabbed two more beers from the fridge, handing one to Jamie before continuing, “We started dating, and at first everything was good. Then the mood swings hit out of nowhere. She’d blame it on that time of the month, but hell, it felt like every damn week. The smallest thing would set her off, and the next thing I knew she was throwing things. Heavy things.” He let out a dry chuckle, shaking his head. “Good thing my reflexes are fast or I’d have taken a vase to the skull. Guess I didn’t realize how bad it was. That first year I was gone a lot, playing ball. But once my arm got fucked”—he lifted his elbow—“and I couldn’t play, the outbursts turned into a daily thing.”
“Jesus,” she said, shaking her head.
“There’s more.” He exhaled hard. “When I couldn’t play ball I figured I’d give music a shot. But hell, she didn’t want to be with no damn singer. Kept pushing me to try out for some farm team, but they didn’t want me either. That’s how bad it was.”
He took a long swig of his beer, shaking his head. “So I started playing anywhere they’d have me—open mics, fairs, honky-tonks, you name it. And that’s when things got ugly.”
“Ugly?” she asked, drawing her eyebrows inward.
“Embarrassing, to say the least.” He nodded, his jaw tight. “She’d drink too much and take swings at me. Most times I’d stop her, but for someone so little she packed one hell of a punch.” He rubbed his cheek like he could still feel it. “Then I met Shorty and got myself a record deal. My career was finally taking off, but she couldn’t stand it. Tried every damn thing she could to wreck it.”
“Why didn’t you leave?” Jamie’s voice was barely a whisper, but the weight of her words hung heavy between them.
She hadn’t expected the quiet, resigned way he looked at her. Her heart ached for Clayton in a way she never saw coming.
“Guess I was scared. Scared of what she’d do if I left. But I was on the road so much, I didn’t see her all that often. Funny how you start forgetting how bad things are when you miss somebody.” He paused for a moment. “Don’t get me wrong, she had her sweet moments, but they never lasted long.”
He took a deep breath, shaking his head. “The night I met Derrick at Tootsie’s—that was it. I was going to end it the next day. Then she found out she was pregnant. And I couldn’t walk away after that. Hell, she wanted to end it, but I begged her not to. So I did what I thought was right—I married her.”
He paused, rolling his beer bottle between his hands. “She handled the pregnancy better than I figured. Didn’t even freak out when we found out it was twins. But the second those girls were born something in her snapped. No, worse. She came apart at the seams.” His voice turned hollow. “Tantrums every day. Crying nonstop. But the worst part? She didn’t want nothing to do with them. Wouldn’t hold them, wouldn’t feed them, wouldn’t even look at them. Like being a momma was the last thing she ever wanted.”
He swallowed hard. “And me? I was too damn busy trying to hold everything together to see it coming.”
He let out a heavy sigh. “Was pretty much like that until the day she left.”
Jamie rested her hands on her head, exhaling slowly. “I can’t say I blame you for looking elsewhere. That must’ve been a lonely marriage.”
He raised an eyebrow and pulled another beer from the fridge. “That’s the thing, Jamie. I never cheated on her. Not once. She’s the one that ran around—slept with her damn guitar tech. Had been for years, far as I know.” He let out a slow breath and shook his head. “Guess I was the last to figure it out.”
Jamie stared at him. “What? Why didn’t you say anything? You’ve obviously heard the rumors.”
He popped the cap off his beer, took a sip, and leaned back in his chair. “For my kids. Wasn’t about to drag her through the mud, no matter what she did. It’s bad enough they got a momma like that—I wasn’t going to make it worse.” His gaze flicked to hers, steady. “So yeah, I took the heat. And I don’t regret it.”
Jamie was stunned, speechless. She hated Tammy for what she’d done to him—more than she expected, more than she should. The thought unsettled her almost as much as the way Clayton wouldn’t meet her eyes.
“I’m sorry, Clayton.”
“Me, too.”
“You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”
“Tammy wouldn’t let me take you on tour. We got into it real bad that night—she clocked me right upside the head.”
“Oh my God! Derrick told me it was because you hated him.”
“Had nothing to do with him.”
“Derrick thinks everything’s about him.”
Clayton huffed a laugh. “Speaking of Derrick, you never answered my question. How are you holding up?”
Jamie hesitated. “I’m okay.”
“Just okay?”
She shrugged as he passed her another beer. “I don’t really miss him.”
His brow lifted. “There must’ve been something you liked about him.”
