Page 107 of All Tied Down

I don’t know if I can be his friend either.

I damn near ripped Heather’s head off, and she’d been nothing but a brief encounter. How would it be to meet his new girlfriend?

His future wife.

I loathe that there will be someone in Garrett’s life after me—that I’ll have to attend gatherings for Tom and Kat and see him there with his new girl.

“I kept my promise until last night. If this marriage ends, it won’t be because of me.”

Picking up the envelope, I dump the contents onto my desk and frown.

Divorce papers.

Garrett’s wedding band.

A thumb drive.

“I kept my promise until last night.”

Picking it up like it could burn me, I hold it in my palm and stare at it, knowing what it contains but pretending I’m not going to listen to it.

Releasing a shaky breath, I insert the drive and wait for the little box to pop up on my screen. There’s only one file on it.

Surrender.

Without allowing myself to think about it, I double-click on the icon and wish I hadn’t as Garrett’s smoky voice fills the speakers.

The guitar riff is seductive and raw, and I let the tears fall, the anguish in his words speaking to me in a way I can’t begin to comprehend.

She’s diamonds and lace

And a fire that grows

She’ll damn me to hell

That’s just the way that it goes.

Goose bumps cover my skin at the crescendo—the emotion guttural as he sings.

As he pours his heart out for me as much as it is for him.

She’s whiskey and crimson and she’s reaching for me

A life for the life that’s been taken you see

A savior, a queen, a battle cry heard

And all that to say she set fire to my world.

I want to scream and cry and run to him. I want to tell him that we can make this work and that everything that happened in the last twenty-four hours doesn’t matter as long as we’re together.

But I don’t know if I can.

So I sit and restart the song, punishing myself by listening, punishing Garrett by not going to him, and punishing us both for a life we may never have again.

It’s dark outside as a throat clears from the doorway. Exhaling through my nose, I straighten my spine and turn.

Not because I want to.