Page 11 of Buck ’Em Cowgirl

Turning away, I forced myself to keep moving, my chest tightening with every step. By the time I exited the hallway, I realized I hadn’t been breathing. I exhaled shakily, clutching the strap of my bag and wondering why I’d even bothered coming back here in the first place.

I knew. Deep down, in the pit of my stomach and the ache in my chest, I knew. I didn’t need words to confirm it because the way he acted, the way he looked at me, said everything I needed to hear. Somehow, without saying it outright, he’d confirmed what I’d been avoiding.

I swallowed the lump in my throat as I leaned against the cool brick wall of the building.

The announcer’s voice boomed through the speakers. “And now, ladies and gentlemen, please welcome this evening’s entertainment, local country music star, Mike Pilsen.”

The crowd erupted in cheers as Mike burst through the doors, his energy high, his smile bright. He soaked in the adoration as he jogged toward the stage.

I pressed my back harder against the wall, my arms wrapped tightly around myself, as if holding my body together would somehow keep the cracks from showing. He was shining under those lights, basking in the attention, while I melted into the cold, shadowed wall behind me. With Mike, I was always melting. Always fading. Even when I needed him the most, when I was broken, he stayed whole and untouched.

The door swung open again, and Trishelle stepped out, her lipstick smeared at the corner of her mouth. She clapped along to his music, not bothering to glance my way.

What I couldn’t understand was why he wanted me. Why live with me? Why ask me to marry him if this was the life he wanted—this stage, this crowd, this freedom I could never offer him? I wasn’t part of this world, and no amount of pretending would ever make it mine.

The only thing that brought me any solace was the reality unfolding in front of me. Half the arena had already cleared out, their seats glaringly empty against the lights. Those who stayed weren’t even paying attention. Conversations hummed over his music, people milling around like his performance was background noise. What he thought was his shining moment was crumbling.

I stayed pressed against the wall, watching it all unfold. The polite applause, the scattered cheers, the indifference of a half-empty arena. Maybe it wasn’t the kind of justice I’d imagined, but it was something.

He finished his song, and sweat dripped down his face as he came down the stairs. I smiled brightly, forcing myself to shake off the weirdness of earlier, ready to congratulate him despite the half-empty arena.

Before I could say anything, he was yelling.

“Fuck these people,” he shouted, his voice echoing through the backstage area. “Fuck this whole scene.”

I froze as he turned and locked eyes with me.

His chest was heaving, and he pointed to me. “This is your fault,” he growled. “You were the one who set this up.”

He didn’t wait for a response. He stormed back through the doors, leaving me stunned in his wake. Trishelle followed him without hesitation, not even sparing me a glance as she disappeared behind him.

My fault?

Harleigh came down the stairs moments later, her boots thudding against the metal. She stopped when she saw me, her brow furrowed in confusion.

“What the fuck?”

“I have no idea.”

Her expression softened as she crossed the backstage area, pulling me into a hug.

“I’m pissed,” I admitted quietly.

“You should be.”

“What do I do?” I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.

She pulled back and pointed toward the hallway. “Go in there and tell him to fuck off. Seriously.”

I hesitated, staring at the door he had disappeared through. Her words made sense, but I couldn’t bring myself to move.

I wasn’t worthy of being loved. Not by him, not by anyone. Mike had reminded me of that enough times to make it sink deep into my bones. I wasn’t even a woman anymore—not the kind of woman who could stand up for herself, who could demand better. I was broken and hollow.

I looked down at my hands, and Harleigh whipped a hand sanitizer from her back pocket and sprayed them without question.

“You came here. You set this up. You gave him an opportunity of a damn lifetime, and this is how he repays you?”

“He’s hooking up with Trishelle.” I sighed as the words came out, and she nodded, as if she knew all along.