Page 160

‘Levi has a point. That Italian dude is fuckin’ trash. I bet he timed that shitshow to mess with your head, Deke.’

Levi raised his chin at me.

‘Mate, don’t shut her out; talk to her. Find out what she has to say, get her side of the story.’

I shook my head.

‘I’m not chasing after her ever again. Fool me once, shame’s on her; fool me twice, shame’s fuckin’ all on me and I’m not crawling back to her. The onus is on her to prove the shit didn’t happen,’ I stated, the ice hardening in my chest. ‘Until then, I want nothing to do with her. Fact, I don’t want to see her for a fucking long time, perhaps forever.’

My friends stared at me for a beat as I made the executive decision to shutter my heart for the time being.

‘Deacon,’ Jude murmured, drawing out my name. ‘Don’t do this to her, Raff, and yourself.’

‘Enough! I get what you’ve all had to say,’ I told them, raising a hand to cut off more debate. ‘I’ll consider it, but I can’t talk about Ana for one more moment. Besides, I’m starving. Anyone up for a second brunch?’

With that, I shut down any further discussion, not wanting to think of her again as we finished the national tour.

Two weeks later, I was back in Nashville, stuck in a cloud of anger and hopelessness.

My frustration with Ana burned, but the despair was worse, hating that our hard-won peace and shared passion vanished overnight.

Still hurting and my heart hectic, I refused to meet or talk to Ana, so I set a new boundary and made Christine the middleman.

Our nanny now handled most custody hand-offs.

However, the arrangement was killing all of us, a grinding punishment that even Christine hated.

Raff was pissed that Ana and I stopped speaking.

Christine didn’t appreciate the extra hours even though I was paying her for overtime.

One afternoon, after Christine drove Raff home from Ana’s, he marched into my studio and glared at me.

‘This sucks, and I hate it!’ Raff yelled, his voice crackling with rage. ‘You’re ruining everything!’

He spun and stormed up the stairs to his room, slamming his door so hard the walls rattled.

Christine soon appeared at the door in the wake of Raff’s tantrum, her frustration evident in her crossed arms and sour expression.

‘You’re both acting like clowns,’ Christine said, her eyes flashing. ‘This silent war between you and Ana isn’t healthy for your son, Deacon. Fix your mess.’

I swiveled around to face her, nailing her with a stony glare.

‘How is it that I’m the bad guy here? She freakin’ went behind my back.’

‘Did she, though? I don’t believe it.’

Christine was a true-and-tried Ana fan.

She was also family, which is why she got away with being so honest with me.

We glowered at each other until I got up, jaw set, and marched outside to the terrace to brood for hours.

Still, I hated that I missed her so much my chest ached at night.

I dreaded waking up to her empty side of the bed.

The other day, I opened my wardrobe drawer, which I had forgotten I told her she could use, and discovered her lace underwear and bras.