Page 134 of Fractured Frets

“Yep.”

Fuck! They’d done good.

I’d given back Blake’s key chain during the tour. My stash at home was gone. Nothing remained. Perfect. I rested my head against the seat and turned toward Lewis. Curiosity got the better of me. “What did you do with everything?”

“Gave it to Duke. Tia and I didn’t even keep any of it, so don’t go into our room hunting for anything.”

I chuckled. “I’d never do that. I’d be afraid of what I might find.”

He cocked an eyebrow. “You might find something you like.”

“No. I’m good. I hope you found nothing too scary in my room.”

“Oh, we did.” His eyes glinted in the afternoon light. “You kinky fuck.”

Puffing air through my nose, I grinned. “No worse than you.”

“Definitely not.” He pointed at the car door. “Now move it, so I can go get Tia.”

“Thanks for picking me up. It means a lot to me.” I gave him a hug. “I love you. I’ll see you soon.”

I hopped out of the car, grabbed my suitcase out of the trunk, and dragged it inside.

But as I left it at the foot of the staircase, my heart stumbled against my ribs.

Maddy eased off the sofa and took a few tentative steps toward me. Dressed in a floaty yellow dress, she drifted toward me like an angel floating on a cloud.

“Hey,” she whispered.

My throat ran dry. So many emotions pummeled me from all angles and directions—love, hurt, confusion, hope, anger. “What are you doing here?”

“Welcoming you home.” She talked through clenched teeth, like her jaw was wired together.

I grimaced. What was wrong with her mouth? “You shouldn’t be here.” I took a step back. “We’re not married anymore.”

“Yes, we are.”

“Fuck.” I rubbed my brow. “I told you to file the annulment. If you won’t do it, I will.”

She took a small step forward. “I wanted to see you first.”

“Why?” I charged past her over to the kitchen to put more space between us.

“Because I care about you.” She followed me.

“Well, here I am.” I held my hands out wide. “I’m clean. Sober. Now you’ve seen me, you can leave.”

“Slip, please.” She lowered her chin. “Can we just talk?”

“Maddy, I spent half the fucking time in rehab talking about you. Taking responsibility for the crap I’ve done. I’m sorry I couldn’t make you happy. But I’ve come to terms with my mistakes. Owned my part in our failure. I still need therapy and time to get over you. So please don’t make this any harder than it is.”

“I know you’ve gone through a lot.” She headed over to the full-length window that overlooked the back garden and stared out across the yard. “I’ve been the shittiest wife and own my share of our problems. I’ve been going to therapy too, to deal with my trust issues, my insecurities, my health, and oh my God, my mother.” She half-turned her head toward me, lowered her chin, and looked at the ground. “You weren’t the only one who made mistakes. I’m sorry if I ever made you feel like you weren’t enough. You always have been. It just took me too long to realize that.”

I clutched onto the edge of the counter to steady myself, to keep the six feet of distance between us. “Maddy, I have loved you since we met. I just wanted everything between us to be right. I hated being apart. Hated that the drugs got to me. Hated that nothing I said or did made you believe me when I said you were the only woman for me.”

She glanced out the window again. “Do you still feel that way?”

My shoulders slumped. Where was this going? “What do you want, Maddy?”

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