Page 68 of Not Mine to Keep

I slowly walked in, finding a sleek black modern desk in front of one window, my notebook and pen from my bedroom back home sitting on top of it. The pages were blank. Writer’s block and all, but maybe I’d write again?

My keyboard and guitar were there as promised. But there was another guitar case I didn’t recognize, leaning against the wall by the door.

I set it down and knelt alongside it, and I was pretty sure the blood drained from my face at what was inside.

After a few deep breaths that did nothing to appease my nerves, I rushed out to find Alessandro before he left.

Breezing past various rooms, I ran to a spiral staircase at the back end of the hall, remembering he’d said he had to make a few calls, and I was pretty sure we’d passed an office on our way up to the primary bedroom.

The office door was cracked open, and I could hear him talking. I wasn’t a fan of eavesdropping, so I went inside, where he was sitting behind a modern desk much bigger than the one in the music room with his cell to his ear. His eyes now locked with mine.

“I’m going to have to call you back.” He frowned, ended the call, and sat back in his leather chair while waiting for me to explain my interruption.

I fiddled with the wedding band as I slowly approached the desk, feeling like I was about to face off with a stranger, not a man who’d had me moaning his name while climaxing last night. “How’d you get that guitar? Someone else won it at the auction. Definitely not you. I remember. And for that matter, what’d you do with the two things you did win?”

“I made a call. Found out who won it and asked them for it,” he said casually, steepling his fingers against his lips. “Donated the items I won to charity.”

Of course you did. It’s so hard to hate you.“So you just asked for The Legend’s guitar, and they gave it to you?” I tried to chase away the chills on my arms with my palms, but touching my skin only seemed to provoke more goose bumps, especially beneath his gaze. “And what, they hand-delivered it while we were on our flight back here?”

“Your sarcasm doesn’t change facts. It is what it is. Money. It buys things. In this case, the thing you wanted,” he said bluntly. “It’s a wedding gift. I thought you’d like it, and since you have to live here when you don’t want to, I—”

“Damn you, Alessandro Costa.” Were there tears in my eyes? At the sight, he lowered his arms and stood, setting his hands on his desk as I cried out, “I hate you.” I hastily swiped at the traitorous drop of liquid that’d escaped. “I hate that you’d do something so freaking crazy for me, because it makes it hard to actually hate you.”

His eyes narrowed, jaw locking tight. “You’re confusing.”

Ditto. So much ditto it hurts.

“I can’t accept it.” I brushed away another stray tear. “Donate it, too. Please, have it taken away.”

“I don’t understand. It’s just a guitar.” He lifted his hands from the desk, tearing one through his hair, which fell perfectly back into place.

“You don’t understand what that woman’s music means to me. Her songs got me through so much in my life. And to have her guitar is everything to me.” I was going to ugly-cry. Break down.

Armani hadn’t broken me, but Alessandro buying a guitar seemed to be the straw that broke the camel’s back.

“Then you should have it. I truly don’t understand.” He started for me, and I shot my palms up as a plea to keep his distance.

“Maybe money can buy happiness, after all, since you could buy the guitar. But money can’t buy me,” I cried, cupping my mouth before I sobbed. That was the last thing I wanted to do in front of him. “Please, take it back.” I turned, knowing I was on the brink of losing it.

“Calliope!” he called out, and I froze in front of the doorway and slammed both hands on the frame, preparing to bolt so I could cry in private.

“What?” I whispered.

“I’m sorry. I was just trying to do something nice.” The teddy bear. There he was. That side of him would destroy my heart. Pulverize it into nothing.

“Itwasnice.” My shoulders broke forward. “Too nice. Not even remotelycordial. And that’s the problem,” I murmured before taking off, not wanting to give him a chance to stop me.

Once back upstairs and in our room, I went over to the bed and snatched my new phone from where I’d left it, wishing I could talk to my aunt. To cry on her shoulder about the mess I was in, but I had no one to talk to about this. Not in my very small circle of friends, either.

I blinked back tears, then startled at the message that popped up from Alessandro.

Alessandro:I’m really fucking sorry. I didn’t realize ...

Alessandro:I’ll get rid of it.

Alessandro:I don’t know how to do this. It’s been a long time since I’ve done this.

I reread his last message a few times, trying to understand it.

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