Page 21 of Rockstar's Accidental Marriage

“Isn’t it?” she shoots back. “You’ve spent the last year calling me nicknames and cracking jokes. And now, suddenly, you want to play house? Forgive me if I don’t believe you.”

I take a step back, my chest tightening. “You really think that little of me?”

“I agree that we’re too different,” she says, her voice quieter now but no less cutting. “You thrive on pranks and chaos, Sam. And I—I don’t.” She looks down. “I don’t want to live like that. I won’t.”

The finality in her tone sends a chill down my spine. “So, what? You just want to give up? Call it quits?”

“Yes,” she says, the word heavy with finality. “We should get a divorce. This—whatever this is, it’s never going to work.”

Her words hang in the air, heavy and ominous, each one landing like a blow. For a moment, I can’t breathe. I can’t think.

Divorce.

It’s the logical choice, the clean break we’ve both been subconsciously avoiding. But the thought of it—of her walking away, of her believing our marriage was nothing but a drunken mistake, a fleeting whim, makes something inside me rebel.

But maybe she’s right.

“Fine,” I say finally, my voice tight. “If that’s what you want.”

“It is,” she says, but her voice wavers just enough to make me wonder if she means it.

We stand there in silence, the tension between us crackling like a live wire.

And then, without another word, she turns and walks out of the office, leaving me alone.

She’s made her feelings clear. She wants out.

But as much as I try to convince myself that letting her go is the right thing to do, the thought of it makes my chest ache.

She was right—I’ve spent the last year treating our marriage like a joke. What made me think she’d suddenly see it as anything else?

But then I think about the way she kissed me back, how she responded to my touch. There was something there—something real.

I just don’t know if it’s enough. But what I do know is that I’m not ready for this to be over. Not yet.

Standing, I make a decision. I’m not giving up without a fight.

Seven

Emily

There’s something almost eerie about how quiet the tour bus feels lately. Not in the literal sense—Luke is still constantly hungry, Nate keeps drumming on every surface he can find, and Vince hums under his breath as he tweaks new keyboard arrangements. But there’s a tension hanging in the air, thick and stifling.

It’s because of me.

No one says it outright, but I know they’ve noticed the change between me and Sam. I hear it in the way their laughter dies when one of us walks into a room. I feel it in the way their eyes dart between us like they’re bracing for an explosion.

The tension between us is different now. Before, it was all sharp edges and antagonism, but now it's charged with something else. Something that makes my skin prickle whenever he's near that makes me hyper-aware of his every movement. Even when we're deliberately not looking at each other, I can feel his presence like a physical thing, drawing me in despite my best efforts to resist.

The truth is, I’m not even sure myself what’s happening between us. Ever since that day in the office—those scorching kisses—We’ve been avoiding each other. And when we’re forced to be together, we’re both polite. Professional. Friendly, even.

It’s exhausting.

I watch Sam from across the bus—trying to be subtle about it. He's sprawled in his usual seat, those talented fingers moving over his guitar strings with practiced ease, but there’s a sharpness to his playing—it’s raw and edgy. His shirt pulls tight across his shoulders as he shifts, and I force myself to look away, remembering all too well how those muscles felt under my hands. The memory of our kiss on the desk flashes through my mind—his taste, his heat, the way his body pressed against mine—and I have to cross my legs to quell the rush of desire.

He hasn’t looked at me once today. Not directly, anyway.

"Hey, Boss Lady," Luke says, breaking into my thoughts. His knowing smirk makes me wonder if everyone can see how flustered I get whenever Sam's nearby. Can they tell how my breath catches when Sam stretches and his shirt rides up, revealing a strip of tanned skin?

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