Page 105 of Heartbreaker

I don’t knowwhat’s going on with Royal, but seeing his ex-wife impacted him a lot more than I thought it would. It probably has more to do with her dating his replacement—and the fact that no one told him he’dbeenreplaced—but I’m not sure what he’s feeling because he’s been sullen and withdrawn for two days.

We’d finally found our groove as a couple, and this is a setback I hadn't anticipated.

And I can’t tell what bothered him more—the sex tape or Amber.

I just…I don’t think it’s the tape.

He was all about comforting me, on board with the plan that Kate and Madeline came up with until…Amber.

I sigh because I truly don’t know if what’s eating at him is that Amber is marrying the guy who’s replacing him, that she’s pregnant, or that she mocked him for being with a country bumpkin like me.

All of the above, I guess.

Because the whole situation seems to be causing him to spiral in a way I don’t understand. I haven’t seen this side of him before.

The worst part is that I don’t know how to pull him out of the darkness that seems to be engulfing him.

The tape threw him for a loop. Seeing Amber another. Learning that she’s pregnant one more. And finding out that he’s no longer a member of Midnight Sun? About a million loops—enough to makemespend far too much time in my head.

So, it’s understandable he’d withdraw—especially considering he’s not good at emotions.

But…is it really all of that?

Or is it something more?

Something about losing Amber?

No. I don’t think he still loves her. Rather, she hurt him in a way only someone you’ve been completely intimate with can.

And I hate her for it.

She had no business—noright—to say the things she said. I don’t even care much about what she said about me. People have said worse. Heck, theyaresaying worse. About the sex tape, about my music, about me scraping the bottom of the barrel by dating a washed-up recluse like Royal.

I can’t care less about that.

But her pushing him back to the darkness I’ve worked so hard to bring him out of?

I’ll never forgive her for that.

We haven’t worked on our music since that night at the Sapphire Room, and when I mention it, he gets defensive.

Like now.

We’ve just finished breakfast, and I’m putting the dishes in the dishwasher while he sits at the island, ignoring me.

He’s definitely not himself.

“Do you want to go to the studio today?” I ask lightly. “We have the time booked—it shouldn’t go to waste.”

“Not in the mood,” he mutters.

“Babe, the album is almost done. I thought you were excited.”

He doesn’t respond, and my patience is starting to wear thin.

I’mtrying.

I’ve been supportive and sweet and thoughtful.

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