Page 22 of Tangled in Vows

But no, I won’t give him the satisfaction of even thinking about this, about him. All of these thoughts and feelings will go back into my forget-me box.

Holden’s here for a job and the occasional photo of us together. Other than that, he can go fuck a duck.

I had to promise Nisha I’d lie low until the media calms down and we know exactly how this will play out. Unfortunately, that means Holden and I have been playing our own version of house ever since. Thankfully, most of our interactions involve taking Stormy for walks twice daily. The rest of the time, I hide in my studio or bedroom.

So what if I’m back in my own bedroom because Holden threw away my sheets and mattress to exchange them for new ones? I’m sure Luke would have done the same.

Liar, liar, pants on fire.

Whatever. I did my due diligence and thanked him. Then I tried to erase his kind gesture from my memory immediately.

I can’t have him slip from my enemy-number-one spot.

Maybe it would be better to play nice, considering our situation. But contrary to Nisha’s belief, six months is a long time to pretend to be happily married to the person you thought was your ex-husband. Especially if the reason you’re still married is because he left without a goodbye or so much as an explanation. Not to mention entirely unreachable or untraceable.

When he didn’t come home, and all of my calls went to voicemail, I got so worried. For the first time, I regretted not having anyone else’s number either. Tom thankfully called me a day later. I was so relieved to hear from him that I cried. I thought he’d tell me something terrible had happened to Holden. But no, he called to inform me Holden was all good, but that he had to leave unexpectedly—some family emergency.

Tom also told me not to worry about my rent because that was taken care of. As if my main worry was the rent at that moment and not my best friend who’d apparently just left me without an explanation. Tom was Holden’s friend, and Holdentrusted him, so I had no reason to doubt him. No matter how wrong the disappearance felt. After several weeks of daily online searches without any results for Holden’s name, I finally told myself I had to accept the truth: Holden wasn’t coming back to me, and I was all alone again.

If it wasn’t for my new record deal and all the work that came with it, I’m not sure I would have survived those first few months. But between writing songs, studio time, all kinds of meetings and appearances, shooting social media footage, music videos, and networking, I barely had time to think. Every night I collapsed into bed. I was so exhausted, there was barely any time for my heartache. And since I was used to having no one to talk to, I wrote songs when the pain became too much. That was the only way I knew how to deal with it.

My phone chimes with a message, yanking me out of the past.

Evie: How are you today? Ready for your big photo shoot?

Evie was halfway across the country for a concert when the news broke. After lots of reassurance, she didn’t make the pilot pull their private plane around. But she’s been blowing up my phone all week, keeping me busy with new songs we’re working on together. Since I didn’t want to bitch to her about Holden, I welcomed the distraction.

Me: I’m sure the pics will turn out great, but I’ll be happy once it’s over.

A week ago, I was thrilled to do this urban Manhattan photo shoot with one of my favorite photographers, Seo Joon. Now, I’drather not. But it’s part of the job, and as everyone knows, the show must go on.

Evie: You’ll do great. We’re about to take off. Can’t wait to see you tonight.

Me: Same. I’m in desperate need of some girl time. Have a safe flight. See you soon.

A quiet night with my best friend sounds precisely like what the doctor ordered.

I apply moisturizer and stare at my reflection in the mirror. Puffy eyes and a dull complexion accompany dark circles. My team will have their work cut out for them today. But after this week from hell, I wasn’t expecting much else.

The only saving grace is I managed to stay off social media, although my thoughts have still been spiraling just fine without it. Every time, I keep reminding myself it doesn’t matter what other people think of me. It works for about 1.2 seconds, and then chaos ensues once again.

And I can tell myself only so many lies, especially when it comes to Holden.

Because, of course, it’s totally no biggie that we’re still married. I’m sure at some point, we can have a good laugh about the fact that our divorce papers got lost somewhere in the land of bureaucracy, or whatever the heck happened to them all those years ago.

And yes, I absolutely love having to pretend that he’s my favorite person in the universe in front of the entire world. I mean, what could possibly be bad about that?

With a theatrical groan, I drop my hands away from my face, walk out of the bathroom, and drop face-first onto my bed. Screw my moisturizer.

The comforter swallows my groan, so I do it again. Until I’m half screaming. Damn, that felt good, although my throat hurts now.

“Mmm, Hurricane. You okay over there?”

I don’t even bother raising my head. Naturally, my door would be open for him to witness my breakdown.

Instead of giving him a reply, I lift my thumb.

His chuckle surrounds me, and the mattress dips beside me a moment later.

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