Page 37 of Beautiful Storm

“Preston.”

Tears well in his eyes, and my guilt sets in as a memory rears its ugly head.You don’t need to worry, Preston, because I’llalways be here to help you.I was so young and so naive when I said the words. But I said them.

“One idea.” I finally break, hoping I don’t live to regret it. “Tell me one song you want to pitch and I’ll send you the idea I have for it.” I had ideas for all his songs. I loved all his songs, until he started changing them when he was first signed to an indie label. He started changing them. Him. The indie label loved his early stuff. I get that a bigger label might want to control things, but he should have thought about that before breaking his indie contract.

Preston’s eyes widen and a small smile pulls at his lips. Relief fills me until he opens his mouth. “What about three?”

Goddammit. Why can’t this be easy? “One is myonlyoffer.”

“Amelia, you left me. I helped support you financially when you were studying. I was barely making ends meet, but I helped you.”

“Did you love me?”

“What?”

“Did you ever actually love me?”

“Of course I did. I still love you. You’re the one that left. What kind of a question is that? I wrote love songs about you.”

Ugh. I know. But still… “One or nothing.”

“Fuuuck. Fine. One. As soon as you send me the notes for ‘Wicked Style,’ I’ll sign the papers.”

Damn, he had to go and pick my best idea. An idea I could have used for a short film. “Sign the papers now and I’ll send you my notes as soon as I get home.”

Preston’s teeth clench but he smiles. “Okay. Hand them over.”

“I don’t have them. You were served.”

“Oh, right. I knew that.”

He gets up and grabs an envelope from the desk across the room, and as he signs, I feel nothing. No regret but no relief either. I’m empty. And he did that. He made me feel that way.But at least now, I can try to move on. Hell, I can date if I want to. Not that I couldn’t before, but it felt wrong.

Preston huffs when he’s done, and when he hands over the paperwork—despite being the one that should be submitting them—I slide the documents into the envelope and seal it up, metaphorically closing the door on a huge part of my life. The package feels heavy in my hands, but I’m glad that it’s done. I had to get them signed so I could feel whole again. Only, I don’t feel any differently than before.

After a few parting words and the promise to send him my notes, Preston awkwardly hugs me goodbye, as if we ended on a good note. Then I leave.

It’s done.

I’m divorced. Sort of. At least, I will be once I’ve filed the papers.

The emptiness remains as I walk to my car, but once inside, the reality of everything hits me at once and I shake uncontrollably, my mind whirring.

It’s over. I finally get to start fresh.

But how do I even do that?

CHAPTER ELEVEN

Amelia

How quick can one get a divorce processed? Because now that I have the signed papers, I’m willing to pay a ridiculous amount for a lawyer to get this done without issue. I need to be free because life just threw me another curveball.

Game two of Storm’s pre-season ends with another win, and while the players go off to celebrate, I head back to my office to make notes. We weren’t required at the game, but I wanted to get a sense of a game day for the players. I’ve experienced it from the sidelines, but never behind the scenes. And God, was it interesting, witnessing the way they get into the zone.

I’ve just sat down to type up my ideas when I realize I must have left my notebook in the locker room.Of all the places.Usually, I make notes directly onto my tablet. But when I’maround the guys indifferent levels of undress, I’m uncomfortable using a device. It’s their private space and we’re about to intrude on it with cameras. I don’t want them to think I’m getting footage before I’m supposed to.

I check the time and make my way back to the rooms. I should be safe going in now because the guys would have left a while ago. But still, I don’t take my chances, calling out as I enter.

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