Chapter 31
JUDE
Sofia stared at me with such coldness that I shivered.
Her indifference felt like a blade twisting deep in me.
‘Babe?’
‘I can’t. Please let me go.’
‘No,’ I growled, my hand tightening on her arm, pulling her body flush close to mine. ‘I won’t let you go. You’re my wife. You belong with me, Sofia.’
‘Get off me, Jude,’ she hissed, her eyes flashing. ‘Right now or I’ll scream. I’ll wake this whole damn block up.’
She shoved her palms hard into my chest, putting her entire mass into the strike.
I absorbed the impact, my boots planting into the ground, before I cursed and released her.
I stepped back, chest heaving as her rejection sliced through me.
She stalked past me, threw her cleaning supplies into the passenger footwell of the blue Civic, and slid into the driver’s seat, slamming the door.
Fuck.
Her engine cranked.
Her tires spat loose gravel onto my shins as she revved the motor and drove off into the night.
That’s when I broke, and all hope leaked out of me.
I trudged to the bus stop bench, where I sank onto it.
To add to my misery, the skies above decided to unleash a storm, and soon, rain lashed down on me.
I scarcely acknowledged the driving wind and lightning, consumed by the realization that my words meant nothing to her.
Rain pelted my bare head and soaked through my shirt, icy water dripping.
At some point, the squall reduced to a drizzle.
A flash of white light illuminated the street, followed by a succession of digital shutter clicks.
I turned my heated eyes to them and narrowed my gaze.
A pack of local paparazzi must have tracked me here.
Their camera lenses protruded from the shadows of a parked van.
The circus had found me.
More lens flares captured me haggard, soaked to the bone, and hollowed out.
Emboldened, one of the paps eased from the vehicle and crept closer, thrusting a black microphone toward my face.
‘Yo, Jude! Is this an extreme publicity stunt for the new Six Sinners album? Are you guys making a gritty street promo?’
I stared into the glowing red tally light of the video camera, my soul ripping into ragged pieces.
I leaned in close to the lens.
‘No,’ I gritted. ‘I’m in penance. I refused to believe my woman when she told me the truth and turned my back on her when she needed me most.’
I held up my hand, my ring finger front and center, displaying the band she bought for me.
My voice deepened into a timbred growl.
‘If you’ve a good woman in your life, believe in her, protect her, fuckin’ cherish her. Always trust her, or you’ll end up sitting in the cold like this. Sofia, once again, mi dispiace. I may not be yours, but you’re my heart, and I won’t give up on you, not now, not ever. I love you.’
With that, I dragged myself to my car and drove home.
The video of my haggard, rain-soaked announcement hit the news cycle like a digital missile strike.
The footage got plastered across every morning show broadcast and social media feed from New York to Tokyo.
By noon, the internet was in a frenzy, dissecting my bus stop declaration with ruthless speculation.
Sofia’s name also trended as fans tried to find out who she was.
The band sent me messages with screen grabs and attachments from the press that I viewed and deleted.
I ignored it all, and crashed on the couch in my den, locking out the world.
The front doorbell started buzzing at three in the afternoon, a relentless, infuriating racket echoing through the empty travertine corridors.
I slammed a couch cushion over my head, waiting for whoever was on the porch to give up and beat it.
The ringing didn’t stop.
It just got backed up by a rhythmic fist pounding the thick oak paneling.
Sick of the noise, I dragged myself off the sofa, my joints stiff and aching.
I ripped the door open, ready to tear a strip off whoever was trespassing on my property.
The curse died on my tongue.
Maggie stood on the limestone porch, her hand clamped around the handle of a rolling suitcase, her eyes cutting right through me.
Behind her, Kian stood with his arms crossed, his jaw locked in a grim line.
‘We caught the first flight out of Vermont after your face hit the news last night,’ Maggie declared, her voice tight. ‘When your love confession in the rain went viral.’
She took one look at my sunken cheeks and pursed her lips.
Without waiting for an invite, she shoved past my shoulder into the foyer.
Her eyes swept over the bruised hollows under my bloodshot eyes and the thick, messy beard covering my jaw.
‘Judah, look at you,’ she breathed, reaching for me. ‘You’re wasting away.’
‘I’m fine, Mom,’ I muttered, trying to back out of her reach.
‘Like hell you are,’ she snapped, her protective streak flaring. ‘You smell like you haven’t touched a bar of soap in a week. Move!’
She grabbed my arm, her grip firm as she marched me down the hall and up the stairs to the primary suite, shoving me into my bath.
She walked over to the shower stall, cranking the chrome handles until a thick fog of steam hit the glass enclosure.
‘Strip those dirty rags off and get under the water right now. Don’t test me, Judah. I’ll scrub your skin raw myself.’
I didn’t have the energy to fight her.
She shot me one last warning scowl and shut the door behind her.
I gave in, stripping down and letting the scalding water blast the filth and numbness off my skin.
Ten minutes later, I threw on a clean grey tank top and black gym shorts, then headed downstairs.
I stepped into the kitchen, where an iron skillet sat on the island counter, filled with sizzling steak strips, bell peppers, and garlic rice.
Maggie plated a generous portion and handed me a fork with an unyielding expression that brooked zero nonsense.
‘Eat!’
She glowered at me until I finished the plate.
Maggie sent me back to my room after dinner, where I crashed.
The first real meal I’d had in days, a scalding shower, and the baseline security of having my parents downstairs took the edge off my hypervigilance.
My body finally gave out, dropping me into black, dreamless sleep.
I cracked my grit-filled eyes open hours later, narrowing my gaze on my bedside clock, which glowed through the dark.
It was 9 p.m.
I groaned, dragging myself out of the sheets and into the bathroom to throw cold water on my face.
A few minutes later, I headed downstairs.
I stopped at the living room arch, my gaze falling on Maggie and Kian side by side on the sectional.
They were sharing a bowl of popcorn, laughing at a show on the giant screen.
Their quiet, unbroken closeness slammed me with memories of Sofia and me.
Eating off each other’s plates, trading banter, exchanging looks of longing and desire.
Fuck.
I crossed the rug and dropped into an armchair.
Maggie and Kian traded a look.
‘How are you, son?’ Kian asked, grabbing the remote and killing the sound.
I took an inhale and let it out.
‘I’m drowning.’
‘Talk to us,’ Maggie urged.
‘I want her back, plain and simple,’ I muttered. ‘But she won’t see me. Won’t talk to me. She rejects my help, my money, every single push I make to close the gap. I wrote her two tracks straight from my soul, and she scarcely acknowledged them. This stand-off is tearing me to shreds.’
Maggie set the popcorn bowl on the glass table, leaning forward with her hands on her knees.
‘If she won’t come back, Judah, you have to let her walk. She’s made her call. You can’t strong-arm her or buy her off with cash, songs, or cars. You broke her trust, son. That’s a deep wound.’
Kian nodded.
‘You took the word of a scum blackmailer over hers, Jude. You two were falling, hard and fast for each other. It was obvious every time you looked at her. Yet when the storm hit, you failed to have her six.’
‘So what? I just let her walk?’ I stared at my stepfather, my jaw clenching. ‘I quit?’
‘Yes,’ Kian said, his eyes unwavering. ‘Give her the power to release you.’
‘You’re talking about a divorce?’ My mind went dark at the word. ‘That’s surrendering. That goes against every damn thing I believe.’
‘It sets her free,’ Maggie whispered, as she watched my composure crack. ‘That’s what she needs.’
‘I never planned on loving her,’ I muttered, the truth stripping away the last scrap of my pride. ‘Not like this.’
‘However, if you love her, let her go,’ Kian said, letting the words hang in the room.
The thought was too much to handle.
‘A minute,’ I growled.
I stood, needing space before I snapped.
Pushing through the French doors into the back garden, I lit out, the cold night air biting through my tank as I dropped into an outdoor chair.
I threw my head back, staring up at the Tennessee sky and the sliver of moon cutting through the black.
Images of her hit me in a relentless barrage.
The lushness of her mouth when she laughed, the wildfire in her eyes, the gentle touch of her hands after I took a bullet in the parking garage.
The ache of missing her tore through my chest.
My right hand came up, thumb dragging over the silver eagle pendant and her ring on my collarbone.
In time, a quiet certainty settled in me.
If I wanted to prove I loved her, I had to lay down my weapons, my ego, and my demand to win.
I had to choke down my pride and put the control in her hands.
I’d sign the papers and let her go.