19. Boone
BOONE
Emily's car pulled up the drive.
I stood at the window in the studio and watched my sister park beside the walkway. I'd been standing there for probably an hour. Maybe longer. I didn't know anymore. Time didn't seem to work the way it used to.
Carly had asked for a divorce yesterday, and I still couldn't make sense of it. I'd replayed every word she'd said. Every look on her face when she'd seen the broken heel on the driveway. Every second when I'd tried to ask her to forgive me and she'd just stared at me like I was a stranger.
I'd thought I could fix it. God, I was such an idiot.
Emily got out of the car and looked up at the house. She didn't hesitate. She walked straight to the front door like she was bringing news she couldn't wait to deliver.
I met her in the front hall before she could knock.
"Boone." She pushed past me into the house. "We need to talk."
"Yeah." I closed the door. "What's going on?"
She turned and looked at me, and I realized she was furious. Her hands were in fists at her sides. Her jaw was tight. I'd seen Emily mad before, but never like this.
"Savannah told Carly there was an affair in Atlanta and a pregnancy," she said.
The words hung in the air between us like smoke. I felt them land in my chest and settle there, heavy and wrong.
"What?"
"Savannah told your wife—" Emily's voice shook. "She told Carly you got her pregnant in Atlanta. She said it to her face."
My stomach dropped. "That's not true."
"I know it's not true." Emily stepped closer. "But Carly doesn't. Savannah fed her that lie, and now your wife thinks you've been screwing around on her for God knows how long."
I couldn't breathe. The air in the house felt too thin, like it had been sucked out and replaced with something I couldn't use. My hands were shaking. I looked down and saw them trembling against my sides like they belonged to someone else.
"When?" I asked.
"Yesterday. Before she came here."
So Carly had already heard it when she'd asked me if Savannah was at the house. She'd already believed I'd betrayed her, and I hadn't even known what she was talking about. I'd just stood there and failed to deny it because I didn't know there was anything to deny.
Jesus Christ.
"I'm going to kill her," I said.
Emily didn't tell me not to. She just nodded.
I pulled out my phone and called Savannah first. She picked up on the second ring, her voice bright and cheerful like nothing in the world was wrong.
"Boone, hi?—"
"Get to the house. Now."
I hung up before she could answer. Then I scrolled to my mother's number and hit call. She answered on the third ring.
"Boone, I'm in the middle of?—"
"I don't care. Come to the house."
"This isn't a good time."
"Diane." Her name came out like a threat. "Get here now, or I swear to God I'll come find you myself."
There was a pause. Then she said, "Fine," and the line went dead.
I shoved the phone back in my pocket and looked at Emily. She was watching me with something that looked like relief, like she'd been waiting for me to wake up and see what was right in front of me.
"You should've told me sooner," I said.
"I'm telling you now."
She wasn't wrong. I wanted to be angry at her for waiting, but she was here, and that was more than I could say for anyone else in my family.
The minutes dragged while we waited. I paced the front hall. My pulse hammered in my throat. I kept thinking about Carly's face when she'd asked if Savannah had been at the house. The way she'd looked at me like I was someone she didn't recognize anymore.
I'd lost her. I knew that now. And I hadn't even understood why until Emily walked through the door.
Savannah arrived first. She knocked on the door, light and polite, like she was visiting for tea. I opened it and stepped back without saying a word. She walked in and smiled at me, and I wanted to throw her out on the driveway.
"What's going on?" she asked. "You sounded upset."
I didn't answer. I just walked into the sitting room off the hall and waited. Emily followed me in and stood by the fireplace. Savannah came in after her, looking between us like she was trying to figure out what she'd walked into.
My mother showed up ten minutes later. She didn't knock.
She just let herself in with the key she still had from when this place had been my father's investment property and she'd been the one managing it.
I heard her heels on the tile in the hallway, sharp and deliberate, and then she was standing in the doorway to the sitting room with her purse tucked under one arm.
"This better be important," she said.
"It is." I looked at Savannah, then back at my mother. "Sit down."
Diane's mouth thinned, but she sat in the chair by the window. Savannah perched on the edge of the sofa, her hands folded in her lap. Emily stayed where she was, arms crossed, watching both of them like she was waiting for one of them to make a run for it.
I stood in the center of the room and looked at Savannah.
"Tell me what you said to my wife."
Her eyes widened. She opened her mouth, then closed it again. I watched her face shift, the surprise melting into something that looked like concern but felt like calculation.
"Boone, I don't know what you mean."
"You told Carly I got you pregnant in Atlanta."
"I didn't?—"
"Don't lie to me." My voice came out harder than I'd meant it to, and Savannah flinched. Good. "You told her there was an affair. You told her you were pregnant. You looked my wife in the eye and fed her a story you knew wasn't true."
Savannah's face went pale. She looked at Diane, and that was when I knew.
"You knew," I said to my mother.
Diane didn't even blink. "I don't know what you're talking about."
"You're in on this." The anger in my chest spread like fire, hot and wild and impossible to contain. "The two of you worked together to push Carly out."
"That's ridiculous," Diane said. "I've never?—"
"Don't." I pointed at her, and she stopped talking. "I've spent ten years listening to you tear my wife down. I've let you make her feel like she didn't belong in this family because I thought you'd come around eventually. I thought if I just gave you time, you'd see what I saw in her."
Diane's expression didn't change, but something shifted in her eyes. A flicker of something I couldn't name.
"But you didn't want to see it," I said. "You wanted her gone."
"She was never right for you," Diane said. Her voice was calm, measured, like she was explaining something simple to a child. "You knew that from the beginning. You just refused to admit it."
"She's my wife."
"And you could do better."
The room went silent. Even Emily didn't move. I stared at my mother and felt something inside me break apart, something I hadn't known was still holding me together.
"What did you do?" I asked.
Diane sighed like I was being tedious. "I made a deal with Merritt. Savannah stays close to you, and he keeps you on the label. It's good for everyone."
"You sold me to her father."
"I secured your career," Diane snapped. "You walked away from law school to sing, Boone. Do you have any idea how much work it took to make sure you didn't throw your entire future away on a dream that might not last?"
My jaw clenched. I could feel my teeth grinding together, the pressure building in my skull. She'd been managing my life like I was a piece of property she owned. Like I didn't have a say in who I worked with or who I loved.
I looked at Savannah. She was staring at her hands now, her shoulders hunched like she wanted to disappear into the sofa.
"And you?" I said. "What did you get out of this?"
She didn't answer right away. When she finally looked up, her eyes were wet.
"I thought if I stayed close, you'd remember," she said. "I thought you'd see that we were good together once, and we could be good again."
"We were seventeen."
"We were happy."
"I was a kid." I shook my head. "I didn't know what I wanted. And when I figured it out, I chose Carly."
Savannah stood up, her hands twisting together in front of her. "But you don't love her the way you used to. I can see it, Boone. You're always gone. You're always working. You don't even look at her anymore."
The words hit like a fist to the gut. She wasn't wrong about that part. I'd been so wrapped up in the career and the tours and everything else that I'd stopped seeing my own wife. I'd let Carly fade into the background like she was just part of the house, not the person I'd promised to put first.
But that didn't mean I wanted Savannah.
"That doesn't mean I want you," I said.
The words landed hard. I watched her face crumple, and I felt nothing. No guilt. No regret. Just a cold, clear certainty that this should have happened years ago.
"Get out," I said.
"Boone—"
"You're done. No more studio time. No more access to my work. No more showing up here like you have a right to be part of my life." I looked at my mother. "And no more deal with Merritt."
Diane stood up, her face tight. "You can't walk away from that contract."
"Watch me."
"If you pull out of that deal, you'll lose everything." Her voice was sharp now, all pretense of calm gone. "Merritt owns half the industry in this town. He could bury you before you even know what hit you."
"Then he buries me." I met her eyes and didn't look away. "I don't care."
"You're being stupid."
"I'm being done."
Savannah was crying now, her hands pressed to her mouth like she could hold the sound in. She looked at me, and I saw something desperate and raw in her expression that I'd probably been ignoring for years.
"I love you," she said.
The words should have meant something. They should have made me feel guilty or conflicted or at least sorry for her. But all I felt was tired.
"No, you don't," I said. "You love the idea of me. You love what I represent, or what you think I could give you. But you don't know me, Savannah. You haven't known me for a long time."
"That's not true."
"It is." I stepped back, putting distance between us. "And even if it wasn't, it wouldn't matter. I'm married. I love my wife. And you tried to destroy that."
Her face went red, her tears spilling over. "She's not good enough for you."
"She's better than I deserve."
Savannah opened her mouth, then closed it again. She looked at Diane, who was watching me with an expression I couldn't read, and then she turned and walked out of the room. I heard the front door open and close a few seconds later, and then she was gone.
I looked at my mother.
"If Merritt wants to bury me, let him try," I said.
"But you tell him this—if he doesn't let me out of that deal, I'll make sure everyone in Nashville knows exactly how it got made.
I'll tell them you traded me like I was livestock, and I'll tell them he went along with it because he thought his daughter deserved a piece of my career. "
Diane's jaw tightened. "You wouldn't."
"Try me."
She stared at me for a long moment. Then she picked up her purse and walked out without another word.
The house went quiet. I stood in the middle of the sitting room and felt the weight of everything I'd just done settle over me like a heavy blanket. Emily was still by the fireplace, watching me with something that looked like pride.
"You okay?" she asked.
"No." I ran a hand through my hair and felt the tremble in my fingers again. "But I will be."
She nodded. "What are you going to do now?"
I didn't know. I wanted to go to Carly and tell her everything, but I didn't even know where she was. Dee's bar, probably. That's where she always went when she needed space.
But I couldn't go there yet. Not until I'd actually walked away from the deal. Not until I could stand in front of her and prove I'd cut every tie that had been holding me back.
"I'm going to fix it," I said.
Emily didn't ask how. She just gave me a small, sad smile and left me alone in the house I'd shared with Carly. The house that felt empty now without her in it.
I thought about the ring in my pocket. The silver band I'd been carrying since I found it at the studio. The one engraved with both our names.
God, I hoped I wasn't too late.