Chapter 27
Ash found her in the bedroom packing her suitcase, but Willow didn’t look up even when she noticed him lingering in the doorway.
“Going somewhere?” he asked, daring to sound playful at a time like this.
She let out a bitter laugh, doing her damnedest to hold on to the anger to keep from falling apart in front of him. “Yeah. I’m going to hole up in my bus near the fairgrounds for the next couple weeks before the festival.”
“What? Why? ” Ash strode into the room—was he limping?—and stood so close she could smell the sweat on his skin. His brothers had obviously put him to work today, and it pained her not to ask him about it. To hear how he likely bonded with Eli and Boone and hopefully got closer to the family he hadn’t seen in years. But everything was different now. Or maybe it had never even changed in the first place.
She took her time as she finished folding her last pair of jeans before laying them neatly on top of the rest of her clothes and zipping up the case. Then she finally dared to tilt her head up and meet his eyes.
“Oh my god! What happened to you?” She instinctively reached toward the small cut on his cheek but then snatched her hand away.
“What?” he asked again, still seeming confused. Then he lightly touched his cheek. “Oh,” he continued. “Nothing. Just a little roughhousing with the boys.” He laughed, but then his brows furrowed. “Your hair .” He lightly brushed his fingers over her new bangs and smiled. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”
She shook her head and took a step back.
Ash let out a nervous laugh. “No, you’re not beautiful, or no you don’t know that you’re beautiful.”
Willow groaned. “Ash! Stop, please . I know, okay?”
He ran a hand through his hair, making it look wild and unkempt like it had earlier that morning. Was it really the same day she’d woken up next to him after the best night she’d ever had onstage…or off?
“Know what , Wills? Jesus, you’re freaking me out.” He took a step toward her and placed his hands on her shoulders. “Tell me what’s going on, and I’ll fix it, okay? Whatever it is, I’ll take care of it.”
She crossed her arms and took another step back, stopping short as she bumped into the wall.
Ash stepped with her, not letting her go, so that now she was both physically and emotionally pinned.
“Can you take care of my label threatening to drop me because of an unauthorized leak?” she asked, her voice beginning to shake. “Can you take care of me having to possibly pay back my advance for a second album that might not ever release?”
He flinched but continued to hold her, and she hated how his hands on her felt reassuring rather than revolting, how her heart hadn’t yet caught up with her mind.
“Willow…” he began, his tone careful and measured. “Please tell me what happened.”
All she had left in her was a tired, half-hearted scoff. “I saw the Instagram post, Ash. It’s over, okay? Transaction complete.”
This made him stumble back like he’d been socked in the gut. He pulled his phone from his pocket and unlocked the screen. A few seconds later, Willow heard it again, Ash’s hopeful, earnest voice as he said “Ready?” and then launched into their song.
Willow squeezed her eyes shut as she listened to the recording. God, they sounded good. She knew it then, and she knew it last night when they performed together.
“I learned quickly that everything I do is some sort of transaction,” she finally said, opening her eyes after the audio clip finished. “Isn’t that what you told me four years ago?” She laughed, and her throat tightened. “I can blame what happened then on my na?vete. But what about now? What excuse do I have for putting myself in the exact same humiliating position when I should be smart enough to know better?”
Ash stared at the phone and then tossed it on the dresser like it had suddenly caught fire. “Willow, I didn’t… You can’t think I had anything to do with this.”
She pressed one hand to her stomach, the other to her chest as if she might come apart at the seams if she didn’t hold herself together. “If it was just the photo, Ash…” She shook her head. “The only place that recording existed was on your phone. Your phone.”
“I know,” he replied, holding his hands up. “Which was your suggestion, remember?”
Willow nodded slowly. “Did you send it to Sloane?”
All the color drained from his face. “I can’t believe you’d even ask me that.”
She shrugged. “Well… I’m asking.”
“What happened to trusting me? That lasted, what, barely more than twelve hours?”
She couldn’t believe he had the audacity to sound angry. At her ! “You’re not answering the question, Murphy,” she told him.
Ash pinched the bridge of his nose and blew out an exasperated breath. “I shouldn’t have to. Not if you meant what you said.”
She finally threw her arms in the air. “Just say it, okay? Say you gave Sloane the recording, and we can be done with this. I’m too tired, Ash. I don’t want to do this anymore.”
He grabbed his phone and shoved it back in his pocket. “Right. I forgot. Hating me is exhausting.”
He moved in front of her again and pressed his hand to the wall beside her head, leaning in so he was close enough to kiss her…so she almost wanted to let him because her stupid, aching heart didn’t know any better. But instead she pressed herself against the wall, clenching her teeth and daring him to say what they both knew was the truth.
“I sent Sloane nothing ,” he told her, a rough tremble in his voice. “I sent her nothing, and I knew nothing about the post. But you were never going to actually trust me, were you?” he asked.
“Isn’t this where you tell me you’re retiring from the industry because you broke my heart again?” She blinked and felt the first tear fall, and Ash’s steely gaze melted.
He cupped her cheeks in his hands and stared at her with pleading, stormy-blue eyes.
“Wills…” His thumbs brushed at the tears that fell freely now. “I’m so—”
“Don’t!” She interrupted. “Please don’t say it.” She sucked in a shaky breath. “Remember when I told you I never actually hated you?” He nodded slowly, and she hated the glimmer of hope she saw in his eyes. “Trying to love you is what’s exhausting,” she admitted. “I have lost too much in my life to keep losing.” She shook her head. “Did you see what they’re saying about me? Calling me a homewrecker just like they did last time? I thought I could handle being a part of your life and your career, but I just keep getting knocked down again and again.”
He tilted his forehead against hers. “Don’t do this, Wills. I’m begging you not to do this.” His lips brushed against hers, and she couldn’t help but kiss him back. Not because she believed they could fix this but because when she kissed him this morning, she didn’t know it was their last kiss. Now she knew.
She tasted salt on his lips, and when she pulled away she saw that she wasn’t the only one failing at holding back tears. The sight of a broken Ash wrecked her, but she couldn’t do this anymore, always waiting for the other shoe to drop because it just…kept…dropping.
“I have to go,” she whispered, gently pushing him away so she could free herself from the wall.
“No you don’t,” he replied. “You don’t have to. You’re choosing to.”
“No,” she told him, sure of at least one small thing. “I’m choosing me .” She cleared her throat. “Colt’s going to be here soon to pick me up,” she added. “I should probably go wait out front so a bad situation doesn’t get worse…”
Willow slipped past a speechless Ash and grabbed her suitcase from the bed along with her own phone from the bedside table. Then she rolled the suitcase out of the room and toward the front door. She glanced back, taking in the empty room that had just begun to start feeling like home. Then she counted to ten, exhaled, and turned back to the door, opening it and stepping through.
Once outside, her phone vibrated in her hand. She didn’t recognize the number but answered it anyway.
“Hello?”
“Hi…” the voice on the other line replied. “I’m looking for Willow Hammond.”
“This is Willow Hammond.”
“Oh good. Ms. Hammond, I’m calling from Mobile One, your cell phone provider. You came in several weeks ago asking about retrieving texts from an old number?”
“Yes…” she replied hesitantly, a faint glimmer of hope rising in her chest.
“Sorry for the delay,” he continued. “Your number is in use by another customer and has been for some time, so it took a bit of untangling, especially since it involved retrieving texts from a blocked number. Lucky for you, your old phone’s backup was still on our server.”
“And the texts?” she asked.
The man on the other end of the line read Ash’s old number back to her, double-checking that the company had, in fact, researched the correct number.
“Yes,” she confirmed. “That’s correct.”
The Mobile One man sighed. “I’m sorry, Ms. Hammond. But there were no undelivered texts from that number. Would you like us to send a record of the texts from the dates preceding the number getting blocked?”
Willow’s heart sank. “No,” she told him. “That won’t be necessary. Thank you for your time.” She ended the call.
A few minutes later, Colt’s truck pulled up in front of the guesthouse. He climbed out and grabbed her suitcase, tossing it in the bed. Then he opened her door and helped her in before returning to the driver’s seat.
“Where did you tell him you were going?” Colt asked.
“My bus.” She stared at him with watery eyes. “You and Jenna are the only ones who know I’ll be at your place?”
He nodded.
“Okay,” Willow told him. “I just need to lay low until the festival and do some damage control with my label. You guys sure you’ll be okay not having anyone over to the house until then?”
Colt squeezed her hand. “Whatever you need, Wills. But…if I see him, do I get to go all big brother on him now that he did what we all knew he would do?”
She pressed her lips together and shook her head. No matter what role Ash played in this mess, he was hurting too. “Just let it go, Colt, okay? There’s nothing else to do.”
“Okay,” he agreed. Then he turned the car around and slowly rolled off the Murphy property.
Willow watched over her shoulder as the guesthouse receded in the distance, ignoring the figure of a man standing on the front porch, watching her drive away.