Authors: Cheryl Douglas
“When she died, a part of me died too. That experience changed me, changed my life, and no matter the circumstances surrounding the loss, there is no pain in the world greater than losing your child. For those of you who have children, go home tonight and tell them you love them. Hold them tight for those of us who wish we still had the chance to do just that.”
Sierra brushed away the tears, determined to hold it together, terrified of letting him see her fall apart. It had been years since she’d allowed herself to succumb to the grief. She’d forced herself to channel those dark, debilitating emotions into something productive. So how could his words still have the power to devastate her after all these years? Because these were the words she’d longed to hear when they lost their little girl. She wanted him to talk to her about his feelings, about the hopes and dreams that would never be realized. Instead, he’d shut down, shut her out, and found his solace living on a tour bus, sinking in the depths of a bottle.
Marisa reached across the table and took her hand. “Hey, are you okay?”
She nodded her head, afraid to speak, afraid to free the emotions clawing for release.
“I want to ask y’all to do me a favour tonight. I know that times are tough, but I wanna ask you to reach into your pockets to support this amazing cause that Sierra has poured her heart and soul into. Sierra and I are going to be singing a few songs for you in just a little bit and Jimmy was generous enough to donate proceeds from these ‘premium’ drink sales to The Rainbow Fund.”
The crowd applauded Jimmy, who stood and tipped his hat.
“I think I see a donation jar set up on the bar over there and I’m sure Sierra would be happy to give you some more info on how you can help this amazing cause. In addition, I’d like to step up and donate $100,000 to The Rainbow Fund.”
The crowd cheered and clapped, and the women surrounding the small stage looked at him with adoration in their eyes.
He looked toward the table where she sat, having no idea she was battling a deluge of feelings that had been buried behind the safety of a protective barrier too long: bitterness, disappointment, anguish, and the ache of a destructive love that threatened to consume her with its intensity. “Sierra, could you stand up for just a minute?”
She was crazy to think they could make amends. He clearly thought he could walk back into her life, throw some money at her, and make up for the tragedy he’d left her to face alone. There was no amount of money in the world that could repair her broken heart or erase her agonizing memories of those months after their daughter died. His need for money and power was one of the reasons their marriage fell apart, and now he wanted to use that money to make himself look like a hero to his fans. They could hold on to that idealistic image of him, but she knew the truth. Her ex-husband was a liar and a coward.
Reluctantly, at the prodding of Jimmy and Marisa, she stood and glared at him.
“Sierra, on behalf of all the parents who have lost a child, I want to thank you for all The Rainbow Fund does to help the families of these children deal with their loss. You are an angel.”
She wasn’t about to stand there with a smile and a wave, making nice with this man, accepting his false gratitude and praise for the cause that was her lifeline. She’d watch his money burn before she’d allow him to use it to ease his guilty conscience. It was too little, too late.
She should have trusted her instincts and left the past where it belonged: dead and buried.
Before he could continue his hypocritical tribute, she forced her way through the stunned crowd, fleeing to the safety of a dressing room that was more of a prison of memories than a safe refuge.
Trey watched Sierra beat a hasty retreat to the dressing room and knew he’d just blown the only chance he may ever get to make amends. She still hated him; that much was obvious. He couldn’t blame her. He hated himself for the mess he’d made of their marriage.
He knocked on the door to her dressing room and walked in before she could tell him to get lost. The room looked exactly the same as it had the night she told him she was filing for divorce.
Memories shouldn’t have the power to render you speechless, but these did. It was like he was stepping back in time. Same room, same girl, and she was still distraught because of the pain he’d caused. Only tonight, he was stone-cold sober and he’d do whatever it took to make things right between them. He’d be damned if he let her walk out of his life with so many things left unsaid.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, sliding his hands into the pockets of his jeans so he wouldn’t be tempted to reach out and touch her.
“For what?” She sniffled and dabbed at her eyes with a tissue.
“Everything.” He lowered himself to the leather couch, the same couch where they’d made love countless times. He stroked the aged, distressed leather and remembered a time when her body had been so warm and willing. Now, it was trembling with unshed tears and he hated knowing that he was the cause.
“I thought I could handle this,” she whispered. She paced the small room. “I thought I had put this behind me.”
“I was just trying to make up for the past the only way I knew how, baby.”
She turned on him, her blonde hair fanning out around her shoulders. “Don’t you dare call me that.”
“I’m sorry.” He’d always called her that when they made love. At least she remembered. “You really do hate me, don’t you?”
“Yes, no. Hell, I don’t know.” She sank into the chair across from him and tucked her legs under her. “I want to hate you. I should hate you, but I’m tired of living with this anger. I just want to let it go so I can move on with my life.”
He looked at her engagement ring. It was big, bright, and sparkly. It mocked him with its brilliance. It was three times the size of the engagement ring he’d been able to give her when he proposed. He’d promised one day to replace it with the ring she deserved. Apparently, some other guy had beaten him to it. “It looks like you’ve already moved on with your life.”
Her eyes flashed with anger. “Don’t say it like that, like I don’t have the right to be happy.”
He sighed, frustrated that everything he said incensed her. “Of course you deserve to be happy.”
She scoffed, bitterness flashing in her eyes. “Just not with any other man, is that it?”
He chuckled, in spite of his foul mood. “Hell no, I don’t even want to picture you with another man. It makes me crazy.”
She gave him a half-smile. “You always were a jealous, possessive, overprotective jerk.”
He shrugged his shoulders, unable to deny the claim. “I guess some things never change.”
“How do you think I felt?”
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
She closed her eyes and leaned her head against the back of the chair. “Seeing your face with countless women, each more beautiful than the last, splashed across the cover of every magazine in the country weeks after I left.” Her voice broke. “You said you were glad to be free. That you weren’t cut out for marriage.”
He leaned forward in his seat, knowing how important this was. He had made so many mistakes. He couldn’t afford to screw this up. “I’m so sorry for the things I said back then. I was drunk every day for almost a year after you left. I couldn’t form a coherent thought. Every statement I made to the press was just the ramblings of a drunk, bitter man who was destroyed because the woman he loved more than life itself dumped his sorry ass.”
She opened her eyes and smiled through her tears. “Thanks for saying that. I needed to hear it. I hated believing that our marriage meant so little to you.”
“Our marriage meant everything to me,” he whispered.
She brushed away the tears. “Then why didn’t you fight harder to try to save it? Why did you refuse to even acknowledge me after Callie’s death? God, Trey, I felt so alone.”
He got up and moved to the edge of her chair, pulling her into his arms. He didn’t know if she would let him console her now, but he had to try. “I’m ashamed of the way I acted after Callie’s death. I hated myself and I just assumed you hated me too. It was my fault.”
She leaned into him, resting her hand on his thigh. “No, it wasn’t your fault. It was an accident. You have to forgive yourself, or you’ll never be able to move on with your life.”
He moved to sit on the coffee table in front of her. He needed to look into her eyes, try to read her reaction. “What if I don’t want to move on with my life?”
“You have to move on. You have to get past all this anger and self-loathing, Trey. We both made mistakes. Maybe I should have stayed, tried harder, insisted we get counseling.”
He grabbed her hand and he was relieved when she didn’t pull away. “Why didn’t you?”
“I’d already lost you to the bottle. I didn’t know how to fight that. I just got so tired of trying.”
She glanced at their joined hands before meeting his eyes. “You knew that my father was an alcoholic. I couldn’t go through that again.”
“I know, Sierra. I’m so sorry. God, you deserved so much better than that.”
“Now I’ve found it.”
He hated that she’d moved on, found someone else, but he couldn’t begrudge her happiness.
“I’m glad.”
“You deserve to be happy too, Trey.”
He rolled his eyes. He knew there were special places in Hell for self-centered, egotists like him.
“You do, but you’ll never find it at the bottom of a bottle.”
He got up and crossed the room. He was ashamed of himself, his weakness. “How did you know I was drinking again?”
“Your sister told me.”
He eyed the liquor bottles on the side table. “Marisa should learn to mind her own damned business.”
She crossed the room and grabbed his shoulders to turn his attention away from the bottles. “She’s worried about you. So are your parents.”
He felt her hands slide down his biceps and it took everything in him not to draw her closer, press her body against his. “How do you know so much about it?”
“I’ve kept in touch with your family, Trey.”
She was close enough for him to inhale her fragrance, a hint of sultry perfume and her. The heady scent that had always aroused him still had the power to bring him to his knees. “God, you’re beautiful.” He caressed her cheek with the back of his hand and watched with satisfaction as her eyes drifted closed.
“Trey, please,” she whispered, flattening her palms against his chest. “Don’t do this.”
“I can’t help it. I was never able to get close to you without wanting to touch you. We used to be so good together, remember?” She stepped out of his embrace and he cursed himself for having said too much.
“I don’t want to remember.” She turned away from him. “I can’t live in the past anymore.”
He pulled her back against his chest and felt her stiffen before relaxing into him. He bent down to whisper in ear. “I can’t let go of the past. I can’t let go of you.” His hands spanned her waist and he nudged her against his arousal. “Do you remember what it felt like? How good it was between us?”
She took a deep breath. “No.”
He chuckled in her ear. “Liar.” His hand snaked around her waist and he pulled her body flush with his.
“Is it like this with him?” He knew he was taking a risk, but he couldn’t help himself, he needed to know.
“It was explosive between you and me,” she whispered. “It doesn’t have to be like that to be good.”
“Mmm.” His tongue flicked against her earlobe and he felt her sharp intake of breath as she sank against him. “It was amazing, baby. Like nothing I’ve ever experienced before or since. You?”
She seemed to rally the strength to step out of his arms and took a step away before turning to face him. “You’re an amazing lover, Trey. The best I’ve ever had, but that doesn’t change anything.”
He clenched his fists at his sides, knowing his touch would be unwelcome. How could she belong to another man when she still responded to him as she always had? They were always a word or caress away from hitting the sheets; the sexual tension in the room proved that was still the case. “Did you ever respond to another man like this when you were with me?”
She folded her arms over her chest. “What does that have to do with anything?”