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“More, or less,” I shrugged.
“No, Colt. Did he say those exact words, or is that just what you thought he meant?”
“What does it matter? The sentiment is the same. He didn’t want me then and he doesn’t want me now.”
“Bullshit,” Remy argued. “I don’t know what he said, but Gray just woke up from a twelve hour surgery and he has a head injury. Whatever he says probably isn’t going to make much sense for quite some time. Don’t read into what you thought you heard.”
“What do you even care? You’ve been a dick to me from the moment you walked in.”
“I’ve been a dick to you because Gray is still hopelessly in love with you and you’ve never even given him a chance to explain why he broke up with you! He’s been trying to contact you for years and not only did you not respond, you slapped him with a restraining order,” Remy growled.
Remy’s words only made the throbbing at the front of my skull increase in tempo. Clearly, between Gray, Remy and I, someone was either lying, being lied to, or just had the wrong information. Because things weren’t adding up.
“Look, I don’t know what Gray’s told you,” I said with a resigned sigh. “I’ve never received any calls or messages from Gray and I’ve never filed a restraining order against him. Don’t you think if I wanted Gray out of my life for good that I’d maybe file for a divorce before a restraining order?”
“I saw the paperwork, Colt,” Remy said, gentler this time. “It’s legit. So maybe you should be questioning where you’re getting your information.”
That definitely changed some things. If there was a restraining order, and that was a big if because I honestly wasn’t totally inclined to believe a word Remy said at the moment, then I could guess where it had come from. After all, when I first signed with Quest Studios, Carl hadn’t made it a secret what he thought of my marriage…
Shit.
That actually had me rethinking the events of the past two days. It would certainly be a more logical explanation than Gray making up a random story about a restraining order on the off chance he ever had an accident and I flew to be by his side.
But I’d also heard Gray with my own ears. He didn’t want me here. So, did the fact I needed to fire Carl yesterday change anything where my relationship with Gray was concerned?
Remy must have read the conflicting emotions on my face. “You’re still leaving, aren’t you?” he asked quietly.
“Look, I don’t know what’s really happened. Apparently things I’ve thought were the facts for years couldn’t be further from the actual truth. I don’t know anymore why Gray really left me, but at the end of the day that doesn’t change the fact that he did. And it also doesn’t change the fact Gray just told me he didn’t want me in his room. So unless you think Gray’s recovery will run a lot smoother with a bunch of paparazzi hounding him, then yeah, I think it’s best if I leave.”
“So that’s it? You won’t stick around to hear him out?”
“I’ll make you a deal, Remy.” I pulled my phone from my back pocket and fired off a text. A second later a beep sounded from Remy’s own pocket. “That’s the number to my phone that only I have access to. Let Gray know that if he decides he really wants to talk to me, call that number and I’ll answer. And if he ever needs me, I’ll come running.”
∞∞∞
I should have anticipated the onslaught of camera flashes as the private jet door opened onto the tarmac. After all, sudden postponements of highly publicized world tours don’t happen without raising eyebrows. Truth be told, I hadn’t even bothered to ask about the excuse concocted by my PR team. Probably the usual BS about vocal strain.
I didn’t want to feel any gratitude toward Carl, especially given what I’d learned, but I couldn’t deny the relief I felt when I saw my security team waiting for us at the airport. Santi and his team of imposing figures formed a protective barrier around me and Willy as they guided us to the waiting Range Rover, its heavily tinted windows a feeble attempt to deter the relentless paparazzi. Amid the mayhem of jostling and yelling, I clung to Willy’s hand, fearing that if our connection broke, I’d shatter along with it.
Willy might joke about being my “emotional support whore,” but he truly was my rock, my unwavering source of strength in moments when everything else seemed to fade to black.
We managed to slip inside the SUV without incident, and I almost let out a sigh of relief. Until, that is, I heard the piercing question shouted by one of the faceless reporters.
“Colton, why did you decide to postpone your tour? What secret are you hiding?”
The blood drained from my face.
Fuck.
It was only a matter of time before they found out about Gray.
∞∞∞
The ensuing panic attack left me with no memory of the entire drive home. I’m fairly certain Willy recognized the severity of the situation and discreetly slipped me a couple of Valium from the emergency stash I kept on hand for emergencies when my damn breathing exercises simply weren’t going to cut it.
At least, that was my best guess, because the next thing I knew, my bleary eyes were blinking open to the obnoxious brightness of the California sun flooding across my duvet, blinding me. Out of habit, I reached around for my phone on the nightstand, only for my hand to grasp at empty air.
That’s when I remembered. The accident. Hospital. The secret “sort of” child. And my long-lost husband at the center of it all. Of which the media were undoubtedly digging into every sordid detail…
