Page 17 of A Song for Another Woman

Duke smiles at me, not Cy. “Comfortable sells.”

The door shuts behind him. The studio finally settles into itself. No cameras except the ones we bring in our pockets. No people pretending not to watch. Just the low hum of the board, the stale coffee smell, and the soft click of Cy packing up cables with more force than necessary.

Melody's at the piano, plunking out the same three notes like she can bother a melody into confession. Her phone rests on the music stand, angled toward the room. A red dot glows at the top of the screen. Recording.

I see it. I register it. I don’t care enough.

That’s a lie. I’m too tired to care in the way that would require me to stand up and do something.

“You going home?” Cy asks.

I glance at my phone. Three missed calls from Emmy now. One text.

Can you call me when you get a second? I don’t want to fight. I just want to hear your voice.

The words sit in my hand. They should break me open. Instead, my first feeling is exhaustion. Not because of her. Because answering her means walking into the damage with both eyes open, and I’ve been training myself all year to squint.

“In a minute,” I say.

Cy’s mouth flattens. “That minute’s getting expensive.”

Melody stops playing. “He’s allowed to work.”

Cy looks at her. “Didn’t ask you.”

A small silence falls.

Melody turns on the piano bench, smiling, but there’s steel under it now. “You act like I’m dragging him here at gunpoint.”

“No,” Cy says. “You’re smarter than that.”

“Cy,” I warn.

He looks at me. “What?”

I don’t have an answer that doesn’t make me sound guilty.

Melody stands. “You know what’s funny? Everybody acts like I invented this. Like I broke into Cade Tyler’s happy little house and stole his attention.” She lifts both hands. “I’m just standing where he keeps showing up.”

“Melody,” I say.

“No, tell me.” She walks closer, not touching me. She knows better when Cy is in the room. “Do you ever ask yourself why this works?”

“The song works because it’s good.”

“The song works because people believe us.”

“They believe a story.”

“They believe what you let them believe.”

My jaw tightens.

Cy sets down a cable. “Careful.”

Melody’s eyes flash toward him, then back to me. “Admit it.”

“I’m done with this.”