Page 77 of Jude

Life was sublime until my past came back to haunt me three days later.

I was in the parking lot behind the Six Sinners recording studio, loading my vintage Fender amplifier into the rear of the Escalade.

A shadow stepped out from the gloom of the brick building,

‘Judah?’

Fuck.

I sighed and swiveled, hands crossed over my chest.

As always, she was immaculate in heels, jeans, and a designer jacket, with her expensive silk scarf fluttering in the Nashville breeze.

‘Why are you here Abby? We’ve nothing to discuss.’

‘Did you receive my apology? Please, I need know you forgive me,’ she pleaded.

‘I don’t hold onto grudges,’ I rasped. ‘But I do block deranged text messages.’

‘Why did you turn so cold on what we had?’ she hedged. ‘Why did you refuse to give us a second chance and marry this strange woman?’

I pursed my lips, mulling her question. ‘She’s not a stranger, Abby, she’s a woman I respect a hella lot.’

‘But do you love her?’

I huffed with amusement.

‘I don’t have to tell you that.’

‘You don’t! I know it!’ she cried out, leaping on my words. ‘What we had was real, so you need to let her go and reconsider us.’

‘Is that right?’ I drawled, not giving in an inch.

That’s when she stepped close and, without warning, slid her arms around me, pressing her tits into me.

‘It feels like this marriage is some scam or a charitable stunt. You don’t belong with her. You fit with someone who understands your world, your status, and your history. Come back to my place tonight. Let’s fix this.’

I stared down at her face, searching my mind for the intense attraction that had made me obsessed with her for a decade.

I found nothing but an empty, shallow grave of memories that left me cold.

The contrast between Abby’s desperate entitlement and Sofia’s unwavering dignity was almost comical.

‘Get your hand off me, Abby,’ I growled as I stepped back, breaking her grip. ‘You’re living in a fantasy world. The story you keep telling yourself died years ago, and I don’t owe you shit. I’m married to Sofia. She’s my wife, and she has more sophistication in her little finger than you or your family money could buy in a lifetime. Now, leave and never come back here lest I get an AVO on you. I wonder what your parents and your socialite friends will have to say about that?’

She sputtered as I rounded the back of my car and slid into the driver’s seat.

I slammed the door shut.

Ignoring the furious screech of my name that followed me, I reversed out of the parking lot.

I steered the truck back toward Belle Meade, eager to return to the only retreat that mattered.

Kian called me on a Saturday afternoon while Sofia and I hung by the pool, just the two of us relaxing after an intense composing session.

Sofia sunned herself on a lounge chair after a quick dip, her skin glistening with droplets of water as blue jays squawked in the maples.

She had no idea how fuckin’ hot and desirable she was.