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Ford, having clearly lost all trust in Summer following the spiralling events of last night, had suggested streaming the feed to my bedroom. A suggestion I had taken and run with, but not for reasons he’d thought.
My trust in her has been broken. However, I’m aware that I, too, am at fault here. I welcomed her back, arms wide open and willing to ignore everything else. Had I not declared my love for her that first day, she’d never have had cause to further deceive me.
So the opportunity to allow my eyes to feast on her from afar had proven far too tempting.
Once I’d checked on Bug and seen Jesse to his bedroom—where he’d accepted a hug goodnight, much to my delight—I’d holed up in my lonely bed and watched as Summer drank herself sick.
My heart had broken for her as she face-planted on the bed and fell into a drunken sleep.
I’d left the house to go check on her, telling myself that I didn’t want her to be sick in her sleep when really, I just needed to be close to her.
After spending half an hour watching her sleep, I’d turned her onto her side and left a glass of water on the nightstand, knowing beyond a doubt that she’d have need of it sooner than later before I’d slowly ambled back to the house.
I decided to check on the kids once more before attempting to seek my own slumber.
Bella was face down against her mattress with one knee drawn up against her side, snoring softly. I smiled softly, loving that she sleeps in the same position I sleep in, before moving down the hall to Jesse’s room.
Peeking inside, my stomach dropped and tears prickled my eyes when I found him in theexactsame position as his sister. His blonde hair had fallen forward over his forehead, and he looked so completely at peace, so utterly content, that I, once again, felt a rush of bitterness towards his mother.
A flood of such overwhelming resentment followed me to my room and into an erratic sleep interspersed with all manner of crazy dreams.
What a strange feeling to love someone as much as you hate them.
My eyes scan the TV screen for signs of movement, immediately spotting the rumpled sheets of her bed and the untouched glass of water on the nightstand.
I flick from one camera to the next, my heart rate kicking up a notch with each empty screen until I exit the live feed and access the recorded video files from earlier.
“Fuck!”
The expletive bursts from my mouth when the screen finds what it is I’m looking for.
Summer, dressed in blue jeans and a white hoodie with her hair scraped back off of her drawn, pale face, carried her small luggage bag down the stairs and exited the studio while we all slept.
I throw back the covers and run from the room, heading straight for the recording studio, praying that I’m mistaken. That what I’ve just seen is some big joke.
She hasn’t just run from meagain, has she?
I run directly into Ford when I throw open my front door, the look on his face stopping me in my tracks.
“What do you want, Ford? It’s too early for drama, yeah?”
His eyes hold mine, and the wind goes out of my sails at the seriousness on his face.
“Do you want the Tequila Sunrise, the Tequila Sunrise, or the Tequila Sunrise first?”
I blow out a breath and scrub my palms up and down my face. “I’m just going to check the studio first, and then—”
He cuts me off. “That’s the Tequila Sunrise.”
“Don’t say it.Don’tfucking say it.”
He purses his lips together for a beat before exhaling heavily. “She’s gone, Cade. She spoke with Jesse in his room for a moment before an Uber brought her to London Heathrow.”
His words, while not unexpected, drive all the air from my lungs, and I feel light-headed in the face of her desertion once again. My words—my plea—from yesterday echoes through my cavernous mind.
“Please don’t run from me again. My heart can’t take it.”
I blink rapidly several times to dispel the black spots dancing in front of my vision. It takes a moment before I can see clearly. Ford is brandishing a sealed envelope bearing my name in cursive.
