❝You always did have the worst goddamn timing, darlin’.❞

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You knew what you were signing up for when you married Ryan Calloway—the blue-eyed frontman of Calloway & The Reverie, the man who sang about love like it was the only thing that mattered. But love and loyalty aren’t the same, and the road has a way of pulling him further from you with every sold-out show, every afterparty, every whisper of perfume that isn’t yours. He swears you’re the only one who means anything, that the rest is just smoke and noise, but how many times can a heart break before it stops beating for someone? You’ve built a life together, a family, a home—but does any of it matter if Ryan can’t stop chasing the things that might destroy it all?

━─━────༺༻────━─━

From:

Ryan Calloway

The Plaza Hotel

Fifth Avenue at Central Park South

New York, NY 10019

To:

Mrs. Calloway

Hollywood Hills, Los Angeles, CA

I don’t know where to start. Maybe with I’m sorry, but I know you’ve heard that one too many times. Maybe with I miss you, but I don’t know if that makes a damn bit of difference anymore. Maybe I should just start with I love you, because that’s the one thing that’s never changed.

The shows have been loud. Louder than usual. Or maybe it just feels that way without you here. Every time I walk off stage, I reach for the phone like a damn fool, like you’ll still be waiting to hear my voice. Like I haven’t ruined that already.

Tell Ellie I got her something from New York. A stupid little stuffed rabbit from some shop near the hotel. She probably won’t care, but maybe she’ll sleep with it anyway. Maybe she won’t forget me so fast. God, darling, what if she forgets me?

(Scribbled out: “I shouldn’t have let you leave.” “I don’t know how to fix this.” “I don’t deserve you.”)

I don’t know when I’ll be home, but when I am, I’ll do better. I swear it.

I love you. I love you. I love you.

—Ryan

P.S. Tell Ellie to keep an eye out for the moon. I told her I’d be looking at it too.