“She’d never admit it.”
Clara wrung her hands together. “Did she find her?”
Warner walked back toward the couch and sat on the opposite end. “She found her. She was marked as a Jane Doe in the morgue. That last night of partying was the last one forever. The guy she’d run back to was arrested for her death.”
“So Patricia knows you had nothing to do with that.”
“She knows, but she still holds me accountable. She thinks I’m the one who started her drug addiction and drinking. She assumes that I asked Mindy to go to Las Vegas. And she will keep to her promise to ruin everything I ever try to do. Look at my teaching jobs, my performing opportunities, the only alliance I had at a record company.”
“Warner this was nearly fifteen years ago. She needs to let it go.”
“She’s not going to. Now she’s thriving on taking me down.”
“We have to make her stop. I have to get out of this contract on this tour. I can’t work on something with my heart when I know she’s behind it.”
Warner shook his head. “First of all, you don’t get out of contracts.” He chuckled, then looked back down at her hands. “I think it’s possible to make this work in our benefit. I really do.”
“Take the high road?”
“Right.” He finally turned his head and looked at her. He tucked his lips between his teeth and let his shoulders drop. “You have full access to my catalog of songs.”
“Thank you.”
“We’re married. What’s mine is yours. I’ll even sign over the rights if you need me to.”
“I don’t think that’s necessary.”
He swallowed hard. “And now I’ll go pack my things.”
Clara felt her jaw tighten. “You’ll what?”
“I just dumped a whole lot of undesirable information on you. I’d understand if you needed some time to sort out who you just married.”
“I’ve seen you drink one beer since we’ve been together.”
“Yes.”
“I’ve been in the entertainment industry long enough to know if you’re gay or stoned and neither seem to be the case.”
He chuckled again. “I’m not stoned or gay.”
“You’re clean, right?”
“Since I left Vegas that day.”
She felt her cheek twitch and she knew Warner saw it. There was doubt brewing in her and she hated that. He was willing to leave and she was the one holding him back from doing so. But she loved him and if she’d learned anything from being a Keller; it was that love always won.
“You’ll stay here. You’re my husband and I love you.”
“You didn’t know about my past. You didn’t know about Mindy.”
Clara shot her shoulders back and straightened her spine. “Fine, would you like to hear about my love affairs?”
Warner shook his head and smiled. “No. I really wouldn’t like to hear that.”
“Good, because I don’t want to talk about them.” She inched closer to him on the couch and took his hands in hers. “The worst thing to ever happen to me was my mom’s cancer and Alexander Hamilton trying to kill me.”
Warner lifted his hand to her cheek. “Oh, is that all?”
Clara let down her guard. “Yeah, that’s all. We can work through all of this. She can’t destroy you forever.”
“She’ll try.”
“And I’ll be here. I’ve got your back.”
“I love you, Mrs. Wright.”
“Back atcha, Mr. Wright.”
Chapter Seventeen
Clara believed every word her husband told her, but still she was sitting in the chair in the corner of their bedroom at two in the morning contemplating it all. Warner slept peacefully and Clara hadn’t gotten a wink of sleep.
Who was this man she married? His family was gone—that was the only way to look at it. How could a mother hate her child and turn him away? Or her for that matter. What made Patricia Little neglect her own daughter?
How could a grandmother send her grandson away and a father think it would be better if he were dead? None of this made sense to her.
Warner rolled over and Clara sucked in a breath and sat still. She didn’t want to talk to him anymore tonight. She was afraid, perhaps, there was more.
The thought of the young love affair with Mindy had her sick to her stomach. When she was fourteen her parents were happily married again and her mother was in remission. Sure, she had her one demon, but she was in the wrong place at the wrong time and she knew that.
Warner’s life sounded like it had all been times of wrong timing in wrong places.
She could let go the affair with Patricia’s daughter. What boy at that age wouldn’t have loved to have had an older girl want him at all times? But the drugs and the alcohol—she couldn’t wrap her head around it.
Was there a turning point back to that? What if he did sign a recording deal and he ended up on tour? There would be lots of booze, drugs, and women.
Clara tried to let out a calming breath. She seriously thought she was going to be sick.
It was then she decided sleep wasn’t going to happen and she’d go to the kitchen and get a glass of water.
As she filled her glass she heard footsteps on the stairs. From their rhythm she knew they were Christian’s. His limp gave him away.
“Hey,” he said softly from the living room.
“Hey.”
“You okay?” He walked into the kitchen and pulled down his own glass from the cupboard and filled it with water.
“Yeah. I’m fine.”
“You have a lot to think about, huh?”
Clara dropped her shoulders and rolled her head to release the tension in her neck. “You heard all of that?”
“I heard.” He set his glass on the counter and turned to her in the moonlight. “What are you going to do? You don’t really know this guy.”
“This guy is my husband.”
“Who you ran off and married without telling anyone.”
“That’s what elopement is all about.” Her whisper was growing in volume.
“I’m scared for you. What if he still does drugs and you don’t know? What if that girl gave him some disease?”
“Dear Lord, did you hear everything.”