Clara could only look up at him. She could hardly even make out who it was, her sobs were so loud in her ears and the mascara running down her face had nearly blinded her.
Trent laid his guitar down and pulled her into his arms. “C’mon, it’s okay.”
She rested her head on his shoulder and wrapped her arms around him as he stroked her hair.
“Shh, get a breath in you.”
Clara forced herself to breathe through her tears.
“What got you so upset?”
“Patricia Little,” she managed to get the name out.
“Figures.”
He held her tight and let her cry out her pain. When she felt as though she could breathe again he pulled back just far enough to look at her. She figured she was a horrific site, but he only smiled.
“Are you going to be okay?”
“I’m tired. I’m just so tired.”
He smiled. “Let me put my guitar away and I’ll see you back to the hotel.”
He gave her a kiss on the top of her head and then walked away with his guitar.
Clara gritted her teeth. She wanted to believe Warner. She did believe Warner—or so she thought.
Clara waited for Trent and he helped her to a car that waited for them. The tears were back, but she’d managed to clean up the trails of makeup which had stained her face.
He let her rest her head on his shoulder and held her close as she cried out the rest of her tears.
When Warner called during their ride to the hotel she silenced the call. She wasn’t ready to face him yet. Not yet.
When the car pulled up in front of the hotel Trent stepped out and held his hand out to help her from the car.
He walked her all the way to her room with his arm around her shoulders.
As she slid the key into the lock she turned back to him. “Thank you so much for being there for me tonight.”
“Remember, that’s what friends are for.” He smiled kindly. “Are you going to be okay?”
“Yes.” She let out a breath. “One more day and I can talk to him face to face. She just caught me off guard tonight.”
Trent nodded. “I told you, she’s a witch.”
Clara laughed. “I don’t think that was the word you used.”
He nodded. I’m trying to clean it up before that baby gets here and his first word is a four letter one.”
“Your wife is very lucky to have you.”
“I tell her that all the time.” He kissed her on the cheek as he had the night before. “Goodnight, Clara. Call me if you need anything.”
She nodded and closed the door.
She sucked in a long deep breath and slid down the door to the ground.
The tears were back, but this time they were angry tears and not aimed at Warner, but at herself for falling apart. If there had been a baby Warner would have told her. If there was a baby then he didn’t know anything about that. Patricia Little had been trying to make his life hell since he was ten. Why wouldn’t she go after the wife and make her second guess him too?
It was then her phone buzzed a text message in her hand. She looked down to see the words I love you. That was what she needed. Even if Warner knew about a baby, that was almost fifteen years ago. He hadn’t killed her or a baby. Mindy had been a lost cause long before that. Warner fixed his life and she was proud to be his wife.
She texted him back. I love you too.
Chapter Twenty-One
Warner walked into the interview room and sat down where instructed. There was a pitcher of water and a glass next to him so he poured some water and took a sip.
The interviewer began his questions and they discussed his writing and the songs he and Randy had penned the day before. They talked about Clara’s performances opening up for Savannah.
He was so proud of her. And to think, he’d be holding her in his arms by tomorrow night. That made him smile and the interviewer even asked why.
“I miss my wife. But she’ll be home tomorrow for a few days.”
Within an hour they were done and Warner walked down the hall toward Jeremy Smith’s office.
“Hey, you sounded good in there.”
“Thanks,” Warner said as he sat down in front of Jeremy’s desk.
“So your wife comes home tomorrow?”
“Yeah. Can’t wait.”
“Ah, newlyweds.” Jeremy laughed. “I set up a meeting for the next day, so don’t be staying up all night, if you know what I mean.”
Warner’s phone buzzed a message and he pulled it from his pocket. “I will try to get some sleep,” he said as he cleared the screen to see the message.
It was a photo, sent from the same phone number as the message about Mindy.
When the images came up they were of Clara.
Warner felt his jaw tighten and the heat of his body rose.
There was his wife in the arms of that guitar player from the other band. Her head was on his shoulder. In the next picture he was kissing her head. But the one that had his blood boiling was them hugging in the doorway of her hotel room.
Another text came through. Think she misses you? It’s hard to remain loyal when you’re on the road.
Jeremy leaned forward. “Everything okay, Warner?”
“Fine. Everything is fine.” But he knew that his voice conveyed his very thoughts. “Are we done for today? I need to get home.”
“Yeah, yeah. Go. Let me know if you need anything.”
Warner nodded, stood, and left the building. It would appear he had some packing to do.
He was grateful that the house was empty when he got there. There wasn’t much that was his and he wasn’t a thief, so nothing would go with him if he didn’t bring it.
The old mattress and bed they had stored in the garage was the hardest part to move by himself, but somehow he managed to get it in the truck.
As he filled up a box with his clothes he heard the front door open. He winced. It would have been best if it was Clara walking in, but he knew better. He’d have to deal with Christian before he could even tell Clara that he didn’t appreciate her blatant infidelity.
“Warner, are you up there?” Christian called up the stairs.
He winced. “Yes.”
Nothing more was said until Warner hurried down the steps with a box.
“Did you give that old bed away?”
“No.” He walked out the front door and carried the box to the truck. When he came back in Christian was waiting for him.