Page 146 of Sweet Distraction

Just like Willow did the last time.

“I’m going to make this right, Popstar.” I press my lips to the top of her head and close my eyes. “I’m going to fight like hell to keep you. And fight like hell to get her back. I don’t know if she’ll forgive me. I don’t know if I deserve her. But that’s the thing about love, right? You fight for it anyway.”

She looks up at me and smiles like she understands what I’m saying. She presses a kiss to the poppy and just about guts me. Then she asks, “Song, Dadda?”

To find my voice, to use it, even when I don’t think it holds much value.

I nod. I smile. I begin to sing her favorite BENT song, the one she always hums and then eventually falls asleep to.

Probably not a good career insight, but what the fuck, right?

Her fingers slow. Her breathing deepens. She snuggles in closer. She’s happy here. With me. I can’t lose her. I can’t lose the happiness I found. I can’t lose the woman who made my world complete.

My boys were right.

“Dude, family isn’t something you protect by leaving. It’s something you protect by staying.”

“You love her? Then go fucking fix it.”

It’s time I prepare to fight like hell. I am worth that. And so are my girls.

CHAPTER FIFTY-FIVE

Willow

HENDRIX: You need to be at the courthouse. Trust me.

That’s all the text says. No emoji. No punctuation. Just nine words that send a current down my spine.

I read it again. And then I’m moving.

No makeup. No plan. No idea what the hell I’m walking into, just a thundering heart and a sinking feeling that maybe, this is the moment I’ve been both praying for . . . or dreading.

The judge has decided. Or Rocket is washing his hands and walking away.

Both are terrifying prospects to me.

The drive is a blur.

The courthouse steps rise in front of me. Each one I climb, I swear my legs get heavier, almost as if I’m not sure I want to see what’s waiting inside.

I don’t. But I do.

Because it’s him.

I slip into the back of the courtroom. It’s just as crowded as the last time we were here. When my flustered, unprepared self took the stand and was ambushed with lies. The beginning of our end.

It feels like it was forever ago and yesterday all at the same time.

My eyes find Rocket instantly.

Ooof. Just seeing him. I never expected it to hurt this much.

He’s seated at the table up front. His jaw is tight, and in the minute I’ve been here, he’s already adjusted the knot of his tie several times.

The man who commands stadiums is fidgeting like a lost boy. My heart—if there were any pieces that weren’t already shattered—is now in shards.

Uncertain whether I’m welcome or not—and definitely not wanting to catch the eye of any reporters or social media influencers who are no doubt in the room—I hover near the back and try to make myself as inconspicuous as possible.