Free Melody of Truth (Love of a Rockstar Book 3) by Nicole Simone Page A

impossible to muffle the noise. After accidentally stumbling upon a picture of my ex-wife and her boyfriend twisted into an unnatural yoga pose with my dog in the background, I blocked her.
    “You need to stay off social media,” I advised.
    “I thought enough time had passed. It’s not normal to love someone so desperately it spans years.”
    “Who says what’s normal?”
    “I do,” Ash snapped, then said it again in a haggard murmur. “I do.”
    “Why did you let her go then?”
    “Young stupidity and also, she didn't really give me a choice. It was either her or my career. Emma hated my long spans of touring and the uncertainty of my schedule. Missing her college graduation was the last straw.”
    Neglectfulness, the curse of the rock star that plagued the majority of our relationships. A woman who didn’t mind playing second fiddle was a woman worth keeping, and I had a hunch Melody wouldn’t care. She viewed her career in the same blinding spotlight I did.
    “You haven’t seen Emma since?”
    Ash shook his head. “No, I figured after she got her space she would come back. I should have fought for her.”
    “Do you really think that would have changed anything?”
    “I don’t know, but she left with the notion that my love didn’t run deep enough to save us.” Ash mournfully gazed outside at the rising sun. “It kills me that someone with a name as generic as John captured a rare beauty like Emma.”
    “It hurts even worse when the other man has a sexier name than you. Trust me. Generic means you stand a chance.” He raised his eyebrows, waiting for me to explain. “Melody’s fiancé’s name is Marco.”
    “Ah. Is that where you were last night? With Melody?”
    “It’s not what you think. We stayed up late talking.”
    “How middle school of you guys.”
    The first time a girl let me touch her boob ranked up there with the thrill I’d gotten when I’d woken up holding Melody’s hand.
    “Don’t knock it until you've tried it.”
    “I have with Emma. Anyone else bores me to tears if we have a conversation longer than ten minutes.”
    “Geez, thanks,” I retorted sarcastically.
    “I meant with other women. Why else would I fuck them and leave them?”
    “Because you're an asshole?”
    Ash shed his sullen expression and laughed. “Touché.” Fishing his from his pocket, he swiped open the screen. “So Marco, huh?”
    “Yeah, why?”
    “Let’s see if we can dig up any dirt on him.”
    I opened my mouth to stop him, but my curiosity about whether the name fit the image froze the words in my throat.
    Ash’s fingers tapped the screen. “Do you know her last name?”
    “Carmichael.”
    I had sneaked a peek at her ID when she was in the bathroom—not my proudest moment, but her wallet had been lying on the table, just begging to be snooped in.
    “Holy shit, she is accomplished,” Ash praised. “Listen to this, she's the president of New York Women in Film and Television, on the board of directors for Upstate Independence, and three IDA awards.”
    My chest swelled with pride. “I believe it.”
    “Okay, hmm this is interesting. In this article, it says her last film will be this year.”
    “What?!”
    I snatched the phone from Ash and scanned to the very bottom of the page.
    “At such a young age, Melody Carmichael has managed to bewitch the documentary film world with her stunning raw imagery. According to various reports though, she will be taking an extended break to focus on the next chapter of her life, her upcoming marriage to Marco Ramos.”
    Red dots exploded in my line of sight. “Son of a bitch!”
    “She doesn’t strike me as the kind of woman who believes in a 1950s mentality.”
    “She isn’t,” I growled. “Her career is her life. Marco has to have some kind of hold over her.”
    Sean snorted. “He resembles a Disney prince.”
    He turned the picture toward me and my upper lip curled—he was a Disney prince who looked like he had stepped off the stage