Don’t say her name.That was the one rule my bandmates followed, because they knew how much it messed me up to think about her, especially on tour.My ex, Nicole.The one who got away and the woman who still owned every piece of my heart.After our divorce, I threw myself into the rock scene, trying to forget my heartbreak.Three years after we split, a phone call from Nicole changed everything.She told me her grandmother wasn’t doing well.Mimi was still family to me, and she apparently had one wish before dying: to spend time with us—Nicole and me.With Mimi’s caretaker away on vacation, it would be the ideal time for us to move in with her for a couple of weeks. Of course, I couldn’t refuse.But there was a catch.Nicole apparently never told her that we’d gotten a divorce.She hadn’t believed Mimi could handle it, because her grandmother loved me so much.So, not only would I have to see Nicole again, but I’d be pretending to still be her husband.Two weeks in a tiny house in a small town with the woman who broke my heart. Or was it me who broke hers? It was complicated. And it was about to be a heck of a lot more complicated sharing one bed in the guest room with a woman who wasn’t mine anymore.
