Page 117 of Fractured Frets

She caught me around my middle before I hit the tiles.

“Lewis?” she cried to him standing nearby. “Help.”

He rushed over and scooped me into his arms.

“Take her to my room.” Sutton’s voice trembled as everyone cleared a path for him.

My vision blurred behind my tears. My heart didn’t want to beat.

Lewis placed me on Sutton’s bed and wiped my hair off my face. “Mads, you okay?”

“No.” I curled into a ball and cried.

“Lewis?” Sutton’s voice drifted above me. “Grab me an orange juice and a plate of food. She needs something to eat.”

“On it.” He disappeared out the door into the hallway, where Flint, Cole, Ava, and Tia hovered.

“It’s okay. I got this.” Sutton shut the door, blocking them outside.

She came and sank onto the king bed beside me. The room smelled of Flint, but I caught the subtle scent of Sutton’s floral perfume.

My tears coated the soft, down-filled pillow. “He’s gone. Wants to end it.”

“I don’t believe that.” She grabbed a handful of tissues from the box on her nightstand and handed them to me. “Give him time to calm down. You’ll work it out. You always do.”

“Not sure that’s possible anymore.” Each time I dabbed my tears away, new ones fell. The stream, never-ending.

Sutton combed her fingers through my hair, tucked it behind my ear, and smoothed the long strands over my shoulder. “You promised me you wouldn’t do anything rash until you spent time together after the tour. That’s only a few weeks away. Don’t give up now. He’s just tired and not himself on all the meds.”

I wasn’t myself either. I used to be strong and fierce, and stood my ground. Now I was a neurotic mess. I didn’t want to be like this anymore. I was better than this. How could I fix me?...And Slip? “He’s not well, and I’m scared.”

“We all are.” Sutton rubbed my arm, her touch full of warm comfort. “But you have to stop doubting Slip’s feelings for you. That man loves you. He’s always late on tour because he’s been texting and calling you. He doesn’t stop raving about you at every lunch, dinner, sound check and when we’re all hanging out together after a show. He doesn’t shut up about you. You are everything to him. With hand on heart, I honestly believe that.”

“Really?” I sniffled.

“Yes. I’d bet my life on it.”

I shut my eyes and grimaced. Her observations slammed into my chest. She’d been traveling with the guys. Seen every move they made with her own eyes. She would’ve called me if she’d even gotten a whiff of Slip being into somebody else. Especially Harper. But she hadn’t. I trusted her with my life. There was no doubt in her voice.

Fuck!

The time Slip and I had spent talking and texting since we’d met bordered on obsessive. Even during the past few months, our short messages hadn’t always focused on putting out gossip fires or resolving disagreements. Most were about us. They were fun. Quick and flirty. Dirty. Checking up on each other to make sure each other was okay. Each emoji, like, heart, or snapped photo was a quick reminder to let the other person know we were thinking about one another. Hanging out to be together.

Slip dared me to dream. We belonged together. He’d shown me how much I’d hidden behind the cameras, behind my smile, behind my lies...just like he had.

My past had hurt me so much. I hadn’t comprehended how deep until I’d destroyed the one thing that had been good in my life since Noah had broken me. Slip had become my addiction. I needed my fix of him every day. I didn’t want to lose him. “What am I going to do?”

Sutton placed her hand on my hip and gave it a gentle pat. “If you truly love him, you need to be prepared for a long battle ahead. His reliance on meds, mixed with alcohol and the occasional hit of other things, has put him on the edge of having a problem. Are you going to stand by him, love him unconditionally, and help him get better, or walk away?”

My chest cinched around my heart. “I don’t have the strength to deal with this.”

“Yes, you do.” There was no question in her tone. “You’ve looked after your mom for years. The difference is Slip doesn’t have an underlying health issue...and doesn’t drink anywhere near as much as Valerie does. Once he’s home and gets well, he’ll be himself again. The man you fell in love with. We’ve just got to help him get there.”

“What if he gets worse?”

“We won’t let him.” She shuffled closer to me on the bed. Draping her arm over my hip, she rubbed my back. “We’ve intervened. You vowed to love him through sickness and in health. Did you mean that? He needs you now more than ever. After he has surgery and gets clean, he still might need meds of some kind to manage any ongoing pain. We don’t want him to go down this path of getting sick again. We need to make sure he never does. He also might not be able to do the things he used to do, like surfing and jumping around on stage. That will be tough on him. He’ll have to slow down.”

My body sank deeper into the mattress. Slip loved life. Stopping anything would be hard for him. “Slip? Slow down? Don’t think that’s in his capacity.”

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