Page 139 of Four Fiances & I

“I forgot about that,” Maximus whispers, looking at the door. “She would sing it more around Christian than anyone else.”

“That’s because he was her Blackbird,” Jason answers with a sad smile. “For years, he was her Little Blackbird.” He gives his head a little shake. “Tommy would give her hell for it, claiming she was ‘making him weak,’ so she stopped to protect him. I’d forgotten all about that.”

“It doesn’t look like he has, though,” Sean whispers. The four of us look at the door, all thinking of the broken man who just walked through it.

Walking back over to Jason, I press a kiss on his cheek.

“Can you tell the girls to lay off what we were going to tackle today? If they want to go home, they can.” I turn to walk out of the door, but Jason grabs my hand and stops me.

“You want to call off the wedding?”

“I don’t know,” I answer honestly. “I’m going to spend the morning with him and see what he wants.” I look around at the others and offer them a small smile. “Could you honestly enjoy the day if you know one of us is hanging on by a thread?” I’m surprised when Maximus is the first to shake his head. Stepping up in front of him, I kiss his cheek. “You are a dickhead, but you’re my dickhead.”

He chuckles under his breath, shaking his head.

“You're lucky you’re so damn cute.”

“I’m your brat, and you love it.”

“Yeah, I do.”

“But a word to the wise,” I say, letting him see I’m serious. “If youeveruse me to get at any of the others, you won’t like my response. Whether through a gift or by making comments regarding any of our relationships; I am not a pawn in any of your games.” I look around at the others to make a point. “That goes for you all. There are enough people willing to use one of us against the others; I won't have any of us acting the same.”

“Yes, ma’am,” they say in unison. I used to think this was them all being sarcastic, but apparently, it’s because I can be quite scary when I want to be.

Not saying another word, I walk out of the room and head straight to Christian's, terrified of what I will find. Do I think he would do something stupid? No, he’d never want to leave us unprotected, but that doesn’t mean he's not suffering. We all knew it was bad, but after seeing the way he broke this morning, I think it's time he got some help.

Standing outside the room for a moment, I take a second to prepare myself for whatever I find there. Taking a deep breath, I slowly open the door. Trying to be quiet in case he has fallen back to sleep. But he hasn’t.

Christian is sitting on the far side of the bed where I sleep, still in nothing but his boxers, holding his head in his hands. He’s breathing heavily as he fights his inner demons.

There have been times since moving in that I have woken to find him in the same position, but the second he thinks I’m awake, he heads to the bathroom, shutting himself away and promising he’s fine. But after today, he’s not going to suffer alone. He has helped me heal since everything has come to light; it’s time for me to carry some of the burden.

Walking into the room, I quietly shut the door and head to his side. He doesn’t realise I’m there until I climb onto the bed beside him. Placing an arm around his shoulders, I gently pull him down so he can rest his head on my lap as he did before falling asleep. This time, he doesn’t cry or say anything. He just stares at the window as I run a hand over his head.

“I love you,” I whisper, leaning over to kiss his head. “I know you love me and want to protect me, but that doesn’t mean you have to struggle on your own.” I hug him the best I can from this position. “You need to start talking, whether to me, your brothers or even a therapist. But you need to talk to someone.”

“I know,” his voice barely a whisper. “I’m too tired to keep doing this.”

“Then tell me what I can do,” I whisper in his ear, holding him tighter. “Tell me what you need, and I will make it happen.”

“I don’t know.” Those three words wreck me as this man in my arms always knows what to do. He fixes everything and everyone but himself. It’s my turn to fix him.

“I’m sorry,” the words are out before I can stop them.

“You haven’t done anything wrong, Sweetheart. It’s all on me.”

“I’m apologising because I didn’t know your mum liked the song I’ve been singing for weeks. If I had known, I would have stopped.”

“I wouldn’t have asked you to,” he replies, rolling onto his back as I sit up so he can look at me.

“Do you ever talk about her?” As I expected, he shakes his head. “Can you tell me about her?” I want to get him talking and opening up, and for some reason, I think talking about his mum might work.

“She would have loved you,” he says, his eyes finding mine for the first time. “You remind me of her so much. She was always singing and dancing around and just … happy. She never shouted, but we still knew when she was fed up with our shit. She would rather spend all day in the garden or the kitchen with Mrs Brown than anything else.” He smiles, looking up at the ceiling. “I wish she could be here when we have kids. She would have been the best grandmother. They would have been spoilt rotten, and she would have been so hands-on. She loved being a mother, even if not so much a wife. Tommy was always an arsehole, but she never let him break her.”

“She sounds like she was strong and amazing,” I point out, brushing some hair from his forehead.

“She was so strong; even when the twins were born three months early, she was still there for Jason and me, as well as at the hospital for them.” He seems lost in thought for a moment, and I wait, giving him time to process. “Has anyone ever told you how we nearly lost Sean?”

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