Page 80 of Pretty Black

“His manager didn’t have a doctor on call, so he would have had to go to the hospital or at least into an office—” He shook his head, struggling for words.

“Which meant he would have had to leave his apartment looking like that,” I finished for him.

Lowe nodded. “We called Alexander to get his doctor. He is the only one who knew except Saint’s manager. So what that’s, like, five of us including the doctor?”

“But how would he have gotten a picture?” Caspian asked again, rubbing the back of his head.

“Either the doctor or my phone. Fuck,” Lowe screamed and squeezed his hands into fists. “I’m going to fucking kill him.”

“You had photos on your phone?” Caspian asked.

“I had Saint let me take one in case I could convince him to press charges.” His chest heaved with emotion, and if anyone let him leave the building, he might actually kill Alexander. “If he has Iris’ phone…”

I nodded. “He might have all of ours.”

Lowe screamed again.

Caspian wrapped his arms around him. “I’m so sorry.”

Lowe slumped against him. “They think it’s me. The fucking tabloids are all saying I’m abusive. They should be publishing our wedding photos, not this bullshit.”

“No, they can’t think…” Caspian was at a loss for words.

“They do. And no matter what he says or releases, they won’t care. The timeline is too close. We haven’t even been together that long, and we jumped into marriage, and I look like a controlling straight guy who can’t deal with my fucking sexuality so I’m taking it out on my goddamn husband. Not the fucking douche who is really a fucking monster.” He shook with his words, alternating between vibrating with anger and wrecked with grief.

“No one is going to believe—” I began, but I cut myself off because I knew it wasn’t true. The public loved to think the worst of us, and who could blame them?

Our worst traits and lowest moments were made public more frequently than our highlights. No one saw what a good partner Lowe had been to Saint. What they’d done for each other. How their friendship had bloomed into love.

They’d see the black and purple of Saint’s swollen face every time Lowe’s name came up. He’d forever be tied to a photo, even if it was proven to be false.

“I’m so sorry,” Caspian said again.

I walked to the bar and made a drink, fighting my own fear. This was the start of media warfare, and Alexander was playing smart. The judge wouldn’t suspect he’d release stuff about someone he didn’t manage or understand the intricacies of what it would do to us.

“Can you make me one of those?” Lowe asked.

I grabbed the Effen Cherry and poured him a glass on the rocks.

“Thanks.” He downed it and held it out before I put the bottle back.

I refilled it.

“I’m sorry I’ve ever been unkind about your bad publicity. I had no idea what you were going through.” Lowe’s apology left me speechless.

“I don’t think you were unkind.” I lifted my shoulders.

“I was, and I distanced myself from it. I pulled away because I didn’t want to be associated with it, and I thought you were treating my best friend like shit. It wasn’t my goal to be a dick, I’m sure I was. I didn’t put myself into your shoes until just now. In fact, there were times I was mad at you for being in the tabloids so much, and from this side of it…I’m sorry.”

“Thank you.”

He wrapped me in a hug. “I can’t imagine how you’ve been dealing with this from Alexander for years. I’m so sorry none of us listened to you.”

I didn’t trust my words, so I hugged him tighter.

“I love you. Thank you for being what my best friend needs. I’ll never be able to repay you for taking care of him while I was off with Saint.” Lowe squeezed me once more and then pulled back.

“I think he takes care of me more than I take care of him.”

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