I press my hand to my stomach, the empty ache echoing through me, while my heart clenches at how broken he sounds. I know he’s blaming himself, twisting the pain inward, the same way I’ve been doing. My muscles are sore from the intensity of his touch, and his need to feel something, to lose himself in me, but that ache is nothing compared to the way my heart feels like it’s cracked in half.
That dream—our dream—of a family, of raising a child together, it feels shattered beyond repair. Like someone held it in their hands and just crushed it.
“No, I know she loves me, Johnny, but the way I lost it…” He pauses. “S-she deserves so much better than that,” Colt stammers, his voice cracking, and I wince as the rawness bleeds through every word.
God, I hate hearing him like this.
I shift slowly in the bed, trying to sit up. Every part of me is drained—physically, emotionally, mentally—but the need to comfort Colt, to hold him the way he held me, pushes me upright.
“Yeah, true. How’s Anna doing?” he asks, and my ears perk up at her name. I can’t hear Johnny’s response, but I strain to listen anyway, praying she’s not blaming herself.
“That’s good. Just tell her we’re truly grateful for trying. We can’t thank her enough for what she did. You too, man. Thanks for helping us through this. And I’m sorry we both lost it at the clinic. I know Dee wouldn’t have wanted to make Anna feel bad. She was grieving, you know?”
His words squeeze my heart. Because he’s right. I was grieving. I still am. Now, all I can think about is how Anna must be carrying this burden, thinking she failed us when, in truth, it was never her fault. My eggs weren’t viable, and that’s the hard, ugly truth.
I swallow hard as guilt claws at me.
She gave us a chance.
She gave us hope.
She gave us everything she could.
I’ll never hold that against her.
Colt finishes the call. “Well, you guys try to have a good night. Dee’s still asleep, so I’m going back to bed with her. I’ll chat to you tomorrow, yeah?”
I pull my knees to my chest and wrap my arms around them as the door creaks open. Colt steps inside, his eyes locking on mine as soon as he sees I’m awake. The way he looks at me is that same tortured, soulful gaze he had at the clinic. But this time, he tries to mask it with a soft smile. He crosses the room, places his phone on the bedside table, and climbs in beside me.
“Sorry, did I wake you?” he asks, brushing his knuckles across my arm.
I shake my head and lean into him, needing the safety of his warmth. “No, I just woke up.” I tip my head to look at him. “How’s Johnny? And Anna?”
“You heard all that?” he asks, and I nod slowly. “They’re both doing okay. Anna feels awful, but I kept telling her this wasn’t on her.” He sighs deeply, tightening his hold around me. “I made sure she knows we don’t blame her.”
“Good. Because we don’t. And babe, I don’t want you beating yourself up either. You needed to let it out. That’s human. That’s real. I’m okay, and you’re not a bad husband. You’re the best man I could have ever asked for.”
His mouth twitches into a half-smile. “You know me too damn well.”
“I’m your wife, it’s my job to know you.”
“I still feel like I failed you,” he murmurs, his voice hoarse.
“You didn’t fail me. You were there through it all. You held me together, even when you were falling apart yourself.”
He breathes out, but it’s shaky like he’s holding back too much. “We’re supposed to be recording tomorrow at Abbey Road,” he says after a pause. “But I’m not going. I’ll email Rob and tell him I need more time with you. We can reschedule.”
Part of me wants to say yes. To have him here, wrapped around me like armor. But he’s already sacrificed so much for me, for us. The band, the fans, are his outlet.
“No,” I say, firm but gentle. “You’ve taken enough time off for me. I don’t want you to miss out on something you love because of this. We can’t change what’s happened, and hiding from the world won’t make it hurt any less.”
He frowns. “Dee—”
“Go. Make music. Do something that makes you feel alive again. I’ll be okay. I’m gonna ask Anna to come over. We can hang out, talk, maybe cry a little, but I’ll be surrounded by love.”
He doesn’t look convinced, and I reach up, cupping his cheek.
“I promise, I’ll be okay. Please, go be a rock god for me.”
