“She didn’t want to talk about it.”
I hesitate as my mouth opens to break him entirely. It would be easy to cut him where it hurts most, to tell him exactly what they all missed that Halloween night, that she was dragged into a restroom while they all partied, fucked, and got high on their own vices.
“She would be dead were it not for me,” I manage, my voice breaking. “You would all be looking at her memorial pictures. Because what happened to her that night…”
A tear falls down my cheek, and I inhale as deep of a breath as I can manage to calm down.
“You say I have no idea what happened on that tour… Well, you have no idea what happened that night. You don’t know how it felt to hold her in the shower after and wash their… theirhandsoff of her. You don’t know how it felt to see her vomiting on that floor, to see four men standing around her, on top of her, as if she…”
The color has drained from Mads’ face.
I lean over my kitchen island and press the heels of my palms into the top, hardly able to keep myself together.
“Gemma, what are you talking about?” he breathes, and I can hear the regret in his voice.
I bite my lips and point my finger at him, blinking when I look up at my lights. “Exactly,” I manage. “Exactly.”
He looks as if I’ve just slapped him.
“Do not come at me and try to make it seem like I’m no one to her, Maddox,” I say slowly. “Don’t come at me talking about how I should just tell her who I am when you don’t know our entire history. Our relationship is more than me just following her, the texts, the photos. Our lives are entwined in ways that can’t be broken. I have more shit to sift through, and getting to know her these last few weeks has only increased my feelings for her andjust telling heris more complicated than you’re making it seem. I held her that Halloween night just like I did after the concert. I bathed her that night, just like after the concert. That breakdown you saw the other morning? That wasn’t just‘oh, the woman I love got hurt, and I wasn’t there.’That was a culmination of every time I’ve ever failed her, and it’s a fuckinglot. That break was because I never in a million years thought I’d have to hold her after something like that ever again. I couldn’t stop the memories. I couldn’t continue holding onto a strong face and hiding my tears because unlike her, I remembereverything.”
Mads gulps and blinks. “I didn’t know,” he says.
“I know,” I say, my voice getting hoarse. “And don’t expect you to have known. She hasn’t told anyone because she’s blocked it out. But now it’s coming back to her, and I don’t know how she’s going to get through it. It’s going to be fucking hard, and I plan on being there every chance she’ll let me.”
His gaze moves past me to the monitors. “What about right now?” he asks. “I watched your fight. I saw her crying. You left.”
“She called Reed,” I say, sniffing. “That’s what… I was coming back to watch her because I don’t know what she’s going to do. I don’t know what she’s going to remember. And that’s fucking terrifying.”
Mads’ gaze fixates on the screen for a moment, his shoulders slumping slightly as if he’s simply taking it all in. I inhale a shaky breath and hang my head, body on the verge of giving out. I wish he’d snap at me. I wish he’d yell. Fight. Punch me. Something.
“When?” he asks.
My lashes lift, eyes meeting his.
“When am I going to tell her?” I ask for clarity.
His chin dips.
I stare at the counter for a beat, letting everything run through me one more time.
“Tomorrow,” I say when I lift my head once more. A heavy sigh leaves me. “I’m telling her tomorrow.”
Mads steps around the kitchen then, pausing when he reaches me. He claps his hand on my shoulder, jaw clenched. “I need you to know that we tried,” he says. “We really fucking tried. And she was hellbent on destroying herself.”
I hate everything I just said to him.
“I’m sorry I said that,” I admit. “I didn’t mean it. I shouldn’t have said it. None of you deserve to think that her issues were your fault. I’m not mad at you. I’m not mad atanyof you. Not anymore. That’s a grudge I let go of a long time ago. The only person I’ll ever blame for her getting hurt is myself.” I meet his eyes then. “I’m really sorry. I hope this doesn’t fuck up everything more than I’ve already fucked it up.”
Mads stares at me in a way I really wish he wouldn’t.
“What exactly happened that night?” he asks. “Halloween. When she went to rehab. What happened and are those the same people attacking her now?”
My teeth are chattering, images flashing behind my eyes.
“It’s not my story to tell,” I manage.
Mads’ hand pats the countertop twice, and he begins to back out toward the door.
