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“I’m sorry for the way I ran. It was really cowardly of me.”
“I get it. I do. These boys are a lot to be around. Tanner is the worst. Well, he was. He really has changed over the last few months. Losing you made him realize that he needed to do the work with his therapist and not just think it would all fix itself. He’s worked hard on his sobriety, and he has no intention of ever drinking or taking a drug again.”
“I know. I get it. I see it in him,” she replied with that giant smile I’d missed so much. She pointed to the bed I was sitting on, and I tapped the space in front of me, inviting her to sit.
“Why do I feel a witchy question coming my way?” I asked.
“I’m not here for work anymore, Frankie, but I did want to check if you’re okay. Tanner told me about you and Matt. I didn’t see that one coming.”
“It’s been on and off for years. But it’s done.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yeap,” I sighed, staring down at the bedsheets. “I don’t trust him, and I’ve been hurt enough.”
“He’s a good man. I can’t for a second think he’s got a secret wife at home. I mean, when was the last time he took time off or wasn’t with you guys?”
My eyes lifted. “Erm, never. He’s never left us.”
“What does that tell you?”
“That his wife is really fucking angry with him for deserting her?”
“Or?…” she asked, raising her eyebrows at me.
“Or what? What else is there? I’ve seen the ring. He told me himself he was married. It’s not like I’ve made this shit up.”
“Frankie, I love you like a sister, so I’m going to be honest because you need to hear this. There is more to Matt's story, and if you stopped long enough to listen to him, he might be able to tell you. It’s a lot, lovely. It’s not something he’s going to be able to spit out in a sentence. You owe him the time to explain. He deserves that. If nothing else, you owe him that.”
“What the fuck, Emmy? Just tell me what you know.”
“No. It’s not mine to tell. Look, finish getting ready. It’s a big night for you all. Then talk to him. Promise me.”
“Fine. I promise,” I huffed out like a petulant child.
Emmy offered me a knowing smile and left, and I slumped back onto my bed, pulling a notebook from the end table. I was writing so much these days, so I had one in every room, and I didn't remember the last time I'd used this one.
Flicking through the pages, I read back through the songs I’d written in it. I had hundreds now, and we were busy turning some of them into a new album. I’d even co-written one with Tanner for Emmy that we were playing tonight—all of us were under strict instructions not to let the cat out of the bag.
I stopped turning when I reached a random page that I remembered doodling all over when I was thinking about Matt. I didn’t stop because of the random hearts I’d drawn. I stopped because there was writing there that wasn’t mine.
It took me a minute to understand what I was reading and when I did, I let out a sob before running to the bathroom to throw up. My heart raced and my hands shook as I threw some water on my face, trying to force long, deep breaths into my lungs. Pulling my phone from my back pocket, I typed out a message.
Me: Can we talk?
Matt: Sorry, R. I’m up to my ears sorting tonight. Later?
Me: Later. Promise?
Matt: Promise.
I paused, not knowing how to fix this massive fuck up I’d caused.
Me: Matt…
Me: I love you.
Matt didn’t reply, and I wondered if it was because I’d broken what we had or if he was just too busy to read my message. I was praying it was because he was too busy when Fi appeared, ready to do my hair and make up for a charity concert we were headlining tonight, that was being held simultaneously across six countries.
