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“Why are you with someone like that?” I demand. “Why don’t you care? How can you not see that you deserve better?”
He tosses me a scathing glare. “Really? You’re going to say that shit to me? Look at you. You’re Adam’s fucking dress-up doll. You walk in here in the clothes he chooses for you, with his obnoxious rock on your finger, looking like you subsist on an all-air diet. And you want to ask me why I don’t care? If you want to point fingers at someone, take a hard look at yourself in the mirror first.”
“Do you think I don’t?” My voice fractures. “I have to look at myself every day, and if you think I like what I see, you’re dead wrong. You have no idea what my life is really like.”
“You’re the one who chose it,” he reminds me.
His words hurt because he has no idea, but I came here prepared to hurt. I knew this wouldn’t be easy. There’s still so much resentment between us. He’s angry because he feels like I chose Adam, and I’m angry that he can’t see I’ve been drowning all this time without him.
“I didn’t come here to fight with you.” I sit down beside him again. “I came here to help.”
“I don’t need your help.”
“Yes, you do.” I reach out and touch his hand, and despite his efforts, some of his anger melts away, just like I knew it would. “It’s me, Madden. I know the real you, the one you’ve never shown anyone else. And I know what you’re capable of overcoming.”
He closes his eyes, and his fingers curl into mine for a moment before falling limp in my grasp. “Whatever your expectations are, you should let them go now,” he says. “I am who I am. You just never wanted to see it before.”
“I know exactly who you are,” I argue. “The Madden I love is still in there. You can’t hide from me. You never could.”
“It’s hard to hide from you when you’re a crazy-ass stalker,” he answers sarcastically.
“Just take note.” I offer him a watery smile, and some of the friction between us dissolves. “Wherever you are, I’ll always find you.”
His amusement fades away, and darkness rolls through his eyes. “You shouldn’t, Bianca. I’m not good for you. You need to forget about me.”
“No.” I tighten my grip on his hand. “I’m not leaving you. Not until you walk your ass into rehab. And even then, I’ll be waiting outside if I have to until I know you’re okay.”
He gives me a look that tells me exactly how he feels about rehab, but in true Madden fashion, he chooses to deflect the way he always does.
“Pretty sure your fiancé will have something to say about that.”
“I’m not marrying him.” I force the words past the pain in my throat.
His eyes flash. “Is that supposed to be a joke?”
“No,” I bite out. “There’s a lot I need to tell you, but now isn’t the right time. I didn’t come here to pour my heart out. I came here because, whether you can admit it or not, you need help. And I need you to get better. So I’m not going anywhere until you check yourself into rehab.”
“I’m not doing that.” He clenches his teeth. “I have a tour to return to, and I don’t need you telling me what to do. I can deal with this shit on my own.”
“I’m not one of your groupie stans,” I reply. “That line won’t work on me.”
He sighs and leans back against his pillow, closing his eyes. “I need to get the fuck out of here.”
“No, you don’t.”
He ignores me, and I can sense his growing agitation. The only thing I’ve ever been addicted to is him, and even with my limited knowledge, I can tell he’s itching for a fix. I feel him slipping away from me, and I need to pull him back.
“Madden.”
I scoot closer, leaning down until our lips are a breath apart. When his eyes flutter open, I catch a glimpse of the fire that has always lived between us.
“You have to do this,” I plead, cradling his face between my palms. “You have to want it for yourself.”
His eyes move over me, and something breaks in him as he reaches up to touch my face like he still can’t believe I’m real. I don’t know who closes the distance first, but we come together in the way we’ve always done. Our lips collide with a hunger that can’t be extinguished, and I take from him the only thing that has ever sustained me. I live for his breaths in my lungs. His skin on my skin. Our hearts beating next to each other while a storm rages around us. The world could be on fire right now, and it wouldn’t matter. I could die peacefully as long as I’m in his arms.
