Chapter Two

I love You

Sarah McLachlan

Natalie

SOS. I just fucked up. Horribly! I just told Easton I wanted a baby and then RUINED it!

Texts come pouring in, and I realize I screwed up royally by typing that into a group chat. A chat that includes Holly, Mom, and Stella.

Stella: A BABY! What…the hell JR! How?

Normally Stella’s reference that I’m the male equivalent of my father would make me smile, but I lost it entirely with Easton’s departure.

Mom: Honey, we’re downstairs being seated at the restaurant. But I can get to you in minutes.

Holly: OMG! FINALLY!

Sorry Guys, I didn’t realize I put this in our group text.

Mom: How did you ruin it?

My stupid verbal vomit. He’s so upset. I’ve never seen him this mad at me, and that’s saying a lot. I can’t breathe.

Holly: Do you want to FaceTime?

No, Holly, I can’t. I have to get dressed. Stella, Mom! Easton’s on his way down with Dad! Please, please don’t tell him or hint to him you know what’s going on!

Stella: I can keep a secret in exchange for a baby. WINK EMOJI

Mom: When were you planning on telling us we could expect a grandchild?

A grandchild has to be conceived first, mother! I just told Easton.

Mom: Don’t mother me. That’s as insulting as calling me Addie.

Sorry, Mom, but can we focus here. Angry, confused, very hurt husband, foolish, ignorant daughter who needs to choke on her foot.

Stella: How did you ruin it?

Where there’s an epic fuckup regarding EC, there’s a Natalie. Jesus, why can’t I stop myself?

Mom and Stella’s reply come in at the same time.

Mom: Nate Butler.

Stella: Nate Butler.

Mom: Jinx

Stella: Jinx

Mom: LOL, jinx again.

Stella: Jinx again.

“Jesus,” I mumble.

Mom: Seriously, how could you possibly ruin it?

My neuroses. Can we talk about the details later? I have to get downstairs before Dad starts to grill him. You know Easton can’t fake anything.

Stella: We’ll hold down the fort, but you should know Reid read baby over my shoulder, so I’m gagging him now while typing this and searching for a closet to hide him in. I’m talented like that in multitasking. This is so exciting, Addie! HAND CLAP EMOJI

Mom: HAND CLAP EMOJI. I don’t want to be called Grandma. I just made that decision.

Glad you two are excited. EYE ROLL EMOJI. I’m in crisis here.

Holly: I’m going to be an Auntie! HAND CLAP EMOJI, HEART EYES EMOJI.

This is serious, guys. I’m scared he won’t forgive me. I don’t know if I could blame him.

Stella: I can come up.

NO! He’ll know. Give me ten. Keep him busy, do something…Stella-ish.

Mom: Hey, I’ll have you know I’m an amazing distractor!

Whatever, I don’t care if you get arrested. Just help!

Mom: I spy the tall red-headed male that helped me in conceiving you. On it.

Thanks.

Stella: Hanmbs full alzready.

Thank you.

Holly: You better FT me tonight! BABY CARRIAGE EMOJI, RATTLE EMOJI, BOTTLE EMOJI. Can I put in a sex request?

It doesn’t work like that, Holly!

Holly: Boy!

Mom: Girl.

Stella: Baby, but I do love blue.

I toss my phone on the bed like a hot potato. In a matter of minutes, my second mexication has started to resemble my first—complete with eyewitnesses. Our parents, no less.

My fault. All of it.

What’s worse is he didn’t at all hear my apology or want to. That’s not Easton. He knows I’m a planner. He knows me. Still, I can’t blame him at all for feeling whatever animosity he is. This trip was a surprise—an anniversary present—and I’ve already tainted it with my anxiety.

Feeling physically sick, I gather myself enough to dress and make it downstairs, pausing at the hotel bar. My eyes land on the very stool Easton discovered me sitting on years before, piss drunk, and agonizing over the loss of him.

Heartbroken over living a separate life from him and the fact I couldn’t at all move on. The renewed pain of that time alone—combined with this fresh hell—thrums in my chest as I enter the restaurant, eyes frantically searching the space for Easton.

Stella and Reid spot me first from the table and wave me over as the hostess guides me in. They all stand to greet me with hugs and embrace me with similar affection, Easton nowhere to be seen.

“Easton didn’t stay?” I ask my father as I take the seat next to him.

“No, he said he was going for a walk. What in the hell is going on?”

“Later,” I reply under my breath as I fake a smile for the rest of the table and take in all of them. “I’m so happy you guys are here. I look pointedly at Stella and Reid. “I’ve been missing you two and Seattle.”

We make a little small talk before Reid finally announces the presence of the red elephant in the room. “Where’s East?”

“Said he was taking a walk,” Dad supplies.

Reid looks between us all eagerly, his eyes finding Dad’s across the table. “So, you know?”

“Know what?” Dad asks, instantly on alert. He immediately turns to Mom and me. “Know what?”

Reid lifts his menu, stealing his attention before mouthing a “later” to dad. Dad dips his chin briefly in reply just as Reid takes an elbow to the ribs courtesy of Stella.

“You two are shit at hiding your bromance,” Stella quips, blowing out a breath of frustration. “It’s pathetic.”

“Yeah, well, you’d be surprised at how much you don’t know,” Reid fires back, snapping his menu shut. “We don’t lie to each other. It’s FIL code.”

“Phil code?” Mom asks.

“I’m assuming these two jackasses are now using acronyms for father-in-law.”

“You’re both getting old and soft,” Mom retorts dryly. “And you completely underestimate us.”

Mom and Stella clink glasses without so much as looking at each other. When the waiter returns, Reid orders drinks for me and Dad without pause.

Oddly enough, after all the drama that went down due to Easton’s and my coupling, our parents get along famously and spend time together withoutus. It’s been wildly entertaining to watch Stella and my mom form a bond to the point they gang up on our fathers and vice versa. If I wasn’t in a state of utter panic, I would find this exchange amusing.

They’ve all done their part and exceeded anything we could have hoped for. What was forced at first seemed to disappear entirely just after our wedding in Bali. We still don’t know what changed the dynamic between our fathers, but it’s been such a surreal blessing, Easton and I don’t question it.

“He needs to hurry up. I’m starving,” Reid chimes in, looking past me.

“He’ll be here,” I reply with little-to-no conviction. My mom catches my eyes, and I avert them. I’m at an utter loss, and I know I can’t keep this ruse up for long.

What the fuck have you done, Natalie?

Most of the time, I can keep my insecure ramblings to myself, and God, I thought I’d gotten close to mastering it over the last few months. But, even I can see why he’d be so hurt by this, even if…in a lot of ways, I think I’m right for voicing my concerns.

It wasn’t the time.

It wasn’t even in the vicinity of the time. I ruined it. Point blank. I might as well have fucking shot him in the chest with the way he reacted. When I threw out my birth control, I waited a month to tell him. I even fantasized how I would say it, ask him, and it’s killing me that he’s somewhere bleeding freely because I delivered so horribly.

With too much emotion and panic swirling inside me, I speak up.

“I…I-I’m r-really so happy you all are here, so happy, really, I am… happy.” I stand suddenly, and four pairs of concerned eyes focus on me as I offer my excuse. “I’m going to go grab him. Please order without us, okay?”

My voice shakes so badly that no one questions my quick exit but my dad. Mom keeps him idle with an immediate objection and a hand on his arm as I flee the table. I make it to the lobby when Stella sounds up behind me.

“Natalie, honey, wait up.”

I turn to see Stella with a rare, serious look consuming her expression. I leap toward her and hold her tightly to me, burying my face in her neck. She hugs me back just as firmly. “You saved my life this year. You know that, right?”

“All I did is remind you of the strength you already possess. Forget about that. You’re scaring me.”

“I’m scared. I hurt him, Stella. I didn’t mean to, oh…but I did. I need to find him. I just don’t know what words to say.”

“Let’s get you a little calmer before you go after him, okay?” She pulls back from me, scouring me with familiar maternal concern. “You look so beautiful. You’ve been eating and sleeping more?”

I nod. “Yes, I swear.”

“Proud of you. Come on, let’s hide from your dad because Addie is having a hell of a time keeping him at the table.” She ushers me to a nearby lounge and tucks us in a corner with high-back chairs, taking the footstool of one of them and forcing me to take the seat in front of her.

“What happened?”

“It was amazing. He got here, and we had the most beautiful afternoon playing in the ocean. After he opened the guitar you helped me pick out, the vibe was there, and opportunity presented itself. It was the perfect time to ask, so I did. I’ve been thinking about it the last few months while feeling better.”

She nods in understanding. “So, he wasn’t receptive?”

“God, yes, in the most incredible way, and then I ruined it by insinuating he will be an absent parent.”

She rubs her lips together as more guilt sets in due to the fact I’m relieved that she’s the only mother I have to deal with right now. As close as Mom and I have gotten in the past few years, Stella has been my rock this particular year. So much so that I wouldn’t have been able to ask Easton for a baby with any confidence, or at all for that matter, if she hadn’t helped me deal—and build it back up.

The outing of our second marriage backfired when the media turned on me just nine months after our Bali wedding. One day I was worthy. The next, I was crushed into the cement by the heels of many.

It started when someone dug up a photo of Tye and me that was taken during the separation of our first marriage. The accompanying text was filled to the brim with misinformation, and the post went viral. Just after, they came out and at me, in droves.

But it wasn’t just the usual trolls, which up until that point, I had successfully ignored. Judgments were passed as accusations flew that the picture was recent, I had been unfaithful, and so forth and so on. Days after Easton’s PR released a statement about the picture and the facts that debunked the false accusations, the media joined the witch hunt, only fueling the fire because of Easton’s celebrity status.

In horror, I watched total strangers argue online about my worth as a woman, wife, and human being, while tearing me and each other apart due to their own varying differences of opinion.

Stella stepped in immediately, killing a few media outlet articles before they ever saw the light of day, going full-on mama bear.

Since, I’ve been through a multitude of warfare-filled moments, primarily due to media but mostly by Easton’s female fanbase. I expected it, but nowhere near that extreme, and being press did fuck all to prepare me for the barrage of hatred I endured.

Easton was on fire for months as the sum of all his fame-fueled fears and predictions came to fruition, with me as the target. One night in particular, a pap cornered him after a show and taunted him with a claim that Tye had spilled to a ‘close source’ his favorite sexual positions with me. Easton exploded on him, and Joel broke his own wrist during the altercation in an effort to hold him back.

It was a horrific mess, and none of us came out unscathed.

Stella helped me through the absolute worst of it, flying in from Seattle more than once to retrieve me from the dark hole I was rapidly sinking into before trying to teach me ways to cope. But being in media, it was a nightmare to stick with her advice because it was my job to be present and aware. Distracted by thoughts of that time, I almost miss her reply to my admission of how I just broke her son’s heart.

“He will, Natalie. He will be absent. That’s a given.”

“I still shouldn’t have said it. He’s never neglected me, I mean…within reason. I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Natalie,” she says in the same tone that lured me out of a two-month depression. “Look at me.”

I glance up. “Reid missed Easton’s first steps. Hell, he barely made his birth.”

I nod and bite my lip.

“See, you’re prepared for that. Easton is not.”

“I’ll never make him choose. I won’t, Stella, I just…God, he’s just so hurt. He knows me. He knows I overthink, plan—”

“He’s scared you’re right, and the sad truth is, you are. Unless he hangs it up, or you do, he will be an absent parent, maybe not as much as Reid was, but he will. It’s inevitable.”

“Well, the chances of giving you that grandchild anytime soon feel slim now. He couldn’t even look at me.”

“He will, and eventually, he’ll tell you you’re right. He’s not as mad at you as he is of the truth. Being a musician is far less glamorous than anyone realizes, but now you both know. It’s being forced from performance to performance because there are people who financially have a stake in every single one of them. But keep in mind, my boy made smart decisionsbefore he began his career. He answers to no one but those buying tickets to his shows. He’s capable of stopping said show at any time to be present for you and whatever children you have.”

I catch a runaway tear. “I know. I’m the one who told him to tour, to record, to do whatever he truly wanted to, so I had no right.”

“We’ve been over this. You have every right. I’m not taking sides, your fears are warranted, but my son is a sensitive soul. He wants to be everything to you and a rock star, and he can’t. It’s not his fault or yours, but it’s impossible. I’d be a lot more worried if kids weren’t even on the table.”

“He won’t even acknowledge he’s a rock star and constantly labels himself a musician, but I know what I signed up for, Stella.” I shake my head. “I hate saying this. It makes me feel weak. But sometimes I get so scared because I love him too much. I need him too much. I’ll bear whatever I have to because the alternative…I cannot live with the alternative.” I shake my head. “Not again.”

“Get that out of your head, okay? It’s a fight and one you need to have. As you well know, it’s a fucking tough job being a very successful musician’s wife. He’ll realize it more and appreciate you more for it over the years, but he’s not immune to that truth at all, especially after this past year. He’s still struggling with what transpired and feels responsible, but neither of you is to blame. Just give him time to cool off and think.”

“Okay,” I nod, wiping my face. “I don’t think I can go back—”

“Don’t worry about it. We’re more than capable of having dinner without you. We’ll get them drunk and distracted. That was our plan, anyway, to give you two some much-needed one-on-one. We kind of feel like third wheels here, but Easton insisted.”

I grip her hand. “I’m so glad you are. You’re not third wheels at all. I just didn’t expect to be fighting.”

“That’s marriage.” She winks. “Now go find him, and if he’s not ready, then try to be patient. He’ll come around.”

“What if he doesn’t? He said he’s never been angrier with me.”

“Jr, listen, the only thing my son can’t live without is in tears in front of me. You, sweetheart, may have the Crowne name but are every bit a Butler. You inherited the trait of telling the brutal truth, no matter how painful or uncomfortable. You aren’t the only one who knows what you signed up for.”

“I love him, Stella.”

“Stop. You don’t have to convince me.”

“Sorry, I ruined the surprise with drama.”

“Nah,” she smiles. “I’m going to be a grandmother, so I forgive you.”

I widen my teary eyes. “Have to get him to look at me first.”

She gives me her sideways smile, my favorite. “Something tells me you’ll figure it out and won’t have too many issues in that department.

Two a.m.

Not a single reply to one text. After a brief FaceTime with Holly, complete with a small side of Damon, I feel no better. It’s Stella’s words that play on repeat in my head as I fidget and pace—as I have been since I got back to our room. I’ve gone from sitting at the edge of the bed to moving back to the lounger, where just hours before, I felt more content than I have in months.

Just as my eyes begin to lower due to emotional exhaustion, I hear the click of the hotel door. Wrapped in a thin blanket, I sit straight up in the lounger and patiently wait to see if he’ll come to me. I’m disappointed when I hear the bathroom sink running over the crash of the waves.

Defeated and knowing the time away hasn’t done much to console him, I walk inside to find him staring blankly into his suitcase.

“Easton, please look at me.”

He does, and I see nothing but confusion and hurt. “Have I failed you so miserably?”

“No. God no, Easton. Not in the least.”

“Is a baby a way of getting me home?” He exhales harshly, “because if that’s it—”

“No, Jesus, this has gone too far. Way too far, I’m just,” I twist my hands in front of me, “I want a baby with you because I want a baby with you. There’s no ulterior motive, and the fact you think that hurts.”

He tilts his head, eyes accusatory.

“Don’t you dare go there. I know what I signed up for—”

“And now you regret it?”

“Never, Easton, and I never will. Please stop accusing me of being so callous. I’ve dealt with the jealousy and the insecurities as best I can. This decision is huge and wonderful, but it’s got its pitfalls.”

“Yeah, me.”

“I married a rock star, not a nine to fiver. You said earlier that when you are home, I barely make dinner. We’re both busy, okay, I get that.”

“There’s something more to this—in what you said, in what you’re not saying—and you need to come clean…now.”

“Maybe I’m still jealous and insecure at times, but not in the way you might think.”

“Explain,” he grits out, fisting off his T-shirt.

“I see the life we want and the one we have, and it’s not quite adding up. It is what it is, and I’m not unhappy. I’m not, but lately, it’s like we’re living separate lives and coming together when those lives don’t get in the way.”

“We talk out every move we make, Natalie.”

“I know,” I release a stressed breath as his eyes command the truth.

“Okay…fuck it, you want to get into it, fine. We started out as close as two people could be, and all of a sudden, I’m finding out through third parties things I want to know, want to hear from you while you converse with someone else. I get jealous of that, okay? I used to be the first to know everything, but now I’m the one you put on your best front for and act like everything’s good—even when it’s not. I don’t want that. That’s not us.”

“The fuck?” He cups the back of his neck. “Because I want to spend what time we have together making it good?”

“Sharing everything in our hearts and on our minds is what got us together, Easton. I just wish, no, I want and need us to get back there again.” I point in his direction. “That night you faced off with the paparazzi, and things got bad. You didn’t call me.”

“It was fucking four am your time.”

“I don’t give a damn. I want to be there for you. I wanted that call.”

“I’ve always put us first,” he argues.

“I’m not saying you haven’t. I just want to be a part of the life you live without me, that’s all.”

“There is no goddamn life without you,” he snaps.

“When you come home, you don’t want to rehash it all with details, I get it, but it hurts a little.”

“All news to me,” he bites out.

“I’m sorry, Easton. How many times do I have to say it? The last thing I want to do is ruin this time we have together. When I went downstairs, as I passed that damn bar, I felt the same pain. The pain of remembering how it felt to not know you anymore, to love you and not be a part of your life or know anything about your day-to-day and thinking I never would again. As I was sitting here waiting for you tonight, I kept questioning why I said what I said and realized I had pinpointed it then. I just didn’t realize it was bothering me to the point I sabotaged what should have been a beautiful moment for us. So again, please forgive me.”

“Sounds familiar,” he spits sarcastically.

“Stop being an asshole,” I finally snap back. “We’re going to have to do a hell of a lot of forgiving over the years, so get used to it. That’s marriage.”

“Yeah, and apparently, you’ll be the martyr who has to do most of it.”

“That’s enough,” I clench my fists. “You’re just as afraid as I am.”

He focuses blistering eyes on mine. He’s still livid.

“Even if it was a horrible time to bring it up, you know I’m right. You won’t always be there, and I’m okay with that, but you won’t be. It hurt you because it’s true.”

I place my palms on his chest as it heaves, and he stares me down in a way I can’t ignore. I lift my hands from him, knowing he doesn’t want my touch, and the pain of the rejection is blinding.

“I know you’re hurt, but that’s the last apology you’re getting. I didn’t do it intentionally, but you’re continually hurting me now, purposefully, and it’s just not cool.” Trying one last time, I lift and kiss his lips, and he doesn’t return it.

“Jesus, Easton, don’t do this. We can erase this rift,” I whisper, “just, please put me back in the place I used to be, that I want to be in, so we can stay as close as two people can be.” I kiss along his jaw, and he grips my wrists and stills my movement before releasing me. I gasp at the feel of it, his next words, a twist of the knife.

“You’re right. It’s not the right time, especially if you feel like a stranger to me.”

“Easton, we can work this out.”

“It’s late. Let’s get some sleep.”

He walks away from me and clicks off a lamp leaving me standing in the dark, the neon lights of the balcony the only thing lighting the room. Minutes later, I join him, and he remains on his side of the bed, posture closed as I turn on my own side and whisper my love one last time.