Chapter Six

About You

The 1975

Easton

Stroking Natalie’s hair from her face, I watch her sleep as I have for hours. I meant what I said. The weight of the last year hit me like a ton of bricks when Natalie second-guessed her ask. But my wife isn’t the only one who got swept up in the illusion.

Instead of running my own career and schedule, I gave in to the expectations of the people surrounding me. Truthfully, after the release of our second album, I didn’t want to tour. I was fine with waiting at least another year. The decision to yield to those expectations cost us both. It hurt the thing I love most in the world, and in turn damn near destroyed me.

Pressing a kiss to her forehead, I decide that we’re doing exactly what we said we would do the second she wakes. I’m determined to erase the space completely before returning home. Heart heavy that I hurt her in a way I can’t take back—just to realize I need to sort my shit out—I press another kiss to her head. “I’ll make it up to you, baby,” I promise, unable to help myself from making it. This one I’m hellbent on keeping. “You’ll never have to look for my hand again.”

I write a quick note and leave it close, so she’ll know where I am as I exit the room before I lose my shit.

I’ve been a fucking mess since I woke up, hungover, way too early.

Minutes later, I stand on the beach and gaze at the ocean. The same beach my wife stood on when she made a similar call years ago. I lift my cell and dial his number. He answers at the end of the first ring.

“East?”

“Dad,” I sniff, hoping he didn’t hear it.

“Hey, Son,” he whispers low. “Everything okay?” He heard it. Shit.

“Stop yelling,” Mom groans in the background.

“I’m whispering, baby. Drink your damn Pedialyte. I told you not to down that last mini bottle.”

“Don’t preach to me, Crowne. It is not the time.”

I can’t help my chuckle.

“East? We’re almost at the airport. What’s up?”

I look up to the sky, my emotions getting to me. “I couldn’t sleep last night, and I’ve been thinking a lot about you this morning.”

“Okay.”

My throat starts to burn. “This past year has caught up with me, and not in a good way. If I’m honest it’s been a fucking blur.”

“I get that.”

“I don’t know how long I’ll do it, but I want you to know how much I respect you for doing it as long as you did.”

“If you don’t want it anymore, East, we can talk about it.”

“I do, just on my terms. I lost sight of that already, and I’m not happy. They hurt her, Dad,” I croak, finally allowing myself to bleed freely, “they hurt my wife and almost took a piece of her, and I’m not fucking okay with that.”

“I know. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah,” I sniff. “I’m taking it back now. They don’t fucking get to have her, any part of her. But this isn’t just about that.”

“I’m here.”

“I just,” my voice cracks. “I didn’t want you going another day without knowing something important.”

“Is that East?” Mom asks, sensing the tension.

“Yeah, quiet baby, okay?”

She must nod at him, hearing the plea in his request.

“What is it?”

I palm my stinging eyes with my hand. “I just want you to know that I don’t remember a time when you ever let me down. When you were never really there for me when I truly needed you because you were. So, if you missed a little league game or two, it meant fuck all to me because you were there. You’re a part of the best and most significant memories I have. And if and when we have a child of our own, I hope to fucking God that I’m half the husband and father you were and are.” I swallow repeatedly. “I just wanted to tell you that.”

“Reid?” Mom whispers, her voice full of concern. “What’s wrong?”

“Sorry, Dad, I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“No,” he croaks, “I’m good. Better than good…Fuck,” he utters low, and I know I need to give him a second to collect himself. Several quiet heartbeats later, he speaks, his voice hoarse. “East, you’re the best of both of us. We couldn’t have asked for better ourselves. So, don’t worry, okay? Because we aren’t, at all.”

I nod before I voice it, slapping a tear from my cheek. “Yeah, okay.”

“Son. I’m …” His emotions are getting the best of him, as are mine, and I know I need to let us both off the hook.

“It’s cool. I’m good,” I clear my throat. “That’s all I wanted you to know. Text me when you get home?”

“Yeah.”

“I love you, Dad.”

“You too, East.”

Glancing out at the sea, I exhale before turning back to the hotel and walking toward the only future I’ll ever be certain I want.