Chapter 35

35

I have trouble sleeping. All night I toss and turn, thinking about everything that happened yesterday. Not just that we caught her stalker, but what we talked about on the couch after. She doesn't want something fake between us, and neither do I. But when she said we have to find a way to end the engagement, it was a sucker punch.

She's right, though. The engagement isn't real, and with that, it has to end.

Monday morning returns to normal after the hectic weekend. I have a shift, and Tinsley has a full day of filming. But as we descend in the elevator and both of us are quiet, I turn to her.

"I don't want to wait to tell Forest. It needs to be done, and it needs to be done in person."

That's what was bugging me all night. I've been lying to him. I've betrayed him. I can't fix any of what I've done, but I can change the lying part. I need to be the one to tell him.

"What are you suggesting then?"

"I'm suggesting I fly out to LA Friday night after my shift. "

She studies me for a moment. "Do you not want me to come?"

I thought about that too. I know she needs to tell him as well, it's not just me. "That's up to you."

She takes my hand and rests her head on my shoulder. "I'd like to tell him with you, or at least talk to him about it myself. He needs to hear it from both of us, not just you."

"Okay. Let's do that."

The doors open, and we step out into the lobby. It's just us and the doorman, who studiously makes himself busy to give us a moment of privacy as he does every morning. My hand glides along her jaw, and I bring her lips to mine. I kiss the hell out of her, needing her to ground me. All too soon, I pull back, kiss her forehead, and take a step back.

"You good?"

She gives me a sassy look. "I'm badass."

I chuckle. "That I already knew, little Rose. If you need me for anything, just call or text. Have a good day. I love you, and I'll see you tonight. What time are you done shooting today?"

"Should be around five or so, but I promised Loomis we'd grab a drink after, so I'll likely be home around eight-ish. What about you? What time are you done?"

"Seven if all goes well, so I'll likely be home around the same time."

"Perfect." She leans in and gives me another kiss, and I watch as she exits the building, her security around her as they always are.

Only the moment she steps outside, she's swarmed. It's not the two or three guys who have been lingering either. It's at least a dozen press. What the hell? I move toward the door, listening as they yell questions at her about her former manager being arrested for stalking. How on earth did that hit so fast? Her security gets her into the back of the car, and she's whisked away .

I emit a mournful sigh. Will this madness ever end?

I shoot her a quick text.

Me: You okay?

Tinsley: Yes. Obviously the word got out about Apollo.

Me: Never a dull moment with you, is there?

Tinsley: Nope. Never. I hope you know what you're getting yourself into.

Me: Yes. You. In as many ways as I can.

Tinsley: *eye roll emoji* *heart emoji*

After her last concert on January eleventh, I'm taking her somewhere. Back on Benthesicyme or anywhere else she wants to go, as long as it's just us and no one else.

I leave the same way I always do, through the back, and when I make it to work, the hospital is its usual hustle and bustle. A trauma is there to greet me, and it doesn't stop. It's one thing after another, and by the time I look up, it's time to go. The drive home is quick and uneventful, which is exactly how I like it. I park in my spot and climb into the waiting elevator.

Sagging against the wall, more than a little tired, I check my phone for the first time all day. My eyebrows slant inward when I find it riddled with texts and missed calls.

Shit.

I open my text stream from the guys.

Mason: If you wanted to keep it a secret, you likely shouldn't have made out with her in the lobby.

Beneath it is a series of pictures taken this morning of Tinsley and me kissing inside the lobby. There are screenshots from Intertainment along with a headline: Tinsley Monroe Taking a Private, Comforting Moment with Fiancé Stone Fritz Amid Ex-manager's Stalking Arrest . It's clear we were having a private moment and had no clue we were being photographed, much like the first pictures of us outside the hospital. These aren't for show, and the paparazzi captured them all.

My heart picks up a couple of extra beats .

Vander: They're everywhere, along with the headlines about Tinsley's former manager. To most of the world, it's more confirmation you're together. To those who thought it was fake, it's confirmation that you're not.

And that's the problem. The lies Tinsley and I have been spreading to our family and friends. Only a select few knew we were together despite the engagement being fake. Well, them, along with my parents and grandmother. But to everyone else—including Forest—it was a ruse. A way to keep her safe. There is no explaining these away, and it's not how I wanted the truth to get out.

It's not how I wanted Forest to find out.

I search for messages or calls from him but don't find any. There are plenty from my parents and uncles and aunts, though.

I check my watch. It's almost eight, and Tinsley should be home soon. We have a lot to talk about now. More to figure out.

Christ. I drag a hand across my face and through my hair and stuff my phone back in my pocket. The elevator stops, and I step off, anxious for some food and Monday Night Football to take my mind off the latest round of crap that's being slung at us.

Opening the door to my apartment, I toss my keys, wallet, and phone on the table beside the door and stroll toward the kitchen, only to freeze when I catch someone out of the corner of my eye. Forest is sitting on my sofa, hunched forward with his elbows digging into his knees and his head in his hands. When he hears me, he looks up, and I practically gasp at the sight of him.

His hair is a mess, his eyes are more than a little bloodshot and ringed in purple bruises, and he's pale and gaunt and sickly-looking. But it's more than his eyes being a little bloodshot. They're wild and impossibly dark, his pupils blown out. Then I notice the mostly empty bottle of scotch sitting on my coffee table along with a glass. He picked the good stuff. I suppose I can't begrudge him that.

"Are you okay? What are you doing here?"

"Sort of a dumb fucking question, don't you think?" He lifts his glass and finishes it off before refilling it practically to the top, and if memory serves, that bottle had a hell of a lot more in it the last time I saw it. He's been here drinking for a while.

"Have you had anything to eat?"

He chuckles and wipes at his face. "You trying to take care of me, big brother? You think that will excuse the fact that you've been lying to me while fucking my ex-girlfriend behind my back?"

"How much have you had to drink?"

"Fuck you. That's how much. I love her, you asshole. I've loved her my entire life, and you knew that. She was mine. Not yours." He stands and sways, one fist balled up, the other still wrapped around the newly refilled glass that's now spilling scotch on the floor. "How could you do that to me?"

"I fell in love," I tell him simply because I don't have an excuse for what I did to him, and he has every right to his anger.

"You fell in love?!" he shouts and throws the glass. It hurdles through the air, splattering scotch everywhere before it smashes into the wall, spraying crystal shards like tiny diamonds across the floor. "She wasn't yours to fall in love with! How the fuck did this happen, Stone? And don't feed me bullshit." He points at me. "I want the fucking truth. When did this start?"

"Two years ago. A little more than that now. That time she disappeared and told everyone she was at a yoga retreat, she was actually hiding out on my boat. I came there and found her. It wasn't planned. Nothing between us was."

His arms fly behind his head, and he rips at the back of his shirt. "Two years?! You've been fucking her for two years? "

I shake my head. "No. We had a thing together on the boat, and then I didn't see her again until the night of Grandma's ball. We stayed away from each other."

I can see him working this out in his head. The timeline of it. "Because you knew it was wrong. How could you do that to me?"

"I'm sorry?—"

"I said don't fucking lie to me!" he screams at the top of his lungs, making me wince. He charges me, and shoves me with all his might. I fall to the floor and immediately get up when he swings and smashes his fist into the side of my face. I stagger back a step, somehow managing to right myself even as my vision crackles and sways. My left eye feels like it's about to pop out of my face as white-hot heat pulses beneath my skin.

Fuck, that hurts .

I ignore the urge to touch my face and assess the damage. As it is, I can feel a trickle of blood running down my cheek and dripping onto my shirt. I try to calm myself down, but it's not easy. I'm breathing heavily, and my fists are balled up, but I won't hit him. I deserved that from him, but he only gets one.

He shuffles back a step, notes my face, and spins around as if he's trying to get control of himself but doesn't know how. He's swinging like a pendulum—blind rage one minute and crushing heartbreak the next. Forest was always over the top with his emotions, and this seems to have pushed him past his breaking point.

He starts to pace, his hands on top of his head, the hand he hit me with red and a little swollen already. It was a good hit, and I wouldn't be shocked if he fractured my orbital bone and his hand.

"You're not sorry," he seethes. "I saw those pictures outside the hospital. I saw those pictures of you two this morning. Why do you think I came? I needed to see it for myself. Hear what a lying piece of shit my big brother is from his own mouth." He stops and faces me, his expression pure agony. "You knew how I felt about her. You knew how much I loved her. All these years, you knew. How could you, Stone?"

I glance down at the floor, my hands going to my hips, hating myself for what I've done to him.

"Why her?" he presses. "Of all the fucking women on this planet, why her? You could have anyone, and you chose my girl."

I meet his eyes. "I fell in love with her, Forest. Same as you did. It wasn't intentional. I tried to stay away. I didn't want to love her."

"You didn't put up much of a fight either!"

If only he knew the fight I put up. Two years of it. Two years of wanting only one woman and not being able to have her because she belonged to him. He knows I wasn't with anyone else over those two years. He didn't know I was with a woman on the boat. He thought the mystery girl I had a fling with came after because that's what I let him believe.

He wipes his forehead, and I can see he's sweating. He's more than a little drunk if the slur of his words and the stagger of his gait are anything to go by. He's had a lot of alcohol. More than I could ever drink and still be standing. That in combination with his anger and heartache is making him volatile and unsafe.

I need to text Tinsley. I need to tell her not to come home, but my phone is by the front door, and?—

The door opens, and Tinsley sings out, "Lucy, I'm home. It's been a nightmare day, Stone. We need to talk about those pictures."

Fuck. Fuck!

"Tinsley, don't come in here."

"Don't tell her not to come in here, you piece of shit," Forest barks.

Tinsley's boots tap along the hardwood, and I hear her move in behind me. She gasps when she sees what's going on, likely noting the broken glass, the reeking scent of scotch, my bleeding and swollen face, and Forest looking like he was just pulled off the floor of a dive bar.

She searches my face, her chin trembling. "Are you okay?"

I give a slight nod, keeping my eyes on him, and Forest makes a pained noise in the back of his throat as he watches us.

"Forest," she whispers, her voice shaking. "What is going on?" She takes another step, and I reach out to push her behind me. She doesn't know how drunk and unhinged he is.

"I'm not going to hurt her," Forest says, his eyes locked on her. "I'd never hurt her." He crumples, and my chest quakes. I want to fix this for him. He's my little brother, and not only did I hurt him, but he also needs help.

Tinsley steps around me and I throw her a look that tells her not to. I haven't taken my eyes off Forest this entire time, but my instinct is to pick her up and get her the hell out of here. She doesn't need to see him like this, and though he says he won't hurt her, he's not thinking rationally and is unpredictable. She could get hurt whether he intends for her to or not.

"Was it the pictures?" she asks him softly, her steps gentle and cautious as if approaching a cornered animal. "Is that why you came?"

"I woke up to them. More Google alerts going off about you, and when I saw those pictures…" He trails off.

"I didn't want to tell you over the phone," she explains. "We were going to come this weekend to talk to you in person."

"We?" he asks, his expression hardening once more.

"Yes. We. Stone and I."

He shakes his head as if that doesn't make sense. "Are you just fucking him, or is it more?"

"It's more. For both of us. I love him. I don't want to hurt you, I never wanted that, but I love him, and we're together. "

I'm afraid to move. Afraid to get closer. I don't want to escalate this with her right in front of him, but I don't know how this ends well. As if proving my point, he storms away from her, picks up the bottle, and chucks it the same way he did the glass. Tinsley screams, and I spring into action. Just as the bottle hits the wall, I've got my arm around her, and I'm pulling her away, turning my back, and hovering over her to shield her from it.

"Are you okay?" I whisper urgently against her face.

Tears track down her cheeks, and I wipe them away. "This isn't Forest."

"I know."

I twist around but keep her behind me. Forest is sitting on the sofa, his head in his hands, his body rocking back and forth.

"How much did you drink?" I ask, wanting to check his vitals.

"A lot," he responds vacantly. "I drank a lot." He looks up at me with those big brown eyes.

"Did you take anything with it?"

He shakes his head. "No." He blinks and then sighs, a tear on his cheek. "I started drinking more when we broke up, but I've been drinking a lot over the last few weeks."

Tinsley is shaking behind me, and I hear her suck in a sob. I have no doubt she's blaming herself for this.

He wipes his face and looks at her behind me, stricken by what he sees. "I'm sorry," he cries, tears falling down his face. "I didn't mean to scare you. I swear, Tinsley, I'd never hurt you. I don't know who I am anymore. I just wanted it to go away, to feel better, but it never did, and those pictures this morning…"

Threw him over the edge.

I walk over to him, keeping my hands by my sides and posture loose. I kneel on the floor beside him and take his wrist to check his pulse. Forest isn't a doctor, but he knows what I'm doing.

Fuck. How did I not know about his drinking? How did any of us not know it was this bad? I knew he drank. I knew he was drunk at the ball and then again on the phone with me. I didn't think much of it. We were all drinking at the ball, and I didn't blame him for having a few drinks after seeing the pictures of Tinsley and me outside the hospital.

Still…

"I didn't know," Tinsley sobs as if voicing my thoughts. "How could I not have known?"

"Because I hid from everyone. I drank socially around people who were drinking, or I drank at home alone and didn't talk to anyone when I was drunk."

"I should have known," I state emphatically. "I'm a doctor and your brother. I should have seen the signs. I should have known you being drunk like that wasn't normal."

His forehead falls to his knees, but his pulse is a mess. Fast and thready, and he's sweating. I know what was in that bottle. He's had a lot of alcohol, and it's scaring me.

"You need help," I tell him. "I know you hate me, and I know you have every right to, but I still love you, and I want to help you."

"I was devastated when she broke up with me," he continues as if I didn't speak. "I started drinking to help with that. It wasn't this bad until she moved in here with you. Then I felt so fucking out of control. So goddamn angry and resentful and jealous, and I didn't know how to stop it or shut it off." He sits back, his eyes on me. "I hate feeling like this. I hate being this guy."

"Then let us help you," Tinsley begs. "Please, Forest. Please let us help you."

He looks at her and then back at me. "She was the reason you didn't date. She was your mystery girl you couldn't get over."

It's not a question, but I nod all the same.

He licks his lips, and another tear slips out. "I don't forgive you. Not right now, and I'm not sure I will. But if you hurt her, I will kill you."

"I won't," I promise him. "Like you, I'd never hurt her."

He swallows. "Your face looks like shit."

I choke out a laugh. "So does yours. You need the hospital. You need help."

"Yes," he agrees. "I think it's long past time I get my shit together."