Reverse (Bittersweet Symphony Duet #2)

FIFTY-NINE “November Rain”

FIFTY-NINE

“November Rain”

Guns N’ Roses

Natalie

S weat instantly breaks out on my forehead as I brace myself on the cement staircase while battling a wave of nausea. Gaping at my phone in shock, dread courses through me as I open the email to see a petition for divorce, listing me as the one who filed. Opening the document to read the verbiage, I hit the first page, and an instant notification pops up relaying the document is now live. Thanks to modern technology, we can end our marriage with two signatures, one from each of us and another from someone who witnessed it.

“No, no, no,” I choke out as my vision blurs and panic zings through me while realization sets in.

Easton can divorce me right now with the swipe of his finger.

Frantically, I try to dial him back, and it continually goes to his full voicemail box. My heart hammers in my chest and vision blurs while my calls continue to go unanswered. Hysterical, I dial Joel, who doesn’t answer me either, deducing he’s probably attempting to get to Easton himself. I leave a message for Joel, begging him to call me back before frantically searching my contacts and dialing again.

“Natalie, what the fuck?” Benji answers without greeting, his voice filled with clear animosity.

“Benji,” I croak, “please tell me you’re with Easton.”

“What the fuck are you doing, Natalie?”

“Benji, please, are you with him?” I ask, shooting off a text to Easton, begging him to call me back.

“No,” he snaps, “I’m in North Carolina, but he called me after he took off from sound check due to a picture of his bride smiling at another man like he was up next. Joel lost him. Reid’s searching for him now.”

“I think Reid found him. Someone did. Benji, please get ahold of someone. I have to know if he’s okay.”

He lets out a long exhale. “I’ll call you back.”

“Don’t hang up, please !” I screech, pulling a few eyes in my direction before I turn and rush down the stairs into the sidewalk-lined courtyard. “Please don’t hang up!”

“Fine. Let me send out some texts.”

“Thank you.” I pace the length of the courtyard in seconds, spotting some blooming miniature pink roses as images of my honeymoon flash through my mind. Easton’s hair whipping around him in the convertible while flashing me a serene smile. The look in his eyes as he slipped on my ring. His profile as he gazed up at the blanket of stars on the roof of the villa.

“I love you, my beautiful wife.”

“Benji? Anything?”

“Still texting.”

“Okay.” More memories begin to blur in—Easton singing for me at the piano of my hotel. His reflection in the glass at the Needle. The way he looked leaning against his truck, waiting for me.

“Benji, please talk to me,” I plead with him, “just talk to me, tell me something. Anything.”

A long exhale releases over the line, and I imagine him pacing and smoking wherever he is in North Carolina. Another few seconds of agonizing silence stretch out before he finally speaks up. “All right, when East was ten or eleven, he brought a kid home from school and let him live in his closet for three days.”

“Why?”

“Apparently, the kid told East his father hit him, and East couldn’t handle it, so he stowed him away in his closet. He fed him, let him wear his clothes, the whole nine yards. There was an Amber alert. The boy’s disappearance was covered by local news and quickly went national. They did a community-wide search and rescue. East finally went to Reid on the third day after stashing the kid elsewhere and told him he would only tell him where the kid was if Reid agreed to be his new dad. When Reid explained that wasn’t how the world worked and that he had to go back to his parents’ house, Easton broke the fuck down and refused to tell Reid where he was. Reid called the kid’s parents over, and only the mother came along with the police. Reid threatened him with everything under the sun, and even with as much trouble as he was in, Easton refused to give him up. Because that’s East. He’s always called bullshit on everyone, even on intimidating grownups or any authority figure he felt was in the wrong, no matter how much trouble he got himself into. He never backed down from a fight. And because he wouldn’t then, Reid offered the kid’s mother a huge sum of money to help her leave her husband and start a new life.”

“Did she do it?” I ask, a tear sliding down my cheek.

“Yeah, she did. East changed that kid’s life by standing his ground, and he was only in grade school. The way Reid tells it, East still wasn’t satisfied and read the mother the riot act as the kid was ushered out of the house. His entire life, he’s been that way. That’s the man you married.”

“I know,” I sniff.

“No, you don’t, because the only time he’s ever backed out of a fight is for you . He’s kept himself from flying to Austin every day to confront your father because he knows how detrimental it will be for you. He is altering himself for you , Natalie, and it’s fucking him up. I’ve never seen him so wrung out.”

“I don’t want that. You have to know I don’t want that. I love Easton the way he is. I wouldn’t change a single thing about him. But our parents can’t handle this, Benji. Not just mine, Reid and Stella, too. Easton’s at odds with them, blaming them for our separation. It’s too much.”

“So that picture he went off about, is that your fucked up way of—”

“No, hell no. He’s a coworker, and you’re more his type.”

“But you’re letting him believe it?”

“No, I told him the truth right away, but he demanded I come to him. He’s being unreasonable.”

“Yeah, what, six weeks apart after getting married, and he’s being unreasonable?” He scoffs.

“I meant tonight. Easton’s giving me an ultimatum, but my dad and I just got on speaking terms a little over an hour ago. I want to go to him, but I can’t. I don’t know what else to do.”

“Yes, you fucking do.”

“We’ve nearly destroyed our families. My future is here, by my father’s side. Inheriting his paper, continuing his legacy. It’s my dream.”

“So, you’re going to destroy your own family before it even has a chance to start?”

“No matter what I fucking do, I can’t seem to make the right choice. Easton’s furious with me. My father’s just now speaking to me. I can’t please either to save my sanity. We made a mistake, and we have to—”

“No, you did, a major one, but not the mistake you think you made. He’s figured it out already. If you don’t come fix this right the fuck now, you’re going to damage your relationship in a way that’s irreparable. His love for you has made him too weak to fucking fight for himself. It’s never going to be right, Natalie, you know that. You’ll never have a fair shot together, but not because of your baggage—and it might not ever be okay, but neither of your lives are going to be bearable if you throw this away. We all know it. Even your fucking selfish parents know it. Yet they go to sleep at night, content with their own fucking choices. Don’t forget, after they successfully separate you, they’ll have each other .”

More tears slide down my cheeks. I feel the truth of his statement weighing on my heart.

“I love him, Benji. He means everything to me.”

“Then it should be crystal clear. Jesus, I’m so goddamn sick of witnessing this over and over again. If that’s the truth, Natalie, then make a choice, make him the priority he deserves to be—give him his rightful fucking place as your husband and partner, which is number fucking one . Stop denying his significance in your life. The box is open now. It can’t be closed.”

“It’s not that simple.”

“It is that simple if you cut everything but what matters most out. I’ve watched my parents tear each other apart due to pride, insecurity, and selfish shit for years. I won’t watch this happen to my brother. You need to figure your shit out now .”

“I’m trying.”

“You’re failing miserably.”

“I would never ask him to give up his relationship with his father or his career for me!”

“That’s the difference between you and him because he would do it without you asking.”

“But he’s not the one in that position to give it up, is he? He doesn’t have to. This is all on me, isn’t it?” I grip the phone. “I warned him, over and over. I told him this would happen, and I seem to be the one paying for it the most!”

Silence.

“Benji?”

“Just got a text from Reid,” he clips out. “He’s with him.”

“Okay,” I nod furiously as my vision blurs. “Okay. Benji . . . listen to me, please. Easton’s not answering for me because he thinks I filed for divorce, so he hung up on me, but I didn’t. My father did it without my knowledge, and the law firm sent the email while we were arguing. He thinks I filed,” I croak. “Benji, are you there?”

Silence greets me for several seconds before, “Then let him think it.”

“What? No! I can’t—”

“The fuck you can’t. Look at what you’ve done to him already! You’re ruining his goddamn life, and he deserves better! You know he does. If you refuse to be the wife he deserves, then at least have the fucking decency to let him go.”

“Benji, please—”

“It seems like you’ve made your decision, Natalie, so stick to it. He made his decision the day you met, and he can’t comprehend, even after this shitshow, how it wasn’t the right one. He chose you, and he’ll never call it a mistake. It’s the hill he’ll die on. I know that much is fucking fact, so if you can’t choose him now, that’s your decision, and make it final. Don’t lead him on any longer, don’t answer his fucking calls, you stop existing for him. I have to go.”

The line goes dead as I lower my phone, my racing mind coming to a dead stop at the truth of the matter as I lose my grip on it. My lifeline slides down my dress and cracks somewhere on the sidewalk, the sound pairing perfectly with my inner destruction.

No matter what I decide to do now, there will be no victor in the war between Butler and Crowne, and there wasn’t in the last, either. The end of our stolen love story was always going to be as I predicted—disastrous. Reason being, Stella had a choice, but I never have.

Even if Easton thinks I do, and Benji thinks I do, even if my father still believes I do—for me, a choice never existed.

Twenty minutes after my father’s toast, when the cake is cut and pictures are taken, I sit across the eight top studying the man I’ve deemed my hero for the entirety of my life. Catching my eye, he stares back at me before tilting his head with a curious look, a grin forming on his lips. Slowly, I lift my cracked phone to him and shake it in prompt. Grin growing, he pulls his own phone from his pocket, playing along. Grabbing my clutch, I walk over to where he sits and reach him just as he opens the email. I press a kiss to his cheek as he curses under his breath and softly whispers my name. Ignoring his attempt to gain my audience for any sort of explanation, I pull back to look him right in the eye. “Congratulations, Daddy. The paper is all yours .”