Chapter Fifty-Two
Paige
This was meant to be over by now.
I thought, two days, three, tops, and I’d be done being sad.
Cry it out, breathe, then move the fuck on.
But apparently, heartbreak doesn’t come with a deadline.
Because it still sits in my chest, full and heavy, impossible to ignore, like someone just stilled a wrecking ball on my ribs and told me to pretend it doesn’t hurt.
His texts are still there, some unread, but all unanswered, the number at the top of the icon increasing daily.
I don’t have the strength to open them, can’t bring myself to read them.
Not when every time I think of Maddox or that last diary entry, something inside me caves in.
Not all at once, but in slow, cracking pieces I can’t hold together.
Two souls colliding.
I think she might be right.
I knew I was falling for him, but I think I fell for Maddox more than I ever let myself believe.
And now the one person I would have spoken to about all of this is no longer here, and I’ve never felt this fucking alone. It’s like yelling into a canyon and only hearing silence yell back. Even Olive’s walking on eggshells around me, her pitying looks driving me up the wall.
Well, I didn’t ask her to come, didn’t want her to, but like the good best friend she is, she didn’t take no for an answer.
Shutting the apartment door behind me, I drop my bag and kick off my shoes. My keys clatter against the counter as I walk into the kitchen, grab a spoon from the drawer and the half-eaten ice cream tub from the freezer, then head to the couch and sink down with a grunt.
Wallowing is getting old. The tiptoeing my parents were doing around me was getting old too. And now, being back in my own space, the silence isn’t as comforting as I thought it’d be.
It’s loud in a different way.
I’m halfway through my first bite when there’s a knock at the door. I wait, spoon paused mid-air, hoping the unwanted guest will just leave. Olive has a key, so if she’s back from wherever she went, she can let herself in.
But it happens again, harder this time. Groaning, I set the tub on the coffee table and drag myself up. I don’t even bother checking the peephole, assuming it’s either Mom or Dad. But when I throw open the door, I come up short.
Beau stands in the hallway, hands shoved in his jeans pockets, shoulders tense like he isn’t sure he should be here at all.
I blink. “How the hell did you get my address?”
He doesn’t get a chance to answer when Eli comes into view, his blond hair disheveled, his boyish grin firmly in place. “Hey, Drummer Girl.”
I sigh, leveling him with a stare. “Why–”
“Boys, I told you to let me go first,” Olive says, pushing through them and letting herself inside.
“I thought you were going for a walk?” I ask as she heads through my apartment, picking up the ice cream tub with disdain before taking it to the kitchen.
“I did,” she calls out from the other room, dusting her hands down her jeans when she returns. “I walked to their place.”
“It doesn’t take three hours to walk…” I trail off when Eli smirks and Beau’s cheeks tinge pink. Rolling my eyes, I leave the door open, walking away from my bandmates. “Whatever.”
As the guys step inside, Eli glances around the place with a low whistle while Beau closes the door.
“Just hear them out,” Olive whispers, coming behind me and placing her chin on my shoulder.
“If you guys came here to play therapist, I already have one.” I shrug her off and throw myself onto my couch.
“We’re not,” Eli says, sitting behind the drum kit set up in the corner, the one I record my videos on.
Beau turns to me. “I came here to say I was wrong.”
“And I came here to tell you to come home,” Eli says, lightly tapping on the snare drum. “We miss you, Paige. We’re not a family without you.”
That renders me silent, my goddamn eyes burning again.
Olive nudges Beau like they’ve been discussing this. Exhaling through his nose, he rubs the back of his neck. “You know I love you, and Maddox is like a brother to me, but you two together? I thought you’d be a disaster waiting to happen. I thought it’d blow up and take everything down with it.”
I huff, rolling my eyes. “Well, it kind of did.”
“Not like I thought, though.” He gives me this look, one I think is one of shame.
“After Penny died,” Eli says, heading over and sitting on the coffee table in front of me.
“Maddox sort of lost himself, in more ways than we actually knew.” He glances back at Beau, lowering his head.
“We had no idea how much he was carrying, and that’s on us.
We should’ve noticed how he buried himself in the band, stopped going out, spent every second locked away writing.
Then Austin quit right when we found out about the Reign tour, and I think it was just too much. ”
“But then you came along,” Beau continues, like they rehearsed which parts of the story they’d tell.
“And I’d be lying if I said that didn’t scare me.
I mean, he’d been burning himself out for the band, and if anything went wrong between you two…
” He exhales hard. “I knew he wouldn’t cope.
So, I was the one who told him to end it, focus on the dream. And I’m sorry, Paige.”
Beau’s eyes roam around my apartment, pausing when they land on the framed photo on my bookshelf. One of Penny and me, the summer before she died. He walks over to it, his hand raised like he’s about to touch it, only he stops, hand dropping to his side, his shoulders sagging as he sighs.
“The night at the bar.” He continues, keeping his back to me for a beat before he turns.
“We’ve never seen him like that. Ever. I thought you and him were just fucking around.
But the way he looked when he found you…
The way he paced outside the hotel room and didn’t leave your side the whole night, I knew. You make him better.”
There’s a weight in his voice I didn’t expect, like he’s only just now understanding Maddox too. I swallow hard, my throat raw. I haven’t let myself think about that night. Not really. Not able to stand the gaps in my memory.
Eli leans closer, voice quieter now. “He’s barely spoken since we got back. And then he disappeared for a day. Just…” He clicks his fingers. “Gone.”
I look at each of them in turn. “I know. He went to the cemetery.”
Beau nods, like that confirms something. “Makes sense. He did come back…different. Still quiet, but lighter, I guess. Like he’d finally laid something to rest he’d been carrying too long. And I don’t think it was just about Penny.”
I press my lips together to hide the tremble in my chin.
“Babe, I don’t think it ever was about her,” Olive says, lowering beside me and taking my hand. “That night I came to see you play, I saw the way he looked at you, like he couldn’t believe how lucky he was.”
“He should’ve told me,” I say flatly, even as my chest aches.
“I agree.”
“Any of you could’ve said something,” I say, gaze snapping to the guys.
“We didn’t think it was our place,” Eli says, but winces when I glare at him.
“We tried to get him to tell you,” Beau adds.
“But Maddox…he doesn’t let people in. You know that better than anyone.
” He looks at Eli, regret etching onto his face.
“We didn’t know what was best. Either we hurt Maddox by going behind his back and forcing his hand.
Or we hurt you by telling you the truth.
Either way, someone was always going to get hurt, regardless, and the band would pay the price. ”
I scoff. “Yeah, well. Too late now.”
“Is it?” Beau looks at me, his eyebrows pinched together.
“Look, I’m not here to fix this. I’m not here to tell you what to do when it comes to him.
I just… I’ve never seen him like this. Not even close.
And yeah, it was selfish of him to keep it from you, selfish of me and Eli too, but if I thought I was the reason someone lost their sister?
I don’t know if I’d have had the balls to say anything either. ”
The words land heavy. He’s not wrong, but it doesn’t stop it from hurting.
“He’s not the same guy who sat in that audition and glared at everyone,” Eli adds. “You cracked him open in ways no one else ever could.”
“There’s a live going up at nine,” Beau says. “You should watch it.”
“Why?”
The three of them share a look, and I frown. Since when did Olive share looks with the guys? Standing, her hand slips out of mine as I squeeze past Eli’s legs, my knees knocking his as I make my way toward the hallway.
“Paige, where are you going?” Olive asks, concern in her tone.
“Back to bed,” I say, suddenly exhausted.
“Babe, wait, talk to us.”
I shake my head, because what’s there to say?
“What are you going to do?” she asks. “Are you going to watch it or not?”
I lift one shoulder, exhaling loudly. “I don’t know."
Closing my bedroom door, I lean against the wood, the ache in my chest back tenfold. Muffled voices filter from the living room, no doubt talking about me, but I don’t care. Not when the phone in my hoodie pocket is like a lead brick.
I was telling the truth when I said I didn’t know if I’ll join the live, but my hand touches the device even though it’s there. Just in case.