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I stop to plug in my earbuds, hoping the music will drown out my thoughts. My lungs are on fire by the time the house comes into view. I jog up the driveway, and then do some stretches before trying to get much needed air back in my lungs.

I release a disgruntled exhale and run a hand through my sweat-drenched hair. Falling in love is a dangerous game, as Lizzie stated; someone usually gets hurt. But for me? I know it’s already too late. She fucking owns me, black heart and all. And I’ve just made the biggest decision of my life. No music, no amount of muscle fatigue, and no internal argument could change my mind.

I’m going to ask her to move in with me. I need her by my side.

MY HEART SQUEEZES as I drive away from Noah’s. I hate this. Leaving the arms of the man who holds my heart and doesn’t have a clue is breaking me.

I love him. My heart should have been more guarded. But Noah is raw, passionate, and gentle with it. It stood no chance. The first time I met him I knew he’d be trouble if I let him get close. And he is. He’s under my skin and in the air I breathe. He consumes me.

And now, Mac’s home. Everything’s one great big mess. I should have sorted everything out sooner, but I thought I had time. That’s all been shot to hell now.

My phone rings and I glance at the name on the screen. Mac’s manager. Does the man have no concept of time? I answer on hands-free.

“Joseph?”

“Elizabeth. I need to discuss a few things with you.”

I listen to what he has to say and give very little response to him. Every word he utters makes my chest hurt. By the time he ends the call I can hardly breathe.

Oh, God. What am I going to do?

Needing to hear a friendly voice and talk things through, I call Boo. My pulse races while I dial her number, put her on speakerphone, and wait for her to answer.

She picks up on the third ring. “Hey, hun. What’s up?” Her voice is groggy.

I glance at the clock; it’s only seven in the morning. “Sorry, did I wake you?”

“Yeah. It’s okay. What’s wrong?”

“Mac’s home.”

“Oh? Shit.” She always has a way with words, but she sounds more awake.

“What am I going to do?” Panic consumes me. I don’t want him home. I don’t want to pretend we’re something we’re not. I fight the tears threatening to fall.

“Why the hell is he back?” she whisper-yells.

“I just had a call from his manager. They cancelled the rest of the tour. He needs to go into rehab.”

“Oh, right. Well it’s about time. Um… I’m not sure what you should do, hun. What do you want to do?”

“I want to leave him. What else would you think I’d want?”

“Then why haven’t you already?”

Her question isn’t meant to hurt, but it does anyway. I’ve asked myself the same thing a million times over in the three rings it took her to answer. “Because while he was on tour I could pretend he didn’t exist most of the time. Now he’s back and they’re telling me I can’t leave him. They said they’d get me fired. Run a smear campaign. Anything to wreck my life.” I release a stressed sigh. “But it’s even more complicated than ever now, isn’t it?”

“That’s utter bollocks, Lizzie, and you know it. It’s impossible for them to have that kind of influence. Don’t let them bully you. Did you tell Noah yet?”

There’s no need for me to ask her to elaborate, because I know exactly what she’s asking. My stomach clenches, adding to the heightened stress already swirling rampant in my body. “No.”

“Why the hell not, Lizzie? That’s just stupid. He needs to know.”

“I’m waiting for the right time.”

“Do you love him?”

“Yes.” It comes out as an almost whisper frightened by how much I do.

“Well, he loves you, right?”

This morning his tense body told me a million things he’s never said. I don’t need the words from him. I never will. It’s in the way he looks at me. Even how he holds my hand. The small things, which tells me he loves me, even if he doesn’t realise it.

“Yes, I think so. He’s never told me. But I get the feeling he does… He asked me to leave Mac.” He didn’t let me walk away, even when it would have been so easy for him to say goodbye.

“Yeah. He loves you.” She laughs a little and for a second I start to smile. “So, there’s no issue with that.”

“There’s a huge issue.” My voice rises with the twisting in my heart.

“Okay, take some deep breaths. It’ll be okay. Where are you?”

“I’ve just left Noah’s.”

“Mac’s home and you’re not there? You had a call from his manager? Where do they think you are? It’s seven in the morning.”

“They think I’m on my way back from your place.”

“That’s okay then.” I hear her exhale. “But would it be so bad to let him find out?”

I’ve never told Boo about Mac’s violent behaviour, too ashamed to admit I live like that. She only knows about his addictions. “Yes.”

“Hmm… Hun, you’re just going to have to leave him. They can’t blackmail you to make you stay. What’s the worst thing that could happen?”

I think about her question. This is why I needed to talk to her. She can see the sense in things I can’t. “Nothing, I guess. Maybe it’ll make me look a little heartless, but I’ve always tried to stay out of that side of his life anyway. And, I’m bloody good at my job.”

“Exactly. Plus, you’ve never craved the fame. You’re sort of faceless to the media. So playing the ‘you can’t leave him now even if you want to’ card isn’t really a threat, is it?”

“No. I guess not.” The pressure inside me starts to subside. Boo’s common sense gives me hope.

“Okay, good. Go leave him.” I can hear the smile in her voice. “And then go claim the other one by the balls. He seems to make you happy.”

“Thanks, Boo.”

“I only told you what you already knew you wanted… Lizzie?”

“Yes?”

“Why would they tell you that you couldn’t leave him? I mean that’s coming out of left field, don’t you think?”

“I hadn’t thought about it. But I guess they must know things aren’t good between us.”

“It seems a bit weird, though.”

“I suppose. But they think they can run everything. They always have. Look, I’ve got to go. I’m pulling up to the house. Love you.”

“Love you, too, hun. Good luck.”

The call clicks off as I draw to a halt. I stare at the large house in front of me. Coming back here only reminds me of what I want to forget and why I want to leave. The house is cold and empty, although it’s pretty enough. Looks can be deceiving. I’ve stayed away as much as possible while Mac’s been gone. Either camping out at Boo’s or in Noah’s bed.

I grab my purse and search for my keys to let myself in.

When I walk inside, the house is deathly quiet. Unusual for when Mac’s home. He normally turns every TV on. His creative brain is unable to cope with silence. I place my purse and keys down in the hallway and walk into the lounge.

A dishevelled Mac sits with his head hung low. When he lifts his gaze to mine the hatred I see there makes me take a step back.

“What’s this?” he snarls at me.

My throat tightens and my heart rate increases tenfold.

In his hand he holds a small white piece of plastic. Even though he’s not meant to be home yet, it was stupid of me to leave it in the bathroom waste bin. I can’t bring myself to answer, because it’s obvious what it is. A pregnancy test.

“Who have you been fucking, Liz? Because it sure as hell isn’t me.” He sneers, spit flying from his mouth. He wipes it away and laughs; it’s twisted, hateful. “Don’t bother fucking lying because I already know who it is. Are you really that stupid?”