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Chapter Twenty Two

“Hunter!” I called out. He was headed towards the East gate. I ran and caught up with him, touching his arm.

“Where are you going?” I said.

“I can’t listen to that shitty music anymore,” he said.

“Hunter, we need to talk.”

“There’s nothing to talk about.”

I pulled out my phone.

“You have an IPhone?” he said, watching as I tapped some app buttons. “How the hell did you afford that?”

“How’d you afford a night’s stay at the House of Blues?” I retorted. I watched his face darken.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he said quietly. I held up the picture on my phone.

“Oh, really now. Then how do you explain this?”

Hunter blanched. “Have you been having me followed?”

I laughed. “No, I wouldn’t waste my time or money. We’re staying there tonight; I was walking through the lobby earlier today when I saw…” I waved the phone in the air. I waited for an apology, at least some embarrassment. I didn’t get it.

“Well, what do you expect?” he finally said, all pretenses gone. “Olivia, I have needs.”

I snorted.

“Needs? I could barely get you to “need” me once a month.” I said, making quotations with my fingers to emphasize the word ‘need’. “Don’t blame me,” I continued. “For four years I’ve done nothing but try to be everything for you. You said I was too fat; I went on a diet. You said I was a horrible cook; I took cooking classes for a year. You said college was too expensive; I dropped out. Nothing I ever did was right.” Unwanted tears filled my eyes. “What about me, Hunter? What about my hopes and dreams and needs?”

“You got what you wanted, didn’t you?” he said, smiling sardonically. “You went off with your darling Backstreet Boys. Don’t stand here and tell me there isn’t something going on with Carter. I’m not stupid.”

I lifted my chin slightly. I refused to be brought down.

“You’re right. I won’t lie. I’ve never been happier in my life.” I said. “But I’ll tell you right now that I’ve not crossed the line you have. I had more respect for you than that.” I slipped off my engagement and wedding rings and held them out. “But you never respected me. So, for the first time in my life I’m taking charge. I’m nobody’s doormat. I can’t spend the rest of my life with you.”

He took the rings, turning them over in his hand thoughtfully. Jess came up slowly, hesitating a couple yards away.

“Is everything okay?” she said, her voice shaking nervously.

I turned to look at her.

“I just want to know one thing,” I said taking a few steps in her direction. “How long has this been going on, Jess?

She looked scared. “I don’t know what you mean,” she said, licking her lips.

I held out my phone. “How long has my best friend been sleeping with my husband?” I said quietly.

Jess’s face crumpled. “I’m so sorry, Liv. I didn’t mean—“

“I don’t care,” I said quietly, trying to keep calm. “How long?”

“A year,” she admitted, glancing at Hunter. He looked away. His hand tightened around the rings.

I smiled in disbelief, turning back to Hunter. “A year? A year?” I said, my voice rising an octave. “God, you must have been really proud of yourself.”

From the stage, the guys were just beginning their solo songs. My hands clenched into fists.

“What do you want me to say?” Hunter said loudly over the sound of Drive by Love.

“What does Jess have that I didn’t have?” I asked. “What makes her special enough to spend three hundred dollars on a hotel room when we had to stay at a Motel 8 on our honeymoon?”

Hunter’s smile grew cruel. “You really want to know?” he said, almost teasingly.

“Hunter—“ Jess said. He waved her off.

“Jess is giving me the thing you couldn’t.”

Even though the evening was balmy, my body turned ice cold. I looked at Jess for confirmation.

“I’m pregnant,” Jess said quietly. She couldn’t make eye contact.

The world seemed to stop. I could hear the blood pounding in my ears. I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out.

“Hunter Ryans?”

Through my tormented haze I heard a deep voice with a horrible British accent. My eyes widened to see a guy standing behind Hunter, wearing a dark black running outfit complete with hood and sunglasses. Hunter turned around agitated. Before he could let out a verbal assault, I saw the guy’s fist make direct contact with Hunter’s face. I heard a sickening crunch and watched Hunter drop to the ground.

The guy looked in my direction before disappearing into the crowd. It didn’t take a rocket scientist for me to figure out who it was.

Pandemonium ensued. Bystanders gathered. Jess ran to Hunter, screaming for help. I backed away slowly, my mind numb. I could see blood spurting from Hunter’s nose and he moaned, rolling from side to side. Taking a deep breath, I turned and broke into a run. I jogged on the outskirts of the crowd, flashed my VIP pass quickly and headed backstage.

I ended up locking myself in a bathroom. The tears fell heavily once I closed the door. Sinking to the ground I hit speed dial on my phone. As the phone rang I rocked back and forth, gasping between sobs.

“Hello?” The warm voice felt like a blanket wrapping around me.

“Mommy?” I cried.

And I completely broke down.

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After talking to my mom, I felt slightly better. Even so I decided I just wanted to die in the bathroom. I curled up on the floor, the tears still flowing freely. A long time passed; the floor was no longer vibrating. The concert was over. A few minutes passed.

‘Livvy?”

It was Nick.

“I know you’re in there,” he said. “I’ve checked everyplace else.”

He tried the door. It was locked.

“Will you let me in?”

I don’t know why, but I started sobbing again. I held my knees close to my chest, rocking back and forth.

“Liv, please let me in,” he begged.

“No,” I cried out. I heard a loud sigh from the other side of the door.

“Well, I’m not going anywhere. I’ll be here if you need me,” Nick said. I heard a body sliding down along the other side of the door. I could almost picture him sitting there, his back against the door.

Eventually my sobs faded away, only to be replaced by the worst stomach pain imaginable. Luckily I chose a bathroom; I began to heave the contents of my fruit breakfast into the porcelain bowl. If I hated crying, I hated throwing up even more. Now I knew I was never coming out.

“Livvy?” Nick pounded on the door again. I groaned.

“Go away,” I moaned. I heaved again.

“That’s it,” he said. “Either you let me in or I’m breaking down this door.”

I believed him. I grabbed some toilet paper, wiping my mouth. I unlocked the door.

He pushed the door open slowly, looking down at me. His eyes softened.

“Oh Liv.”

--------------------------------

An hour later I sat in Nick’s hotel room. I watched as he lowered his hand into a bucket of ice cubes. He flinched and turned his head.

“So how’d you hurt your hand again?” I asked. My throat was scratchy; my eyes were raw. I had never cried so much in one day.

“I came through the crowd for my solo and fell getting back on stage. I think I broke my hand,” he said convincingly.

“Was that before or after you broke Hunter’s nose?” I said, leaning back. I was surrounded by a ring of Kleenex.

Nick scowled.

“How do you know that was me?”

"C’mon, Nick. That was the worst British accent I’ve ever heard.” Nick sighed.

“What was I supposed to do? I saw you run off after him.”

“I said I could handle it,” I reminded him crossly.

“How could I stand there when I saw how much he was hurting you? He might not have laid a hand on you, but I know from experience that words can cut deeper than actual physical violence,” Nick said patiently. I looked away.

“How much did you hear?” I said quietly.

“Enough.”

I let out a shaky breath.

Nick slid closer to me, ice bucket and all. He leaned over, his lips gently grazing my forehead. I leaned against him, closing my eyes. Even though we were sitting on the floor, it was the softest floor I had ever sat on.

“You could get arrested if he recognized you,” I said quietly.

“Well,” Nick said thoughtfully. “At least this time it will be for a good cause.”

I sighed. The day’s events had sucked the last of my energy from my body. We both sat in silence, except for the sound of his hand moving the ice cubes around in the bucket.

I remember falling asleep against him. What I don’t remember is him picking me up, broken hand and all, and putting me in bed. I woke the next morning to see him sleeping uncomfortably on the couch.

He did it for me.