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He deserves better than this, but don’t I, also?

I’m terrible.

I’m suffocating.

“Hey, hey. What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

A gentle hand brushes my hair from my face, then settles on my back. I open my eyes and run right into warm, amber gemstones full of concern.

“Do I need to call Ham?”

Mabel’s lying beside me on the bathroom floor, and I’m awash with both gratitude and shame. I woke her. I’m embarrassed. But I’m also really glad she’s here. Her kindness is a soothing balm, and the painful pounding of my thoughts starts to dull.

I swallow roughly, then shake my head. “No. It’s fine. I’ll be fine.”

“What happened? You want to talk about it?”

I shake my head again. “I’m sorry I woke you.”

“You didn’t. I have to pee,” she says it with a smirk, and I huff out a laugh as her fingers trail from my back to my head. She pushes a few strands of hair behind my ear, gaze falling to my tear-painted lips. “That’s better. Is there anything I can do?”

I run my eyes over her bare face. I retreated to the bedroom almost immediately after dinner last night. Caveat and Heartless had a tour meeting. I had a date with a book and my pillow. I fell asleep before Mabel made it back to the suite. The last time I saw her, she had a full face of makeup. Now, there’s not a stich of cosmetics to be seen, and it feels intimate. Vulnerable.Real.Even first thing in the morning, she’s strikingly beautiful, and it takes me a moment to realize she’d asked me a question.

“No. I’m okay.”

She arches a brow, and I roll my eyes with another laugh.

“Fine. I’m not okay, but I will be. I don’t want to talk about it. Not yet.”

Mabel purses her lips, then smiles. It’s soft and heartbreakingly sweet.

“I’m no stranger to the occasional crash out, Roar. I’m here if you need me, okay? Even if you just want to vent. I’ll nod and agree with everything you say.” Her eyes narrow playfully. “Unless you start talking shit about yourself. Then we’ll have to tussle.”

I laugh for a third time, this one fuller and even more genuine than the last. Somehow, in just sixty seconds, she’s made everything hurt less.

I’m here if you need me, she said. It’s been a while since I’ve heard those words. Even longer since I’ve believed them. Right now, on this cold tile floor in Adelaide, I believe Mabel. I nod and wipe my eyes.

“Thank you, Susan Ainsley Mabel Rossi,” I say with a smile. “That means a lot.”

It means more than you could possibly know.

“Anytime, Aurora...Hey, wait. What’s your full name?”

“Aurora Jade Hammond.”

I answer on impulse, and I don’t realize I gave her my maiden name until she frowns. Her next question comes out tentatively, with a forced lightness that makes my skin prickle.

“Did you not change your last name? You’re married, right?”

“Oh.” I break our eye contact, bouncing my attention to her ear, her forehead, her chin. Anywhere but those warm amber irises. Anywhere but her pouty pink lips. “No. I mean, yes. Yes, I changed my name.”

I didn’t want to change my last name. It was a tie to my family that I didn’t want to sever after their deaths, but it was important to Brady.

I’m your family now, he’d said.You need to move forward with me.

I try so hard not to look at Mabel, but I can feel her eyes on me—fixed intently, searching—as if she can see the confessions screaming from inside my head. Like a magnet, my eyes are drawn to hers, and when our stares snap together, goose bumps rise on my skin. She trails her fingers up and down my back, her bare arm resting on mine, and when she speaks, the question doesn’t fit her tone. Her voice is soft and kind, but the wordsfeelhostile.

“What’s your husband’s last name, then? The one on your passport.”