“FELICITY!” I pound the door so hard, my knuckles go bloody. “Please, baby, open up. Let me explain.”

There’s no answer.

“It’s not what you think,” I say, voice breaking as my forehead comes down to rest against the wood. “I swear…”

God, I sound pathetic.

I am pathetic.

I knock again, softer this time. “Felicity. Please. Talk to me.”

Lincoln and Aiden wander in, eyes wide as they take in the scene. Aiden, as always, is all too perceptive. The expression on his face tells me he knows exactly what’s going on, in that bathroom.

“What’s the deal?” Linc asks in a murmur. “Is she okay? Are you okay?”

I turn back to the door, hands braced against the frame. I can feel my heart racing at twice its normal speed as my ears strain for signs of life.

“Felicity, I’m getting worried. It’s been twenty minutes.” I swallow hard. “If you don’t open the door or at least let me know you’re okay, I’m taking it off the damn hinges.”

There’s no answer.

Running my hands through my hair in exasperation, I turn to face the guys. “I think you two should go on ahead, without us.”

“Dude. It’s the fucking Wildwood launch party.” Linc pauses. “We can’t show up without Wilde or Woods.”

“You’re going to have to,” I snap. “I’m not leaving her behind.”

He holds up his hands in a defensive move, turns on a heel, and walks out.

Aiden lingers for a moment. “Tell her I’m sorry for my part in it.”

I watch him leave, jaw ticking rhythmically as I clench and unclench my teeth. I can’t believe how out of control things have gotten. I can’t believe I’m standing outside my own bathroom, shouting till my voice goes hoarse and banging till my skin breaks, because the woman I love has locked herself away from me.

Over and over, I replay the haunted look on her face when she asked me what was in the bag — like she was staring at someone she’d never seen before in her life. Someone untrustworthy.

I sit down with my spine against the door, lean my head back to the wood, and wait. At least fifteen minutes tick by in total silence. There’s nothing I can say to reach her. Nothing I can do with a door between us. So, I use the only option I have left at my disposal. I start to sing the song I wrote her months ago, back before we came here, when life was simpler. When we were simpler — two foolish kids falling in love too fast, with no fucking clue where this crazy road would take us.

“Why would I tear you apart when I could walk away?

Why would I tell you the truth is, I just want to stay?”

My low, rasping words vibrate with every feeling buried inside me. All the things I’d like to say to her, all the truths I need to admit, but can’t find the words to speak.

“Wasn’t till I left that it hit me…

I was in love… with a girl named Felicity…”

The door yanks open abruptly and I fall backwards, bashing my head against the bathroom tile. I stare up at her, hovering over me. Her eyes are red from crying, her pretty makeup streaked and ruined.

“You can’t just sing that and hope it fixes everything,” she tells me in a broken voice. “Pretty lyrics won’t do anything to resolve this.”

“They got you to open the door,” I point out softly, sitting up. I rub the back of my head. Holy fuck that hurt. I’m going to have a bump the size of an egg.

Climbing to my feet, I see she’s backed away from me, creating as much distance as possible between us in the small bathroom. When I take a step, she throws up a hand to still my motion.

“No.” Her slender neck convulses as she swallows harshly.

“Okay.” My voice is shredded. It’s fucking killing me that the girl I love is standing there, afraid to let me get too close. Afraid to let me near her.

What the fuck have I done?

“Tell me about the drugs, Ryder.”

I tense. “They’re nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“Just relaxers, to take the edge off when I’m feeling anxious.” I shift from foot to foot. “It’s like taking something for a headache.”

“No, it’s really not.” Her head shakes. “Because you don’t hide Tylenol from your girlfriend. And this stuff you’re taking doesn’t exactly come from a drug store.”

“If you’d just hear me out—”

“Okay,” she whispers, a tear streaking down her cheek. “Explain it to me. Justify it to me. Tell me why I should believe you.” Her voice cracks. “Tell me how I managed to be stupid enough fall in love with an addict, after I spent my whole life trying to get away from the two who raised me.”

I feel my heart drop to my feet. Pieces start clicking into place — her estrangement from her parents, living with her Gran as a kid, the fact that she doesn’t drink or touch drugs or even enjoy being around them.

“Felicity… God, Felicity, you never told me. How was I supposed to know? If I’d known…”

“What? You wouldn’t have started popping Percocet pills like candy? Or you would’ve been more careful to hide them from me, so I didn’t find out?”

I flinch as though she’s struck me. “No. No. I’m not an addict, okay? They’re just—”

“To take the edge off. Right.” She laughs hollowly. “I can’t believe I didn’t see this coming. I missed every sign. I’m such an idiot.”

“Every sign?” I snap, feeling anger surge inside me. “What are you talking about?”

“Have you looked in a mirror, lately? Have you slept, lately?” Her eyes are wide. “When was the last time you ate a meal — a real, actual meal?”

My nostrils flare. “I’m stressed about the album. I’ve had a lot on my plate.”

“Right. So have I — especially with you missing interviews and bailing on our meetings with Francesca. Every time I turn around to look for you, you’re not there. And it breaks my heart, Ryder, because until recently… I never even had to look. I just knew you would be.”

“Felicity…” My chest feels so heavy, I can hardly draw a breath. I’m trying like hell to keep my voice even, but I don’t think I succeed. “I’m sorry, okay? If I could go back in time and fix this, I would. If I could tear my fucking heart from my chest and hand it to you on a silver platter, I’d do that too.” I take a small step closer to her and, this time, she doesn’t throw up her hands to stop me. Her eyes are still wary, but her mouth has gone soft.

“Baby,” I appeal, so quiet it’s barely audible. “Let me fix this. Let me fix us.”

“How?”

“I didn’t know this was such an issue for you. Now that I do, I’ll stop.” My palms feel sweaty with nerves, my hands keyed up and jittery. “If it’s a choice between you and some pills… I choose you, Felicity. I choose you every goddamned time. From now until forever.”

She blinks. “You’ll stop.”

“I’ll stop.”

“Just like that?” she asks, voice quavering.

“Yeah.” My Adam’s apple bobs. “Like I said, I’m not addicted.”

I’m not.

She stares at me, long and hard, then reaches out and flushes the toilet. I lurch forward in time to see all my pills swirl down the drain in a vortex. A pang of panic shoots through my bloodstream as I watch them disappear. I try to tamp it down, telling myself exactly what I just told her.

I’m not addicted.

I don’t need them.

When I look up into her eyes, she’s watching my face with such acute pain, I just want to pull her into my arms and kiss her for hours, until no trace of it remains. Until the darkness spreading between us has been sucked out like poison.

“We’re late for the party. We should probably go,” she murmurs, grabbing a tissue and slowly wiping the mascara from beneath her eyes. “I’ll fix my makeup in the car.”

I give a frigid nod, then extend my hand. My heart stops beating as I wait for her to take it. There’s a long, frozen moment when I think she’s going to ignore me… but eventually, she laces her fingers with mine and squeezes lightly. My heart resumes pumping as we walk out of the bathroom together.

I’ll fix this.

I have to fix this.

There’s no other choice.