*Trisha*

"I don't understand why his blood pressure is still high, Dr. Simms." Jonah and the floor nurse both look to the cardiologist for answers. I thought things would get better with Nate's health. Why aren't they?  Is it the stress? A weight should be lifted off Nate now, but it isn't, and his numbers are letting us know.

"We'll run some more tests. For now, we should focus on getting you up and walking. You will heal quicker by doing so, Mr. Hollan. Increased walking allows for a more accurate assessment of whether your pacemaker is functioning properly."

"I'm all for it," Nate responds, itching to get out of bed.

"Usually we would have our patients walk laps out in the halls, but...." The doctor frowns.

"You know what?" Nate swings his legs over the side of the bed and gingerly stands up. "Fuck it. I'm done."

We all give him a confused look.

"If you want me walking laps up and down the halls so I can recover quicker, then I'm walking laps up and down the halls so I can recover quicker. I'm done with this. Trisha, tie the back of this thing."

 I pull at his hospital gown to tie it, but get a glimpse of that cute naked ass first. God, this man is perfect.

"Nate, you can't just leave this room without everyone going crazy and-" I start, but he cuts me off right away.

"I should be able to recover just like everyone else. Let them see me. Let them take pictures of me. I don't care anymore, Trish. I'm done."

The doctor turns to me, a little dumbfounded, but I don't know what to say to this. When Nate gets something in his head, there is no stopping him.

"I'll have Evan with me as my bodyguard. Jonah can walk with me to make sure I'm strong enough. I don't want to be cooped up in here. If there are fans in the halls, I will greet them."

"What about reporters, sir?" Evan asks with concern. 

"You're gonna cause chaos, Nate." I remind Nate. "That naked ass alone-"

"I'm a fucking human being. If reporters get to me and want to film... whatever. I don't even care anymore, Trish. They're gonna find a way regardless. They always do." Nate's eyes begin to water. He IS done.  This scare got to him. It got to ALL of us. "This is my second chance. Maybe my final chance. I want to heal. I wanna get better and live longer than my dad did. Getting this pacemaker in... Jesus.."

 I  quickly move around so I'm in front of Nate and pull him into a hug, letting him hide his face in my shoulder so no one sees his tears. He hates being emotional in front of others, so I knew this is what he needs from me right now.

"Getting this pacemaker in...It was the final straw." His voice cracks, and I hold him tighter. This was the final straw for Nate. Things need to change. I need to find a fucking way for things to change for him. But what? A vacation when the tour is over? Go back home to London after we hit every state here? Will Richard even let him, or will he want him to start focusing on the Safe Haven music video with Mila when the tour is complete?

I feel lost and like I've completely lost control, which is so unlike me. How did it get to this point where Richard just walks all over Nate without a second thought? I should've stood up to him years ago, but I didn't, did I? Instead, I let him walk all over me, too.

I'm ripped from my thoughts when my phone goes off.

Paul.

Something is wrong. Paul rarely calls me these days. He's so wrapped up with Moretti that he barely reaches out to anyone anymore. I walk into the bathroom and close the door before answering, so I have some privacy.

"Hey, Paulie. How's it going over there?" I ask in a softer-than-normal voice.

"How's Nate?" Paul's voice sounds worried, tired, pained. Nate is family to him. Of course, this is gonna affect the bodyguard, too. He's miles away and, like me, used to being in control. I can't imagine how he must be feeling.

"He's actually doing ok. He's gonna start walking up and down the halls. Don't worry. Evan is with him." I add quickly so I don't worry Paul about things he has no control over.

"Good."

There's a moment of silence, which isn't uncommon with Paul, who is a fucking mute half the time, but he called me.

"You good over there, hotpants?" I  pull myself up to the counter and sit down, ready to listen. That is- if Paul is ready to talk.

"I fucked up, Trish." He mutters. Shit. Something DID happen.

"Paul. Talk..."

"I needed to blow off steam. I left the Avalon. Had Mike Maloney watch over Moretti for me."

"Ok, nothing wrong with that, Paul. You need to be able to leave that fucking prison whenever you damn well choose. I knew this would get old for you."

"No. That's not what I'm talking about, Trish. I went to Sully's. Got myself fucking hammered and Julia left the Avalon to bring me home."

Fucking A.  One, Paul rarely gets drunk- again, the whole needing to be in control thing. Two, he is supposed to be watching over Julia, not her watching over him. She actually left the Avalon to go get him??? He was that plastered? He's holding on by a thread, isn't he?

Not only that... if Julia got caught, it would mean a hefty fine as punishment. Nate is the one who pays for the Avalon, and now she's just piled on a huge bill for him to handle, hasn't she? Is that why Paul is calling? This is just another source of stress. Even from 3,000 miles away, Julia is still managing to cause Nate trouble.

"Did Julia get caught by that Dr. Cohen lady??" I ask.

"No. Jeremy covered for her."

Of course he did. He's obsessed with Julia. So why the hell is Paul calling me?

"What's going on, Paul?"

"Dave was at Sullivan's."

My shoulders fall and my heart drops when I hear this news. 

"He was drinking?" I shouldn't give two shits about my ex after everything he's done, but I do. He fell off the wagon. He was working hard to stay sober. I saw him working hard. He had a sponsor, was going to The Avalon for treatment. Dave was getting back on his feet.

"He was wasted, Trish. I was wasted. I should have been keeping an eye on Julia, and I didn't. I didn't fucking do my job," Paul's voice is full of disappointment. In himself. Oh my God, did Julia sleep with Dave or something? Wouldn't put it past her. But Drunk Dave is not a nice person. Not at all.

"What happened??" 

"Apparently, Brennan followed Julia into the women's restroom."

Oh no. No no no no.... I feel panicky. I feel nervous. I feel....memories coming back to me.

******

"You're not just gonna walk away from me, Trish. That's not how this works." Dave was drunk out of his mind. Following me into the women's bathroom at Sully's? Not cool.

"Get outta here. You're sloshed. Between you and Nate, I don't know who is worse. I have to babysit you both now?" I looked at Drunk Dave in the mirror. His face flushed, his breath reeked of whiskey, and his eyes. Jesus, his eyes were so dark in that moment. Angry.

"Baby, I want you back. You know I do." He stood behind me and whispered in my ear. I closed my eyes, taking in his scent. My addiction. Why can't I  ever walk away from him?

"Not like this, I don't." I breathed out when he grazed his lips up my neck. His hands were on my hips, under my shirt, slowly making their way up to feel my body.

"Then help me. Help me get sober."

"Dave, what are you doing? Get off me." I shoved his hands away. I should have known better. Drunk Dave doesn't take rejection well. He proved it that night in the bathroom. I ended up with two stitches above my eyebrow and a bill to replace the mirror I supposedly "shattered while drunk." Apparently, I was so wasted I "fell" into the mirror and cut my head open.

I hid the bruises on my wrists from him holding me too tight and winced every time I sat down for three days straight.

******

The memory is so vivid that my body begins to tremble. I covered for Dave. Over and over, I covered for him, thinking I could help him. He just needed someone on his side. I wasn't gonna give up on him. 

I never told anyone what really happened that night. Not Nate. Not anyone.

"That sonofabitch." I mumble into the phone. "Did he...." I can't even bring myself to say the word.

"He cornered Julia. Told her she was the reason you and he aren't together. Some shit about how she should have stayed with Nate so he could have you."

"What? That doesn't even make sense!" I quickly realize my voice is getting louder and reel myself in. "Did he... get physical with her?"

"A little. He was about to, but a group of women walked in, so he backed off, pretending he hadn't realized he was in the ladies' room. Total bullshit." Paul explains. I let out the breath I was holding and take another deep breath to refill my lungs. "None of that would have happened if I were doing my fucking job."

Fuck. Paul is blaming himself for this...I know he is. I know him too well. He takes his job very seriously, and perfection has always been his top priority.

"Do not fucking do that, Paulie. You hear me? I know you. You're gonna fucking blame yourself when guess what... you're not the one to blame. You should be allowed to burn off some steam. You can't be a bodyguard 24/7 for the rest of your life without having breaks. What Dave did..." I pause and shake my head to myself. "It's such a Dave thing to do. That bastard hasn't changed one bit."

He really hasn't. Dave needs a lot of help. Not just for his substance abuse for his abuse in general. When he is drunk, he becomes violent. He turns into a different person. Kind of like how Jeremy turned into a different person when he did what he did to Moretti. Maybe Dave has some sort of similar mental instability or some shit. I don't know, and I don't want to know. He just needs to stay far the hell away from me. Because he IS my addiction and I WILL give in to him to try to help him get back on his feet.

I can't let that happen.

******