I don't know what to do to fix this, hell I don't even know if it is fixable. Normally someone who works for me would come along and sort out the trail of destruction I'd left in my wake but this was a little too personal for that. I needed to be a man and put this shit right myself.
Disgusted with myself doesn't even cover it but there's also an anger building for some reason my brain has automatically pointed its long, pointy finger at her husband, he must have done this to her, hurt her in some way, it must be him, why would she be seeking comfort from another man if he wasn't hurting her.
Why I acted that way, in that moment, maybe it was because her scars made her seem so vulnerable, despite her being short and tiny she’s always been tough and ballsy around me and to think something or someone hurt her makes my blood boil. I couldn’t find a way to express myself in the moment, was I dreaming. It made her real. Never thought about her life or things that may have hurt her in the past the first few times we were together but gradually those thoughts crept in and my heart felt heavy, weighed my body down. She was no longer perfect but then who was.
I reacted badly by not reacting at all.
Laying back on my bed I tried to fall asleep but images of her hurt face and scarred body plagued me, taunting me with the fact I'd acted like a complete dick. There was little chance of sleeping tonight, my phone rang again beside me on the bedside table, six missed calls from Denaun and two text messages indicating that Viv had gone to Jane's house when she'd left here and also indicating that he was there too. I didn't read them or answer him, didn't want to hear from someone else the things I was already telling myself. I was a shit.
I was an ass hole didn't need anybody else to tell me that. I didn't mean for her to leave in that way but I didn't know what to say to her, I was shocked but now that the shock had passed I wanted her back here with me, to talk to her, find out what happened to her.
Picking up my phone again I dialled her phone number, not even thinking for one moment she'd answer but she did, she never said a word but I could hear her soft breathing and it gave me a brief moment of comfort that I really didn't deserve to feel, "I'm sorry" I whisper down the phone to her catching the unmistakable sound of a sob before she hangs up on me. It does nothing to ease the guilt I feel or the aching in my chest.
I get to the studio next morning hours before anyone else gets there, not that I'm productive at all I just sit turning slowly in my chair wondering how in the hell to put things right and how to do that when I can't even see her for another week.
Paul's booming voice is the next thing I hear, breaking me out of my torturous thoughts. I'd forgotten he was visiting to go over tour plans for next year with me, this was all I needed. He'd see through me and be questioning me all day, I really couldn't cope with this right now.
"Morning Princess" he shouts happily at me, laying his papers out on the desk next to me, expecting me to return his happy greeting instead I watch as he glances over at me before frowning, which is really hard for him with all that filler pumped into his fucking forehead.
"Why the long face? Did someone run over your favorite cat?" sarcastic mother fucker.
"He's embarrassed about his behaviour last night, least he should be anyway" chimes in Porter, stepping out from behind Paul, he's literally come out of nowhere.
He glares at me, don't remember the last time he looked at me like he was going to kill me but this look definitely threatened imminent death.
"What's he talking about Marshall?" he leans back against the mixing desk, arms folded across the expanse of his chest, giving me a stern look while he waited for me to answer him.
