Page 210 of Fame & Rhythm

My knees give out, and I sink to the floor, leaning against the bed as sobs rack through me. I don’t even know how long I have been crying. Time disappears into nothing but pain, noise, and breath I can’t seem to catch.

All I know is…

Aston isn’t here.

He’s with her.

Eventually, the tears slow.

Not because I feel better.

Because there is nothing left.

My face is wet, my chest aching, my head pounding as I push myself up and stumble toward the bar fridge.

I need something.

Anything.

I open it and grab every tiny bottle inside, tossing them onto the bed. My hands shake as I pick up the vodka, unscrewing the cap and throwing it aside.

I don’t think.

I just drink.

The burn hits instantly, harsh and unforgiving, but it doesn’t touch the pain in my chest.

I throw the empty bottle at the wall.

It shatters.

Good.

I grab another.

And just as I lift it to my lips—

The door slams open.

Aston.

He looks wrecked.

I swallow the alcohol and, without thinking, throw the bottle at him. He ducks, and it smashes against the door behind him.

“What the hell are you doing?” he snaps.

I laugh bitterly. “Fuck off.”

I reach for another bottle, but he’s already on me, ripping it from my hand. I fight him, but he’s stronger, and he tosses the rest across the room before I can grab them.

I fold my arms, glaring.

“So this is your solution?” he says, frustration bleeding into his voice. “Something goes wrong, and you go straight back to this?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” I bite out. “Should I be calm about the fact you’ve knocked someone up?”

His jaw tightens. “That’s not what—”