Page 108 of Every Shattered Note
MustLoveMusic:Not just for the beach.Not just for what we say here.For you.The real thing.You and your coffee addiction.You and your bossy voice.You with your mouth on mine.You, driving me absolutely insane.
AlyEuphoriaEvents:Dex ...
MustLoveMusic:I mean it.I want your bad days.Your sarcastic texts.Your three A.M.breakdowns—if you have them.I want to hear you laugh when you’re happy and fall asleep with your leg over mine.I want you in ways I don’t even know how to write into lyrics yet.
AlyEuphoriaEvents:You’re not playing fair.
MustLoveMusic:Not trying to.I’m just done pretending I don’t want more than this screen.You still thinking about me while you catch your breath?
AlyEuphoriaEvents:...yeah.And I’m not pretending either.
MustLoveMusic:Hope the fish situation gets sorted soon.Eddie says he knows a caterer who’s going to call you.
AlyEuphoriaEvents:You’re with people while we were ...
MustLoveMusic:No.Just called him after.He wants to know what else you need.
AlyEuphoriaEvents:You sent Maison Parra to replace the other caterer.Dex—they’re gorgeous and wildly out of budget.I can’t afford them.
MustLoveMusic:I can.Take it as a gift.I don’t want my girl stressing over someone else’s salmon disaster.
AlyEuphoriaEvents:Your girl?
MustLoveMusic:Yeah.Unless you’re blocking me now?
AlyEuphoriaEvents:...no blocking.
MustLoveMusic:Good.Chat soon.
ChapterForty-Four
Dexter
March 6, 2001
“Tell me again why I shouldn’t sue every last one of these parasites into extinction.”
That’s the first thing out of my mouth when I walk into the conference room.I should at least pretend.Nod.Say good morning.Ask if there’s coffee—maybe even whiskey—because it’s five in the fucking morning and I’ve been awake since three, staring at the ceiling, thinking about all the things I can’t undo.
But I don’t.
Because pretending has never saved me.
And I’m done performing for people who only ever watch to see when I’ll break.
I’ve managed to avoid drinking through this entire shitstorm.No rehab headlines.No anonymous check-ins at luxury treatment centers.Just meetings twice a week and late-night calls to the therapist who talks me down when I spiral.She’s good.Calm.Has a voice that makes you think maybe the world isn’t collapsing, even when you’re certain it is.
She’s kept me from sayingfuck itand flying to wherever Aly is.
Not because I don’t want to.I do.God, I do.
But there are things I have to finish first.Even when everything in me is clawing to go back to her—to that feeling, that pause where I felt like maybe I was someone worth keeping.
I have to make this right.
Because no matter how badly I want a kiss, a morning, a moment with her ...I can’t build something new on ashes, gossip, and lies.
The conference room smells like too much caffeine and panic stuffed into suits.Legal pads everywhere.Headlines circled in red.Drafted statements stacked like they mean something.The Vaughn Records legal team looks like they haven’t slept in at least a day.
