Chapter 25

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I wake up to my head throbbing, my eyes heavy and swollen

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I wake up to my head throbbing, my eyes heavy and swollen. When I go to rub them they're sore, the skin below my eyes and nose rubbed raw from wiping away endless tears and blowing my nose so much last night.

Last night, not long after Addison's visit and I stopped crying, Alex packed our bags and made some calls to arrange a private plane back to Nashville. He said we needed to get out of New York, and I could tell he was worried about his mother and Chris coming to find us.

We got into Nashville around nine o'clock last night, and as soon as we landed I turned on my phone, my screen blowing up with calls and text messages from friends and family—more importantly the boys and my dad. I spent countless hours on the phone with my dad and the boys once I got home, assuring them that everything was fine, though it was all far from fine. I knew they didn't believe the lies spreading about me, but my dad was livid that the world was viewing me that way. He insisted on rushing home to be with me, but I convinced him and the boys to go on with their show tonight and just come home tomorrow instead, there was nothing they could do about the situation anyway. The damage was already done.

It was heartbreaking hearing the anger and the fear in my dad's voice. I don't think I've ever seen him that upset before. But it was even more heartbreaking to blatantly lie to him about everything that's been going on and what all happened two years ago. He still thinks Alex is the one to blame.

I still didn't tell him the whole truth last night—about how Chris initially made my life a living hell and is still out to get me—and Joe and Zack kept their promise on not telling him, because if he knew I know he'd end up in jail with assault or murder charges. For right now, my dad is confused about everything and thinks this is just one horrible misunderstanding I got caught up in.

Usually, my dad never keeps up with the media and tabloids, but the only reason he found out was because so many family members and friends were reaching out to him to ask if the story was true. My dad was appalled by their questions and even more so by the articles being published, calling me a mistress.

I ended up staying on the phone with my dad and the boys until nearly 2:00 AM last night to try to explain things and convince them I'm ok so they don't worry. The last thing I need is to make them worry about me and get them tangled into this mess.

While I was on the phone with my family all night, I didn't know until after I hung up with them that Alex was on his phone calling his publicist. She promised she'd do all she could to try to prevent anything else from coming out, but this story is like a wildfire, blazing quickly and mercilessly.

Cautiously opening my eyes, letting them adjust to the light, I turn my head to read the clock on my nightstand. It's just past two in the afternoon, and Alex is sleeping soundly next to me in my bed. This is the first time he's really slept in days.

I carefully remove his hand from my waist, trying my best not to wake him. I'd stay with him, but I know there's no chance I'll be able to fall back asleep—not that I slept much last night anyway. I maybe got two hours of sleep in total between tossing and turning all night, feeling restless, unable to shut out the negative thoughts.

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