ryland's pov
the breath of fresh air shane had left still felt cool on my skin as i placed my keys on the kitchen table at a little past eight pm. the footsteps of alcohol on my veins and nerve endings felt heavy against my skin; whilst i'd only had a few drinks, i'd always been a lightweight and was already bracing myself for acting as sober as possible. my eyelids felt heavy as i replayed the incident with the paparazzi, meeting louis, arriving at the bar. everything felt like a blur. nudging my shoes off and kicking them into the basket, i steadied myself against the wall with one hand and inhaled sharply when i heard the sound of the bedroom door closing above me.
conor appeared on the landing, poking his head around the wall to meet my eyes. "where've you been?" he asked, his tone of voice wavering as he jogged down the stairs, taking two at a time towards the end.
"sorry, i got caught up." i brushed his question off, hoping the subject of our little girl's health would take prevalence and i could go to sleep without any more questions. "is madison okay?"
"ryland, you were meant to be back three fucking hours ago. i've been dealing with her puking all day and you decide to hang around at the office instead of coming home. she only just fell asleep. you think that's fair?" he asked with knitted eyebrows, glowering across the hall.
suddenly the warmth of alcohol, music and shane's voice had absconded from around me; all i felt was the cool air from outside nipping underneath my shirt sleeves. my lower lip tucked under my teeth and i bit back the responses that ran through my mind. "please, con. i've had a long day and i'm tired. i don't have the energy to fight with you."
i went to walk past him and his fingers wrapped around my wrist, pulling me back roughly. "have you been smoking?" he asked incredulously, his grip tightening and making my skin burn.
a jolt of adrenaline rushed to my head, making my lack of sobriety fluctuate. anxiety swam through me. with my arm growing numb, i averted my gaze to the ground and stayed silent. his eyes searched mine frantically for an answer and i cursed myself for trying to impress shane by doing it in the first place.
"you fucking answer me when i speak to you!" he demanded, raising his voice so loud that my ears began to ring.
i flinched. "no. i've been with shane all day. he smokes." i lied weakly, feeling my eyes well up with tears as i tried to pull my wrist back. "you're going to wake up madison."
conor didn't let go when he let out a scoff, instead pressing the pads of his fingers so far into my arm that i felt dizzy. our faces were close enough to hear him grit his teeth.
"i'm going to bed." i whispered with a wave of humiliation coursing through my lungs, and with a sharp tug i yanked my arm out of his grasp. the stairs beneath my feet felt foreign as i fumbled for the bannister in the dark, my stomach tightening and heartbeat quickening.
i slipped into the bathroom, closing and locking the door, before exhaling with a sob lodged in my throat. my back slid down wall and an excruciating jab of anxiety scraped at my ribcage. paint chips sat on the floor from the half-finished decorating job conor had started last month and a drop of water from the shower head thudded as it hit the floor. it felt as though someone was standing on my chest. the bathroom was dimly lit from the street lamp that shone through the tiny window, but the beam was strong enough to highlight the red finger marks indented into my throbbing skin. my wrist ached, yearning to be soothed, but instead i balled my hands into fists and rested my forehead on my knees, desperate to catch my breath.
*
i stormed into the office twenty minutes late the next morning with no coffee and three missed calls from shane. i threw my bag down underneath my desk, not even sparing a glance for where it landed. my fingernails dug into the palm of my free hand and i whipped my head back in frustration, stifling a groan when the next insult was thrown down the reciever.
"conor, i'm allowed to have a drink with my fucking boss if i want to." i argued through gritted teeth, and ignored shane smirking like a smug, sociopathic little git in the corner of the room. he was dressed in a pale grey toned suit and a red tie hung loose around his neck, making his hair appear brighter and more vibrant than usual.
"i had to look after madison all day and you didn't get back till 8pm! she didn't stop throwing up from this stomach bug and when she wasn't, she was crying and throwing tantrums. you're never here yet she still wants you every time she's upset! i do everything for this family and get nothing back and it's driving me fucking mad, ryland!"
the tip of my tongue ran over my teeth as i swallowed all six of the comebacks that ran through my mind as my fiancé spewed utter nonsense. the phone dug uncomfortably into my ear. "i'm never there because i'm the one working my ass off nine to five every fucking day just so i can provide for this family. you get to be the stay-at-home dad she adores. we agreed that once she started school you'd look for a job—"
"this is exactly what i mean, you're so fucking condescending!"
"i'm hanging up. i've been awake since two with our sick daughter and i don't have the energy to argue with you. i'll see you tonight." i finished and slammed the phone down on the glass table, resting my head in my hands before letting my posture relax into the brown leather backing of the chair.
"trouble in paradise?" shane asked with the corner of his mouth quirking up, my head turning to face him sharply. the top two or three buttons of his shirt were undone and his lower lip was caught between his teeth as he raised his eyebrows at me, catching my stare. i thought of how he'd told me about him and garrett last night. how his truths of sexuality and attraction had so effortlessly fallen from his lips. i swallowed nervously and glanced up at him with exasperation before shaking my head.
"don't get involved." i quipped back and turned on the desktop in front of me, grabbing the top sheet from the pile of papers that were forming on the left side of the desk.
he sniggered, followed by an amused sigh, and started typing out what i could only assume to be an email to another artist he was trying to snipe from other record companies; those were the only letters he preferred to write himself, and often let me compose the rest until my fingers cramped up.
after a minute or two, shane piped up again. "you see," he began, still typing, "it's quite hard to not get involved when it was me you were with last night. talking with me, laughing with me, getting drunk with–"
i inhaled sharply and my head snapped towards him, making his sing-song list come to an abrupt halt. he had the look of a mischievous child on his face, almost as though winding me up was better than any other pastime. "don't piss me off today, i know you're my boss but i swear to god—"
"was that a threat? very dominant. out of character for you, ryland adams. what're you gonna do next, tell me to be a good boy?" shane teased with a smirk and got up from his desk, walking over to me with a stack of papers in his hand. he hovered behind me and i felt my face grow hot, my cheeks were surely red by now as i focussed on the screen and ignored the way the numbers and letters were blurring together.
when i didn't respond or react in the slightest to his movement, he leant forward and propped himself up by gripping onto the leather backing of my chair. "so did you have a good time last night?" he asked with a smirk and a sing song voice.
i repressed an eye roll and continued to organise the arrangements for harry styles to record his new single, checking the price and timings of the matte black limousine we usually ordered. i could tell he was growing even more irritable as i refused to give him a reaction, and he watched over me as i continued to type. my eyes twitched to his arms every now and then, struggling to stray away from the way his shirt sleeves were rolled up and the veins on his forearms and wrists were nearly popping out of his skin.
"i might have to ask your boyfriend — sorry, my bad, fiancé — to be a dick more often. it's like you're a whole new person. doesn't really seem like he needs much encouraging, though, i think he's got it covered."
i snapped my head around to see shane grinning over my shoulder like a gleeful toddler, appearing quite impressed with himself that he'd finally broken my silent treatment. "can i help you with something, or are you going to continue to act like this throughout the day?" i blurted, standing up abruptly and walking to the other side of the office to file the details, bending down to leave the folder on the bottom shelf. with a reluctant huff i returned to my seat, ignored the smirk that had grown on his lips, and refocused on the laptop.
"i haven't decided yet." shane drawled sarcastically, and suddenly my stomach shot through the roof because he leaned so close to me that i could feel his breath on my neck. "your ass looks good in this suit, by the way. glad i bought it." he murmured in a low voice before removing his grasp of my chair and walking out the office, leaving me short of oxygen and entirely gobsmacked.
twenty minutes passed before he returned and without a word, we headed to the board room across the hall. for the next hour we had a meeting with troye sivan, who was collaborating with kasey musgraves and mark ronson on a new song in the coming months. with the release date yet to be agreed, shane conversed with the young artist's team whilst i stayed silent and scribbled the odd note on my pad, not really feeling as though it was my place to interject.
the teams of the other artist's joined over zoom call from australia and by half past eleven, they were continuously getting on shane's nerves. i could tell by the way he was tapping his fingers on the round glass table, growing more irritable by the second as the woman on the other line crunched her potato chips loudly to the point where he looked as though he may slam the receiver into the glass table and walk out.
shane cut the meeting off early just a few minutes after the excessive chewing had begun, rolling his eyes as he waltzed out the room with a swagger in his step and his shoulders tense. i followed in what some may call the manner of a lost puppy, wandering after shane as he strolled right past the door to our office and out the fire exit.
he lit a cigarette between his lips before pushing himself up onto the silver bars i'd been sat on a few days ago, puffing out a cloud of grey before passing it to me. i leant against the wall beside the door naively, slightly unsure as to why he had kicked up such a big fuss at the sound of someone eating. before i could ask, he opened his mouth to speak.
"i'm leaving in a bit, got a meeting on the other side of the city, so i won't be back for the rest of the day."
i hummed and took the fag from his hand, hesitantly ignoring the twinge of disappointment in my stomach. i hadn't realised that cuff of my shirt sleeve had risen as i brought the filter to my mouth.
"what's on your wrist?" shane asked abruptly, hopping off the fence and reaching for my arm.
"nothing." i squeaked out quickly, busying myself by covering the grazed skin with the sleeve of my suit jacket and leaving the cigarette dangling on my lower lip. i inhaled sharply and felt the smoke fill my lungs, apprehensive as his eyes darkened.
"show me your arm." he ordered, eyes glowering and a mixture of curiosity and concern coating his eyes. his eyebrows furrowed and he reached for my arm, frowning even more when i pulled away with smoke leaving my mouth. "ryland show me your fucking arm or you're fired." he repeated firmly, his voice raising slightly as i let him take my wrist in his hands and roll up my sleeve.
the purple and blue bruise conor had left last night was spreading across the bone, three ugly spheres of colour from the tight grasp his fingers had had on my skin. his thumb traced over the bruised flesh and i tried to repress the flinch edging on my body, failing miserably.
"did he do something to you?"
i forced out a laugh and an incredulous expression. "i- what? you seriously think that's what happened? i banged my wrist on the counter last night because i was walking around the kitchen in the dark." i lied, looking him straight in the eye, desperate to keep a straight face. "i told you, the slightest bit of alcohol goes to my head."
shane's expression flickered, as though he was struggling to decipher the truth behind my words. "i thought—"
"yeah, well you thought wrong." i ended the conversation firmly, placing the cigarette back between his thumb and forefinger with anxiety rushing through my veins. my tone felt a little cold and defensive, so i forced a hesitant smile onto my lips. "i'm going inside, it's fucking freezing out here and i don't want to smell of smoke."
i busied myself in the office for the next five minutes until shane returned, rubbing his hands together from the low temperature. once he'd slid his phone into his pocket, and was about to say goodbye, the landline phone rang and i soon picked it up, waving shyly to him as he walked out. his words played on my mind throughout my conversation with the public relations manager who was trying to organise a press statement for a relationship involving one of our artists; all i could think of was his accusation and the level of truth that lay behind it.
there wasn't a single part of me that wanted to remember the fear that coursed through my veins when conor had taken that first step toward me. the pinch in his voice and the flicker of aggression in his eyes was unmatched. i'd never seen him like it before. part of me was begging my brain to just push past it as one of the dark points in our relationship, because every couple has rows where someone takes it too far, right? you see it in films all the time and they always fall into each other's arms by the end.
five hours with shane gone passed slowly and i soon found myself driving home, the illuminated windows of the city streets glowing over my head. i'd purposefully taken the long way home just to pass the bar we'd been to last night. the neon lights glinted off the car windows, replicating the image in my head from when he had shut the taxi door behind me and leant through the window to say goodnight.
at around six o'clock i pulled into the drive way and made my way up the cobbled path, huffing softly. i had spent the latter part of the afternoon with admin work up to my eyes and numerous phone calls with potential new artists, and my eyelids already felt heavy at the prospect of sleep. my key slotted into the door and a wave of warmth hit me, and i had to withhold a sigh of content that we had heating in the house and a permanent roof over our heads. perhaps i had been overreacting.
my emotions were confirmed when a tiny blur of brunette flashed before me and leaped into my arms.
"daddy!" madison exclaimed once i'd caught her, and took no time in nestling comfortably against my chest.
"how're you feeling angel?" i asked gently, my voice softening as usual when i spoke to her.
"better!" she exuberantly replied and buried her face in the crook of my neck, before sharply pulling back. "you smell of the bad stuff."
"the ba-" i began to repeat in confusion until it clicked that i'd smoked this morning. "food smells good! what's for dinner?" i swiftly changed the subject and placed her back on the floor, ruffling her wavy hair and peering into the kitchen to see two yellow carrier bags.
a voice answered from inside. "takeaway."
as the two of us walked in, conor and i met eyes, and a rush of anxiety washed over me. the kitchen actually looked clean for once, the surfaces and countertops gleaming, and he'd dressed into jeans and a t shirt instead of slogging around in joggers.
"hi." i greeted, voice a little hoarse.
he stood up from the chair and walked over to me, wrapping his arms around my waist until they fell just under my ass. once his lips had found his way to my forehead, and then my cheek, and then my lips, he sighed heavily. "i'm sorry." he whispered, evidently desperate for madison not to hear.
"i know." i murmured into his shoulder, truly believing him. had he been lying, he wouldn't have gone to the effort of cleaning the house until it was spotless, or ordering take out for the first time in months. "come on, i'm hungry, let's eat" i added, voice a little louder for madison to hear this time. she cheered happily from the table and banged her knife and fork against her plate, reaching her small hands out to grapple at whatever food was inside.
dinner was filled with light conversation and madison talking over the both of us by excitedly explaining what she'd done at school today. after the third time of scolding her for talking with her mouthful i decided to let it slide, playfully joining her in jeering at conor for one thing or another. the nervousness i'd felt earlier had evaporated and all i felt was relief. relief that i didn't depend on the exhilaration or excitement shane left me with. what was in front of me was perfectly enough.
once we'd cleared the table and i'd changed out of my suit, the three of us settled into the living room to watch a film together, something we hadn't done in months. whenever we had a free moment it was always rushing to get madison to sleep or vacuum the floors or do the washing. it had been conor's suggestion, and he soon pulled me into him so my body was resting against his and scrolled to find a good movie on disney plus for us to watch. finally we agreed on tangled and madi snuggled in between the two of us with a wide smile.
"daddy can you go make popcorn?" she asked a few minutes into the film, causing me to heave my legs off the sofa and wander into the kitchen.
the microwaveable bags only took a few minutes, and once i'd set the timer, i picked up my phone from the side. i hadn't touched it since i got home, and as i scrolled through my emails, a text message pinged through at the top of the screen.
from: shane
fuck i missed you today. come out with me on friday to an award ceremony. please. i want you there with me.
and as i looked in on my fiancé and daughter waiting for me, the guilt was back again. only this time, it was stronger.
a/n: sorry it's been so long i've had a lot going on but i'm trying to get back into writing, it's just been a hard few months. anyway i hope you love this and are having a good holidays!!