Judgingby his smile, I suspected he did.
Chadheld my hand tight as he continued, “So, not to get into T-M-I territory oranything, but I’ve always had a sensitive stomach. Just ask the guys;sharin’ a bathroom with me hasn’t exactly been thehighlight of our tours together. But I’ve always just assumed it was, oh, youknow, a bad batch of nachos here or a touch of the stomach flu there.Eventually, I self-diagnosed myself with having irritable bowel syndrome,thanks to my worst enemy, Google.All ofmy symptomsseemed to match, and that was good enough for me. I never thought it wassomethin’ to be concerned about, despite being in pain andneedin’ to be close to a bathroomat alltimes.
“Well,over the past year or so, it startedgettin’ worse.The pain wasbecomin’ more severe. Andstill, Ijust thought it was the IBSdoin’ its thing and agetaking its toll. So, I didn’t think much of it, until a few months ago. Thepain wasunbearableand I could feel myself gettingweaker. Yet, I still ignored it. And guys, when shit—no pun intended—starts toget worse, you shouldn’t ignore it, okay? This is your bodytellin’yousomethin’snot right. So,listento it.”
Hetook a deep breath, squeezed my hand, and went on. “Anyway, eventually, I beganto bleed. It started as a little, and then, it was quite a bit. I was sodehydrated that, about a month ago, I passed out before my last show and theyhad to send for an ambulance. I was taken to the hospital, where I underwent abunch of tests to then be diagnosed with ulcerative colitis, a form of inflammatorybowel disease. Which is a hell of a lot more serious than irritable bowelsyndrome, let me tell you. So, for the past few weeks, I’ve been undergoingtreatments to get it a little more under control, and even though I’m not yetin remission, my doctor is hopeful for one.”
Iheld my breath as the crowd applauded with excitement, and I wrapped my armaround his. I pressed myself against his side, elated and warm, tryingdesperately not to cry.
“Don’tget too excited,” he laughed. “It doesn’t mean I’mcured. There is no cure for this, and for all I know, I could findmyself in another flare two weeks from now. I mean, I hope not, but one of thedebilitating factors of IBD is you never really know when it’sgonnagoreally bad. But for now,I’mdoin’ a little better, and after tonight, I’ll becomin’ back on tour.”
Allowinga moment for the audience to cheer, he looked down at me, met my eyes, andsmiled. I hugged his arm tighter, relieved to have him back.
“Anyway,thanky’allfor the support. It wasn’t easy to comeout here and be honest,‘causeit’s, uh, not exactlythe easiest thing to talk about, you know? But,” he nodded, surveying thecrowd, “thank you. Really. We have the best fans in the entire world. If Iwasn’t already convinced of that, I sure as hell am now.”
Anotherapplause, and Chad bowed his head, thanking them profusely. I admired him somuch in that moment. For being honest. For being brave. For being true tohimself, even when it was hard. For owning that disease and making it his bitch.
Witha reluctant smile, he tugged his arm from my grasp and positioned his fingerson the frets of his guitar. Turning to me, he spoke again into the mic. “Well,enough about me. Tomorrow is someone very special’s birthday, and I washopin’y’allwould join me insingin’ Happy Birthday to her.” With that, he strummed theguitar and kicked off the infamous Happy Birthday Song. The audience followedalong, and Devin and the guys joined us on stage, crowding around me. Sebastianeven held afreakin’ cupcake, and damn me, I’d beendoing so well, but I couldn’t fight my emotions any longer.
Ipressed my hands to my tear-streaked cheeks, delving into a mixture of laughterand hysterical crying. The song didn’t last long, thank God, and when it wasover, Chad smiled.
“Makea wish, kiddo,” he quietly said, and I nodded, turning to the cupcake, andblowing out the candle without a moment’s hesitation.
Therewas only one thing I could possibly wish for, and that was him.
25
FinallyFeel No Pain
CHAD
“SO,YOU’RE GONNA PLAYthe show, right, Baby Bear?” Sebastian teased,wrapping his arm around my shoulders.
“Yeah,you know, I’d love to, but,” my gaze met Molly’s, “wekindagot plans.”
“Uh-huh,”he grumbled. Then, he leaned closer to my ear and asked, “Do we need to have atalk about the birds and the bees?”
“Jesus.”I shoved him away, shaking my head. But my cheeks were ablaze, and my veinsjittered with nerves. Because my God, I couldn’t take my eyesoff ofher, and hers hadn’t left me. Had our physicalconnection always been like this? Wouldn’t I have noticed if it had?
“Seriously,though, Chaddington.” Sebastian edged toward me again, whispering, “I boughtGreyson some condoms. You know, just in case. So, if you need any—”
“I’mnotaskin’ a seventeen-year-old kid for …” I shook myhead, unable to finish the sentence. “Christ. I’m good, okay? Fuckin’ hell …”
“Good.It’s good to be prepared.” Sebastian nodded. Then, he clapped his hands.“Anyway, you two crazy kids have a good time, okay? I’mgonnafind Dev, Ty, and Jon and get this show going.” He moved toward Molly andwrapped his arms around her in an affectionate hug. “Happy birthday, gorgeous.”
“Thanks,Seb,” she whispered. “I’ll seey’allin a couple days.”
“Yep.”He nodded and kissed the top of her head. “Take care of my Baby Bear.”
Shegiggled lightly as she walked toward me, her eyes never leaving mine as shereplied, “Always.”
***
“So,did Mama and Hank seriously not come tonight?” Molly asked from the passengerseat.
“Seriously.”I laughed, tapping my fingers against the steering wheel restlessly. Theyitched to reach over, to take her hand and hold it in mine. “Theyinsisted.”
“Ican’t believe they missed it.” She sighed, turning to look out the window.
