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“We’re too experienced,” Atlas groans. “We have to go. I’m sorry—”

“Stay for the next two concerts, and then you can go,” I tell them. “We’re getting married in Florida next month…”

“I want to be there. I understand if you don’t want us to be, and it’ll fucking hurt…” Mav looks gutted at the thought.

“No, you’re family. Layla will understand for the wedding, I think,” I tell them. I mean… God, I hope so.

Fucking shit. I want to scream and beat these two. They know better. And yet, here we are.

“Alright then,” Atlas says, as if everything is decided. “I’ll miss writing with you guys.”

“We’ll be around,” I remind them gently. Things are changing, even if I don’t want them to.

Mav and Altas leave the room, wiping away tears, and I feel even more helpless than before.

“I have to say that it went even worse than I thought it would,” Roark says. “They’ve been part of the band for years. This feels so wrong.”

“Should Layla look at their faces every day while on tour alone with them while they yank her around?” I ask. There were no good choices today.

Stepping out of the room, I run into Jordan.

“Hey, can we talk?” I ask.

“Yeah, I had a feeling we’d need to after you guys spoke,” he says. “Alone or with everyone?”

“It affects them, so I want to do this with them,” I confirm.

I feel as if I’m walking to an execution as I move toward the green room. Maybe that seems dramatic, but I don’t think so. I had to choose today between my best friends and a woman who is about to be my family by marriage.

My natural instinct is to protect others, so that’s what I did. Layla needs space to just become who she’s meant to be.

“Hey,” I say, walking to the middle of the room. “So we need to talk.”

Lavender grabs a blanket, and I wince as I realize she’s nursing the twins.

“Lenny, don’t. I can’t see a thing from here. I’m here to listen,” Jordan explains from the door. “I honestly didn’t even remember you’d be feeding the kids.”

“Me either,” I rumble. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s really fine,” she says with a shrug. “Now, tell me what’s going on.”

Layla looks nervous as she leans back on the sofa.

“Roark and I spoke to Mav and Atlas. Lay, we decided that they shouldn’t continue on with the band. You can hate that decision or feel however you want, but this push and pull isn’t good for anyone while they’re figuring shit out,” I begin.

“It’s so awkward now,” she whispers. “Everything feels stained now. Songs, lyrics, God even food. It seems so silly, but I don’t think I can tour alone with them.”

“Which brings me to our next issue,” I grumble, blowing out a breath.

“Your tour schedule,” Jordan breathes. “Dates haven’t been announced after this. We can alter whatever.”

“It’ll have to be less dates,” Derek says, twisting to look at Jordan. “They can produce albums at home, maybe do smaller shows to launch them that are closer to home, but a full tour seems overwhelming.”

“Correct.” Jordan nods.

“I feel like I ruined everything,” Layla sniffles. “If I hadn’t—”

“Nope, don’t finish that sentence. If you’d changed anything, we may not have you in our lives, Layla,” Roark says seriously. “I love them like brothers, they’ll figure out their shit. They love music, so they’ll link up with another band. It’ll be really fucking weird, but we’ll manage.”