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It didn’t feel right to talk to him over the phone, and since we’d only ever teleported to his place, I wasn’t entirely sure where he lived. I asked Henry at work the following day, but he was just as stumped as I was. He thought I should invite him out over the phone, but it still felt wrong. I figured the best time to approach him would be after his show. It sucked to wait, but I wanted to look him in the eye when I apologized to him.

It was the night before their regular show and I was trying to figure out the best way to apologize when I got a phone call from a number I didn’t recognize. I answered it hesitantly, trying to hear the speaker over the noise on the other end.

“Hello?”

“Artie, thank god. We need you.”

An uneasy feeling settled in my stomach. “Laz? What’s wrong?”

“It’s Hen. I’m not sure what happened to him, but he’s wrecked. We’ve got an important gig tomorrow, and he’s fucking hammered. He’s saying he doesn’t want to sing anymore. He’s not normally like this. I don’t know what the fuck to do!”

“Okay, okay. Calm down. Where are you?”

“Envy. He’s been glued to the barstool since they opened. Not even his friends can get him to move.”

“I’m on my way. I’ll be there soon.”

Guilt slammed into me in every direction as I raced out of the house. This was my fault. I broke his heart because I was terrified of losing my daughter. I shouldn’t have waited so long to apologize. No time was going to be perfect. I should’ve just sucked it up and called him.

Worried he’d keep drinking if I didn’t call him, I plugged the phone into my car and dialed his number while pulling out of my driveway. It went to voicemail the first time, but I kept trying, and he finally answered the third time around.

“Hold on, Artie. Callum is wrestling a beer from him right now,” Maya ground out. “Hendrix! It’s Artie. Don’t you want to talk to him?”

“Huh?”

“Come on, give up the bottle. Talk to Artie instead.”

There was some noise, and Hendrix sounded suspicious as his voice got closer. “You’re lying. He doesn’t want to talk to me. I ruined his life.”

I thunked my head against the headrest, pain coursing through me like lightning. Gripping the steering wheel tightly, I tried to yell loud enough for him to hear me. “No! Hendrix, no, you didn’t!”

He sucked in a breath, his voice getting clearer, like he’d finally put the phone to his ear. “Art?”

“You didn’t ruin anything. I promise. Please don’t say that.”

“But your ex–”

“Admitted she was wrong. Or at least her boyfriend did. You didn’t ruin my life.”

His words were slurred, and he’d obviously been drinking for a while. I wasn’t sure if he was actually hearing what I was saying or not. The noise on the phone muffled a little and Hendrix got louder, whispering into the phone.

“I miss the heck outta you. You’re my mate. Did you know that? I figured it out after you left. Feels like you took my soul with you. I’ll never find someone better. I wish I didn’t have to stay away.”

“You don’t! You don’t, Hendrix! I– Shit, I really didn’t want to do this over the phone.”

“That’s fine. I get it. I’m gonna go now. I didn’t finish my drink. I hope you get Sophie back. I want you to be happy.”

“Hendrix, wait–”

He hung up before I could get through to him. He was really too drunk to be having this conversation. I sped through a yellow light, wishing I could teleport like he could so this wouldn’t take so long. I wasn’t really sure what he meant by mate, but I had the same painful hole in my chest that he did. I couldn’t stomach the thought of him feeling that way.

I got caught in my seatbelt trying to get out of the car in a hurry, and bypassed the line without an ounce of guilt to get to the front. Laz was waiting for me by the door and he gripped the back of my neck, shouting over the noise of the club.

“What the hell happened?”

I shook my head. “It doesn’t matter. I’m going to fix it. Where is he?”

“In your seat. He’s a mess, Artie.”