*Dylan's POV*
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It was Friday evening and Ally had called me to let me know Christy was going back into surgery.
The doctors needed to completely remove the ovary and avoid any more damage being done. Because of the infection, the surgery was going to be much riskier than the first. Ally was going to stay in Houston until they knew more about how Christy was doing post-surgery.
She'd texted me around 5, saying that at that moment, it wasn't looking all that great. Her body wasn't reacting well.
And Hunter would be returning to Nashville that night.
He kept insisting that he talk to Christy, and asking for help from me to arrange it. But every time I tried to tell him Christy wasn't in Nashville, was not doing well, and probably in no shape to talk, something would come up and he'd hang up the phone before I could say anything.
As I sat and pondered that over Chinese takeout I was eating by myself in Ally and I's apartment, my phone vibrated, and lo and behold, it was Hunter. Again.
"Don't you have a concert tonight?" I asked as I answered the phone.
"It doesn't start for a half hour. Ashley Monroe is about to open for me. Do you have a minute?" he asked.
"Yup. What's going on?" I replied.
"I'm going to come back in the night tonight, and I want to talk to Christy tomorrow morning. I need to fix this."
"Hunter, I don't think --"
"Just help me out, man! This is my fault to begin with! I only have one shot at this because of tour."
"You don't understand, Hunter."
"What do I not understand?" he asked, exasperated.
"You can't talk to Christy!"
"Why not?" he yelled through the phone.
"Because the isn't here!"
Silence.
"Wh-... what do you mean?" he finally replied, more calmly.
"Christy isn't here. She's back in Texas."
"When does she get back?" he asked. "And why didn't you tell me that before?"
"I tried," I sighed, "but you always hung up before I could tell you."
"How long has she been gone?"
"Most of the week."
He was quiet again.
"I don't know when she'll be back," I said after a few seconds of silence, and took another bite of chicken.
"This isn't even worth it, is it? You know what... I'll... I just won't come back to Nashville. I'll go to the beach or something. She left without telling me anyways," he snapped.
I coughed.
"No, you need to come back," I decided. "And we need to talk. Come straight to my apartment tonight. I don't care if it's four in the morning."
"Why?" he asked, sounding confused.
It was time someone told him.
"Because. I need to talk to you."
"Where is this coming from?"
"It's nothing new, but you wouldn't know," I replied.
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"It means now is when you say, 'Yes, okay. I'll come to your apartment when I get back to Nashville,'" I said.
I heard shuffling on his end of the line, then took a long breath.
"Alright. Fine. I'll see you later," he said.
"Bye."
The line went dead.
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I hadn't heard from Hunter since we'd talked around dinner time.
It was 3:20 in the morning, and I was sitting on the couch in a t-shirt and boxers, sipping a cup of coffee and watching early-morning ESPN, trying to stay awake.
Hunter never texted me to tell me he was on his way, or how far out he was.
His concert that night was in Savannah, Georgia. He should've been arriving in Nashville before long.
By 3:45, I was about ready to give in and text him to wait till the daytime, and that I was going to sleep.
As I grabbed my phone from the coffee table, there was a quiet knock at the door.
Eyebrows furrowed, I set my coffee down on the kitchen counter and made my way to the door, rubbing my eyes and trying to wake myself completely up.
I opened the door to find Hunter with his hair a mess, purple bags under his eyes, one hand in his pocket with the other holding Starbucks.
His expression was blank.
"You look horrible," I said.
"Ditto."
"Come on in," I said, allowing him to step inside. He was only wearing socks.
We walked to the living room and I sat on the couch, Hunter taking a seat in the chair perpendicular to where I was. He set his coffee on the table.
He looked at me expectantly.
"So, about Christy," I began. "There's something I think you ought to know."
