How we fell apart
***A/N this chapter deals with implied domestic violence***
1978
"Well I've got a Leer jet on call you know, we could be in Maui by the end of the week..." I think I'm gonna throw up. Fucking Don Henley, and the fucking Eagles are in the studio with us for the week and he takes every opportunity to throw himself at Stevie. Even introducing her as my wife hasn't dissuaded him, and honestly neither has she. Right now she's fucking slutting it up with him, laughing at his stupid jokes and his stupid fucking Texas accent, and his stupid fucking drum sticks...drummers. What's next she gonna fuck Mick?
"We can't go to Maui, Lindsey might get angry" she puts on her fake sweet voice. The one she reserves for annoying reporters she's trying not to offend. She's still pushing her tits at him though "I don't see him here. In fact I don't really see him around all that much and when I do he's coked up and being a royal asshole. What do you see in that twit anyway?" I expect her to tell him off, to really ball him out for that. She doesn't. She chuckles, a genuine one, but crosses her arms "He's not always an asshole, when we first met he was really sweet. Strange and intense, but sweet."
"Well that was then sugar, this is now" He called her sugar? Just how much has he been sniffing around her? I've had enough of hiding around corners "Stevie we need to finish laying down your vocals-if you can spare a minute" par for the course she ignores me, smiling at Don and resting one of her hands on his chest. My blood boils, but I'm not playing her game today "I've never been to Hawaii before, Mick and John love it. When'd you say we could be in Maui by?" she knows exactly what she's fucking doing.
"Stevie, right now" my tone is acid, my volume low. Turning she finally deigns to acknowledge my presence "Oh Linds, didn't see you glowering over there. You remember Don, right?" how can I forget? I'd like to punch his teeth down his throat. "Yes I remember Don-get your ass in the booth so we can get some work done today. I don't have time for your shit" removing her hand from Mr. Henley she storms past me, bumping my shoulder with her slight weight. I give way, knowing if I don't she'd probably fall to the floor. She's taking so much coke right now her weight is down by fifteen pounds, I haven't seen her eat in days.
"Good looking lady you got there, any chance you feel like sharing?" this fucking ass clown "It's not the summer of love anymore Henley, grow the fuck up" that's all the response he earns from me and I follow Stevie back to the booth so we can get started. Luckily we avoid any blow ups and we're able to finish a few songs during the day. Henley's still skulking around and after taking a bump of coke myself I take Stevie by the hand so we can talk away from the others. She doesn't argue, joking and laughing with Christine putting her in a better mood.
"Let's go out for a steak or something" blanching at the mention of food she looks away from me "Is this another lecture about me not eating? If so skip it" frustrated I move closer so we can't be overheard "Steph you're skin and bones, you're cold all the time, your clothes fall off you-baby I'm worried" for a second I think she's going to lay into me, but without an audience and with the pressure of being "Stevie Nicks" taken away, she's back to being Stephanie. The sweet, funny, pretty flower child I married.
"Lindsey I think I'm losing my mind" her voice cracks and she seeks comfort in my arms, I don't deny her rubbing her back gently while she cries. Her tears soaking the front of my shirt "Let's leave, let's just get out" sniffing loudly she looks up at me with puffy red eyes "For dinner?" still sweet and naïve after all we've been through "No angel I mean lets get out of this fucking band and reform Buckingham Nicks. I'm watching us die Stevie and I can't take it" sometimes I wonder if she even still loves me.
