Trey
Upon my arrival in Los Angeles, I swiftly retrieve my rental car, programming the GPS to navigate me to Kiara's hotel. Throughout the entire drive, my knee bounces uncontrollably, mirroring the nervous energy consuming me.
I know Kiara insisted she was okay, but concern continues gnawing at my consciousness. If she happened to lose consciousness for any reason, I'd bet it's a result of prioritizing work over her well-being. And she made a vow before she left that she wouldn't do that.

It sounds like someone will be getting a punishing once they feel better, I think to myself as I approach Kiara's hotel room.
I knock on the door, and Simon, her trusted bodyguard, swings the door open. His presence in her room doesn't bother me; after all, I had the chance to meet and interview him before entrusting him with Kiara's safety. After hearing stories of things going horribly wrong at fan events, I couldn't afford to take any risks when it came to the well-being of my fiancée.
"How is she?" I inquire, stepping past Simon and into the room. Despite Kiara's usually orderly demeanor, the room is in disarray, with clothes and shoes scattered around as if a tornado just swept through.
Regret nibbles at the edges of my thoughts; I should have been here sooner, before things escalated to this point. However, dealing with William has occupied my time along with the restaurant.
In an effort to address his needs and maintain his sobriety, I negotiated and secured an apartment for him in my penthouse. The arrangement involves free weekly dinners for the landlord and his family, as long as William remains there.
He took some time off of work to cope with Lucinda's death, so Jeremiah has been staying with him at night when I'm at work. While the road to recovery has been rough, we're making progress, and there hasn't been a relapse thus far. William's resilience shines through; despite the intense grief he's experiencing, he remains determined to stay sober.

"She's currently resting," Simon informs me, his forehead creasing with concern. "Medication helps with the nausea—when she can keep it down."
My jaw involuntarily tenses. "It's that bad?" I ask, my voice a mix of concern and disbelief.
"Let's just say she wasn't even able to keep water down."
My heart sinks. Guilt gnaws at me for not being here to take care of her.

My poor cupcake.
"Thanks, Simon," I express, giving him a grateful dap before gently creeping open Kiara's bedroom door and stepping inside. There she is, knocked out with a bucket positioned beside her on the nightstand. Her hair is secured in its usual messy bun, and despite being sick as a dog, she looks remarkably beautiful and peaceful in her sleep.
A surge of emotion washes over me. God, I missed her so much.
Without a second thought, I climb into the bed beside her and tenderly wrap my hands around her, cradling her stomach. I can only imagine how much pain she must be in from all the relentless vomiting.
She flinches at my touch, and with hesitation in her voice, she breaks the silence, "Trey, is that you?"
"Were you hoping for another guy to come cuddle you while you sleep?" I playfully tease, trying to lighten the mood.
She manages a weak laugh, "No, but I do have my gun right underneath the bed for unexpected visitors."
I smirk at her response. "Good girl," I say, planting a gentle kiss on her cheek.
Shifting the focus, she asks, "How was your flight?"
"I don't want to talk about me right now," I respond, my focus firmly on understanding what the hell is going on with her. I'm not returning to Virginia until she's feeling better again.
Just as she's about to share speak, my phone abruptly rings, and the jarring sound interrupts our conversation. Glancing at the screen, I see it's Candice calling.
What the hell does she want?
We just had our weekly call yesterday; what could she possibly want to talk about today? She still isn't doing shit but drinking and partying while I continue to pay the rent over there.
Turning over, Kiara asks, "Who's that?"
"Candice," I mutter with a hint of frustration. "I'll just call her back later. I've been feeling like I've been putting you on the back burner with everyone else's problems, and that's not okay. You should be my main"
She rubs my arm soothingly. "You haven't end I don't feel abandoned. We knew this would be difficult with me being on the road, and you have so much going on."
My phone rings again, somehow sounding louder like it's demanding my attention.
Rolling my eyes, I mutter, "My sister is really starting to get on my nerves, especially since most of the time she acts like she has her panties in a bunch."
I wish she'd pluck that wedgie out already.
"What is it, Candice?" I grit out, my patience wearing thin.
"T-Trey, it's M-Mom. She's not okay," she says, her voice trembling with hysteria.
My stomach plummets as the gravity of her words hits me. "What the hell are you talking about? What do you mean she's not okay?"
I leap to my feet, the room suddenly feeling too confined as I pace back and forth. Kiara's concerned eyes follow my movements, but the weight of the news from my sister renders me momentarily speechless.
"She was drinking a lot, and we got into this huge argument. I don't really remember what triggered it...Oh yeah, It began with something about you, and then somehow William got dragged into it. Something about him turning her sons against her. I don't know," she begins to ramble, her words a jumbled mess of distress.
I clench my fists, trying to contain the surge of emotions. "Get to the point. What. Happened?" I demand, my tone bordering on a snarl. I turn on the speaker so Kiara can hear the unfolding news as well.
Candice takes a deep breath, her words heavy with a burden I can almost feel. "She took off in the car, saying she needed to get more beer, and then the police showed up at the door. They said she got into a really bad car accident. The other driver was okay, but Mom was in critical condition. They don't know if she'll make it."
The words slam into me, a vicious sucker punch to the gut. I sense the blood draining from my face, my heart momentarily halting in disbelief as I grapple to make sense of what's going on. Memories, regrets, and an overwhelming surge of helplessness converge in a tsunami of emotions, threatening to drown me.
Fuck.
This can't be happening!
She continues to speak, but her voice becomes distant, drowned out by the persistent ringing in my ears. It feels as though the room is spinning around me. Bile rises up my already constricted throat, threatening to be expelled.
Amidst the turmoil, I sense Kiara rushing over to my side. "Trey-" She suddenly covers her mouth and rushes to the bathroom. I hear her retching, and I hurry to make sure she's okay.
Placing my phone on the counter, I rub her back as she continues to vomit. "God, is that Kiara? You gave her food poisoning, didn't you?" Candice jokes, although I can hear her sniffling.
My attention shifts back to the phone. "Candice, are you at the hospital right now?" I bark, still kneeling beside Kiara. She lays her head on her arm against the toilet seat, her body shaking violently as she groans.
"No, I had to sleep off my hangover, but they said the surgery could take a while. There was no point in sleeping in those uncomfortable chairs in the waiting room for that long."
I mentally facepalm, frustration bubbling within me. What the fuck? So Mom could die, and there's a possibility that nobody would be there when it happens.
"Go to the hospital. I'm going to call Jeremiah, and he'll meet you there," I instruct firmly.
There's a brief silence, and I prepare for a potential argument, but then she says, "Okay."
"Alright, I'll see you in about six hours," I say before hanging up.
Hopefully I won't be too late.
Kiara finally stands up, her hand reaching for the faucet to rinse her mouth out. I gently wipe the tears from her bloodshot eyes. "Are you okay?" I ask softly.
"I'm fine, it's just the...stomach bug. Are we leaving right now?" she asks, worry in her voice.
We?
"Cupcake, I'll come back after I confirm what's going on," I explain, the unspoken words lingering in the air - meaning whether my mom lives through the night. "You need to stay in bed and sleep off this bug."
"No, I'm coming." Defiance flares in her eyes, determination etched on her face. "Maggie is like a mom to me. I owe it to her, and I won't let you face this alone. We're in this together, Trey."
I exhale audibly. It feels like a risky decision to have her fly in this state, but I also know that I need her support. She'll ensure I don't fall apart, that I can be strong for my family no matter what happens. "Fine, but we need to hurry."