“Her phone was dead, so I helped her call her friend. If it’s any consolation, she seemed fucked up over what went down.”

He slumped back onto his mattress. “That’s zero consolation, Patrick.”

“Right.” His mate looked around the room. “Just come to breakfast, please? You’re Derek’s groomsman.”

He was, but if he showed up alone, all the guys would laugh at him. ‘Lost another one, have you?’ ‘that’s what you get for punching.’ He heard it a million times when his exes were reality tv stars and drama queens. But this was Eden. He couldn’t handle hearing it about Eden.

“I’m staying here. Eden’s going on tour and everything’s fucked.”

Psycho groaned. “Mate, you knew she was going on tour. It’s just the way it is. Like you going to the Rams. I don’t like it, but it has to happen.”

Willow looked at his friend, the little brother he’d always wanted. He held out an arm and Psycho came and sat next to him. Willow gave him a one-sided hug. “You’ll be fine without me, mate. Better. My kicking’s gone to shit.”

“It has,” Psycho agreed in a watery voice. “But I’ll miss you.”

“I’ll miss you too.”

They sat together and Willow wanted to feel better, but fresh anxieties fought for his attention. How was Eden going to survive a months-long tour? She’d get scurvy, go so pale she was see-through. Who was going to hold her while she cried? Who’d bring her meals with vegetables in them?

Psycho pulled away. “Mate, you need to be at this breakfast. Mara and Derek have an announcement.”

“Announcement? Is Mara pregnant?”

“I dunno, come and find out.”

Willow groaned. “Alright. Do I have time for a shower?”

“No, but you need one, so hurry up.”

He washed in record time, brushing his teeth for good measure. When he got out, Psycho was lying on his bed and Willow could see Cheryl’s Instagram open on his phone. “Having a morning stalk, Patty?”

Psycho shoved his phone away. “Fuck off.”

They were some of the last people down for breakfast. The hangar had been completely transformed from a nightclub to a fancy restaurant, with long white tables and bouquets of fresh flowers. Everywhere Willow looked, he saw couples holding hands. He kept his eyes down, praying no one would ask where Eden was. He and Psycho grabbed plates and headed for the buffet. The food was fancy; free-range bacon, kippers in butter, avocado smash, cheese and onion tart, piles of croissants and omelettes and crepes made to order.

Willow’s stomach was the size of a pea, but he grabbed a bit of everything and ordered a spinach omelette. Psycho parked himself at Beth and Byron’s table and knowing he’d look like a dick if he ditched them, Willow dropped into a chair opposite the happy couple.