Tethered ? Awsten Knight

30 minutes later:

"You're still mad at me." I frowned while I moved my spoon around in my coffee.

"Tatum..." He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers.

"Can we please just talk about what you said when you mentioned you had struggled too?"

"Can we not?"

"That's not fair to me." I said sternly. "That is also a double standard and you just got mad at me for holding stuff back."

"Alright!" He said with wider eyes and I could tell he was slightly annoyed. "I just...I haven't said anything because I know it's my anxiety but like...being away has made me have these thoughts of...what if it's too hard for you or if somebody else...what if it's too hard for us? Shit always hits the fan when I'm gone. And even know to know something happened to you and has upset you so much - and I wasn't there. If I would have been home you would have told me."

"Awsten," I caught his hand under the table. "First I'm so in love with you."

My other hand moved to his cheek where my thumb ran light along the stubble that was coming in.

"And I'm really sorry," I continued. "Being away from you is really hard, but I'd rather be without you for a few weeks than be without you at all. I've meant everything I've ever said to you about our lives, marriage, kids...Do you need more from me while you're here? Is this why you aren't sleeping?"

"I think it's part of it," He gave a small nod. "It's a lot of things. Trying to make so many people happy while being halfway across the world, the record label shit, exhaustion...I wish I could go back to therapy. I can't while we're over here."

"When we go home though that would be good." I moved my thumb along his cheek. "Maybe some meds too?"

"I hate meds."

"Me too, but it could help. What you really need here is sleep. It's making your anxiety worse."

"I don't know how to get things to quiet down." He kept his eyes down at our hands. "My mind races and I just...it jumps from one thing to another. Things that don't even matter right now. Constantly comparing myself to other people or asking myself why we aren't farther along as a band. Like what if this all just goes away? Then what? How can I possibly provide for you and our family and-"

"Hey," I hushed him gently. "We will figure that out together. You're putting unnecessary pressure on yourself. Remember, you said it yourself - this is us. You and me. Your problems are my problems too."

"Okay but when you don't tell me certain things how am I supposed to-"

"You don't trust me?" It came out as a squeak and I dropped my hands. "You've been keeping this from me before today."

"It's not that," He shook his head. "It's just my head. I don't talk to anyone about it, Tatum."

"But I'm not just anyone."

"Can we please change the subject and have a nice breakfast-"

"No." I kept my eyes on him as he looked forward, clenching his jaw again. "We don't have to fight about it. We can just talk. We need to talk about this, Awsten."

He stayed quiet for a minute, running his tongue over his teeth before he opened his mouth. "I had a panic attack a couple of weeks ago. Like...four days into tour."

"What?" I asked softly.

"Yeah." He cleared his throat, looking back at the menu that was half German and half English. "What are you getting? Waffles?"