Heartstrings

by Kelli McCracken

  “I didn’t mean for any of this to happen. You’re the one who insisted on driving me. It wasn’t my fault Adam and Brighton followed us. None of us should have been on the road.” He kneeled before me and gripped my knees. “Please don’t hate me, Jo. I can handle anything but that.”

  “Are you still using?”

  “No,” he whispered his response and hung his head. “I only tried it a few times, including that night. It was supposed to help me deal with everything. Constantly seeing you and Adam together drove me insane.” When his voice cracked, my heart kinked. “I’m sorry, Jo. From the bottom of my heart, I’m sorry for what happened. I’m sorry you lost the baby, and I’m…”

  He glanced over his shoulder toward the bed, released a long breath, then turned midway back and shook his head. The tension between us grew before he faced me once more.

  “He’s been on life-support this whole time, Jo. Now his doctor wants to take him off.”

  A bomb went off inside me—a bomb I knew was my heart exploding. “Get. Out.”

  “Beg your pardon?”

  I rose to my feet, causing him to do the same. “If you even think about saying yes to that doctor, I’ll never speak to you again. I swear on my life I won’t. If Adam and I were married, you wouldn’t have a say anyway.”

  Paxton raised his hands near his chest, palms forward. “Hang on a second. You didn’t let me finish. Adam had severe neck and brain trauma that required an operation. Now they want to see if he can breathe and function on his own.”

  “When?”

  “The doctor is waiting on a few test results. They ran a couple last night and then another this morning, about twenty minutes before you arrived. He said what happens next depends on those test results. If they’re good, they’ll take him off life-support tonight. But the decision isn’t mine to make. It’s yours.”

  “Mine? How? You’re his blood relative.”

  Paxton rubbed his face and sighed. “Adam didn’t want me to say anything, but after you told him about the baby, he made a will. He gave you his Medical Power of Attorney. You’re the one who gets to decide, Jo.”

  It felt as though I’d touched a live wire. My body tingled from head to toe, causing every hair on my body to stand. “What happens if I say no?”

  “I don’t know. You’ll have to discuss that with his medical team. Either way, I’m not giving up on him.” Paxton glanced at Adam once more then made his way for the door. He held the handle and spoke in a shaky voice before he left. “I think you need some time alone with him, and I need a break. I’ll be back in a little while.”

  As I watched him leave, a surge of guilt filled me. Now I knew where Paxton had been for the last few days. Hadley said he’d gone out of town, but in reality, he’d been here all along.

  I’d been fed another lie. Yet I couldn’t be upset this time. There was no way for Hadley to explain Paxton’s whereabouts without revealing too much. I hadn’t remembered who Adam was, regardless if he was appearing to me. Now that everything had come back, there was no point in being angry anyway. I needed to heal and take care of my fiancé. Nothing else mattered besides Adam.

  The pain of what happened the night of the accident played through my mind, on repeat. I should never have gone to see Paxton after the show. Had I not noticed his strange behavior during Rough Riders’ performance, perhaps I wouldn’t have bothered.

  I wasn’t the only one who noticed the way he beat his drums off rhythm. He’d thrown everyone out of whack. Both Adam and Brighton had struggled to keep up with him. Love Unbroken was a slow song—a love song—mine and Adam’s song. He’d written it while we were apart and played it for me the day we got back together. Ironically, he’d played it on his old guitar, the same guitar I’d played since waking from my coma.

  After the strange rendition of the song, I knew Adam and Brighton were upset with Paxton for his performance. It’s why I insisted on talking to him after the show. I knew he and Adam would end up in a fight if he went to see him. It was the same scenario with Brighton.

  At least Adam trusted me to handle things, unlike my brother, who followed me to Paxton’s dressing room. Of course, it wasn’t lack of trust that caused my brother to wait outside for Paxton and I to finish our conversation. It was his self-righteous attitude, one he shouldn’t have had seeing as how he was a recovering addict. Did he honestly think he would get his point across by smashing his fist in Paxton’s face? He should have known better.

  If he’d thought his decision through with a level head, the argument that escalated after the fact would have been prevented. I wouldn’t have felt like I owed it to Paxton to drive him home. It was my fault he’d gotten high to begin with.

  As I released a long breath, I pushed the memories from my mind and scooted closer to the bed. The coolness of Adam’s hand startled me when I grabbed it. I was expecting the warmth that greeted me every time we touched. I got the opposite. Had his hand been stiff, I would have thought…

  A new wave of tears rolled over my cheeks. I laid my head next to his and closed my eyes. This wasn’t fair. We were supposed to be preparing for his first tour, as well as our first child. We were supposed to be getting married this fall. But instead of enjoying those many firsts, our world was torn apart.

  No wonder Brighton fought hard to keep me in the dark as to what had happened. Regaining my memories hadn’t given me anything I wanted.

  The only thing I gained was a broken heart.

  ~ CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX ~

  Cars and buildings blurred together as I pressed my head against the window of Brighton’s car. It was the last place I wanted to be, but I didn’t have the strength to fight with him or anyone else anymore. I was sleep deprived, thoroughly depressed, and a shell of my old self. If something didn’t give soon, there would be nothing left of me.

  Watching the doctors remove the ventilator was one of the hardest things I’d ever witnessed. Not because of seeing tubes drawn out of Adam’s body, but the fact that once they were gone, Adam’s chest didn’t move. Not at first. And when he took his first breath on his own, I held mine.

  Nothing could stop the flow of tears. Not Brighton, Hadley, or Paxton. They were all with me when it happened. No amount of hand-holding, shoulder rubbing, or soothing words could keep me from falling apart.

  I don’t know why I reacted the way I did. Adam breathing without the ventilator was a good thing. I kept telling myself that. Had been telling myself the same all week. Yet nothing had changed. I sat at his bedside, day in and day out, while he remained stretched across the mattress, motionless.

  His doctor assured me it was normal. Some patients woke up immediately. Some in a few days. Some a few weeks later. Hearing this gave me hope, but the one thing that scared me the most were the odds. Some people never regained consciousness.

  The latter is what kept me at Adam’s bedside for the last week. Between Brighton, Hadley, and Paxton, I got fresh clothes to change into and my meals brought to me. The hospital shower was enough to keep my hygiene in check. But the lack of sleep was catching up with me.

  Hadley insisted I go home for a while. She promised to stay by Adam’s side while I was gone. So did Pax. Brighton agreed to take me home. He was also the one who threatened to have security remove me if I didn’t comply. I knew he was looking out for me, but his tactics were less than favorable. I wasn’t fond of being threatened. He wasn’t fond of being slapped.

  “You still ignoring me?”

  I gazed toward the driver’s seat where Brighton was sitting and frowned. “Did you say something?”

  Brighton grunted then tightened his grip on the steering wheel. The car began decelerating as we approached the street where I lived. It took my brother a few minutes to find his voice again, and when he did, I wished he hadn’t.

  “I know you probably hate me after everything that’s happened, but everything I did was to protect you. You’re my sister, Jo, my twin. I’m trying to make up for all the pain I’ve ca
used you.”

  “You can’t make up for things in the past, Brighton. All you can do is move forward and better yourself. Don’t go back to the things that made you cause people pain.”

  As we pulled into the driveway, our silence grew once more. Brighton parked his car next to mine in front of the garage and turned off the engine. He rubbed the tiredness from his face, then turned to me. “Adam is going to make it, sis. Don’t tell yourself anything else. He’s strong and healthy.”

  “You heard what the doctor said, Brighton. A small percentage of people don’t wake up. His chances would be better if he hadn’t moved after the accident. Doing so caused further damage to his nerves. He may be paralyzed.”

  Brighton exhaled. He concentrated on the steering wheel then glanced at the house. “Have faith, Jo. Miracles happen every day.”

  He left the car a moment later. After I exited the car, I took my time walking behind him. I didn’t feel like breathing, much less moving. The sound of his footsteps across the porch gained my attention. Once he reached the door, he unlocked it, then grabbed the mail from the box.

  “Why are you still checking my mail? My memories came back. You don’t have to hide Adam’s mail from me anymore.”

  Brighton looked at the envelopes in his hands and then at me. “I know that, Jo, but I wasn’t checking your mail just to keep stuff from you. I really am helping with your bills.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Adam’s medical bills… We’re musicians, Jo. We don’t have company-paid health insurance. What he has isn’t the best.” He scuffed his shoe against the porch and focused on the planks. “Most of his medical expenses are coming out of your joint account. I know you both have money from your trust funds, but your account is dwindling from all of these expenses. You won’t get the rest of your trust fund until you turn thirty, so I took on your bills to help out.”

  My face burned hot with guilt. I grew upset with him the day I caught him collecting my mail. I was even more upset when Paxton brought me the appointment card Brighton dropped. I still hadn’t forgiven him for hiding the card, but now that I knew why he’d been taking my mail, I reconsidered my feelings. Holding on to my anger wouldn’t help me anyway. And just like I told him earlier, you can’t make up for the past.

  Once Brighton opened the door and stepped inside, I followed. I wanted to go straight to my room and fall on my bed. Yet I couldn’t. Nothing was stopping me from doing so, at least not physically. It was the ache in my heart that kept me in place.

  I gazed around the living room, staring at the walls, the fireplace mantle, even the end tables. Pictures were everywhere, and not just pictures of Brighton and me. There were pictures of Adam and me, Hadley and me, Adam and Brighton, even Adam and Paxton.

  It was beautiful and painful at the same time. Adam and I were in love. It wasn’t just a feeling I had in my heart. It showed in our pictures. While a professional photographer had taken a few of them, most were snapshots taken by our friends and family. The way we looked at each other…

  Love was more than an emotion felt by the heart. Love was visible. It burned bright in a person’s eyes. It weighed heavily in a person’s smile. It spoke volumes in the way people touched. I saw all these things and more when I looked at our pictures. Adam did more than love me. He cherished me.

  “Where did you hide these?”

  Brighton set my mail on the coffee table, then dug his hands in his pockets. He glanced around the room, but his shoulders slumped a moment later. “My place. Hadley helped me bring everything back. And I do mean everything. Adam’s clothes are in the closet. His instruments are in the music room. I even brought back his collection of signed guitar picks. That was hard. You know how much I want those.”

  His laughter was contagious. I kept mine to a soft chuckle, but it felt good to find humor in something my brother said. I was tired of hating him for keeping things from me. I was tired of pushing him away.

  “Thank you, Brighton. Thank you for taking care of me. I may not agree or even like the way things happened, but I know you did what you did because you love me.”

  “Believe me, Jo. I didn’t like hiding anything from you. Adam’s my friend. I’ve missed seeing him here. I know how much you two love each other, which is why I was so upset when Pax showed up.”

  I played with the seam on the couch as my stomach began to knot. “Are you and Paxton going to make amends?”

  “We already have. I know I’m as much at fault over what happened as he is. Probably more. We’ve agreed to be each other’s support system. If one of us feels weak about using, the other will be there to help.”

  It was good to hear that they’d patched up their friendship and put aside their differences. Everything seemed to be falling back into place. The only thing left was for Adam to wake.

  “So… When’s Hadley leaving?”

  I shrugged out of my jacket and draped it over the back of the couch before looking at Brighton. “She’s decided to stay with me until Adam comes home.”

  “Good. I’m glad to hear you won’t be alone. I’m sure Adam will be home in no time anyway.”

  “Is there a chance you and Hadley could, you know, work things out?”

  He chuckled then shook his head. “Forever the matchmaker. You’re that much like our mother. But to answer your question, I have to say no. I mean, I’ll always care about Hadley, but there is too much bad blood between us, too many memories, too many things she can’t forget. I don’t want to put her through that. She deserves to be happy.”

  I didn’t argue. Even when they were together before, something seemed off. They both cared about each other, but the spark wasn’t there. Not the way it was with Adam and me. Maybe I was biased.

  “Okay, sis, I’m going to head home to shower, eat, and crash for a few. I’ll be back over in a little while. Promise me you’ll go to bed. You need some sleep.”

  Nodding my head, I forced myself to smile. I knew he wouldn’t leave unless I convinced him I’d be okay. I wanted to be okay. I just couldn’t guarantee anything. Paxton was right. The heart couldn’t think. It could only feel.

  And until Adam woke and came back to me, I wouldn’t feel peace. I wouldn’t feel anything but the hole inside my chest.

  * * *

  The clock in the dining room chimed to the hour of one. Brighton would be pissed if he knew I was still awake. I should have been asleep an hour ago, but I couldn’t lie down. I’d been too busy going through Adam’s things.

  I stroked the arm of his blue flannel, the same one I put on the minute I spotted it inside the closet. Of all his shirts, this one was my favorite because it made his eyes stand out when he wore it. Plus, it smelled like him. I loved the scent of his skin, with or without cologne.

  Taking slow steps, I made my way past the dining area and the room where Hadley was staying. I didn’t stop until I came to the door at the end of the hall, the same door that opened into the music room.

  As I leaned my body against the doorframe, I surveyed the room, spotting not only an acoustic guitar, but also electric and bass guitars. On the wall opposite the windows was a soundboard that Adam purchased a few months ago. I could still see him sitting in front of it, playing around with a song he wrote. He’d asked for my assistance and had me play the piano, which sat adjacent to the equipment.

  Moving further into the room, I crept across the floor in the same direction as the piano. Brighton and I had sat in front of it a few weeks ago before Hadley showed up. It was the same day I thought I’d seen Adam on the beach.

  I still hadn’t figured out why he appeared to me. Perhaps my subconscious was trying to remind me of him, or I’d zoned out and daydreamed. Either sounded plausible.

  Stroking the length of the piano, I moved to the bench and lowered myself to the cushioned seat. I examined the ivory keys as a melody played through my head. It was the same tune I’d been playing on my guitar, the same one Adam played on his guitar the day we worked on
the song.

  Staring in silence, the reality of what I’d remembered was hard to digest. For weeks I thought I was creating a song from my own imagination. In a way, I had. Adam wrote the lyrics but I was the one who’d come up with the melody.

  Wiggling my fingers, I placed them on the neutrals and accidentals. My damaged fingers burned when I extended them, which had me hesitating. What was I thinking? I couldn’t play this piano. I was lucky I could strum my guitar. Yet something within me refused to stop.

  I closed my eyes and worked my good hand over the keys. It took me a moment, but I warmed those fingers up enough that I felt like I could use them. The other hand, well, that was a different story. Each time I pressed my fingers against the keys, a sharp searing pain would force me to stop.

  My heart pinched. This was my worst fear, next to losing Adam. I couldn’t play my piano anymore, not the way I used to play. As much as I didn’t want to face the truth, I had to. My life with the symphony was over. I’d never play piano the same again.

  Tears formed behind my lids. Had they been open, my face would be covered with moisture. Instead, I squeezed them tighter, refusing to give up on my greatest passion. Giving up on playing would be like giving up on Adam recovering. I couldn’t bear the thought of either.

  Gritting my teeth, I began working my fingers again, pushing myself to strike the keys quick enough. Luckily, the song my fiancé and I were creating was slow. I’d never pull this off if it had a faster tempo. It was taking everything in me to keep my fingers moving at the pace they were.

  The more the song unfolded, the more memories tumbled through my mind. Some took my breath away, like the one of Adam and me sitting on the rocks near the shore. They were the same rocks I was sitting on the day I’d taken the guitar outside to play. In the memory, we weren’t playing music. We were looking at the sky and counting the stars that were appearing in the East as the sun set in the West.