“You’re still here.” I look up to see the same blonde.
“Still here, sweetheart.” She ignores my annoyance and focuses on what’s supposed to be a term of endearment. If she only knew I call all my one-night stands sweetheart.
“Well, I think it’s time for a little competition.” She walks close enough to rub behind me and grabs a stick. “Rack the balls, I’ll hold your stick.” She arches an eyebrow.
Fuck. This woman isn’t shy. “I’m good.” My attempt is weak.
“One game. You’ve been here all alone. You look like you could use some company.”
I hold up two fingers to Scott so he can get me my beers and prepare for the game. If Blondie doesn’t like beer, then she’s on her own.
I chug half when Scott drops it off, grateful for bartender friends.
“So, what’s your name?” Blondie asks and I raise an eyebrow. She’s shitting me, right?
“Cole.”
“I’m Angie,” she smiles. It’s supposed to be seductive, and I’m sure to any other male it would be.
“Nice to meet you. You wanna break?”
“Sure.” Is this chick fucking with me or does she really not know who I am? I find it hard to believe. It won’t be the first time a woman pretends not to know who any of us are to try to get in our pants. We’ve had to be more careful with hook-ups since our fame exploded. You’d be surprised what some women would do for bragging rights and exclusive interviews with cheesy, gossip magazines.
I play silently, answering a few of her questions, until she sidles up real close and puts her arm on my shoulder. Before I realize what’s happening, she leans into my ear and whispers, “How about we get out of here?”
I shake my head, but fuck, if feeling her breasts against my side doesn’t get a reaction out of me.
“Come on, Cole.” Her warm breath tickles my neck and her arm snakes down my body. I grip her wrist before she reaches her goal, and I shake my head.
“I said no.” My jaw clenches.
That’s when I hear giggles. I look to the side and see a group of women, one with her phone facing me.
“If I were you, I’d go back to your friends and leave me alone. Not in the mood to get felt up by some stranger, who probably uses her looks to get in men’s pants for lack of offering anything else to them. Sweetheart, gain some self-respect.”
I walk around her, pay Scott, and leave. I wouldn’t be surprised if a picture pops up somewhere. Manipulative bitches seeking some quick fame and a few bucks.
I speed out of the parking lot and down the street, my mood no better than it was this morning. Fuck it.
I pull into Bri’s driveway and slam the door. Everything inside me says this is a bad idea, but my ego and pride are leading my body to her front door, screaming for me to see her.
“Hey, Cole.” Bri answers the door, her eyebrows furrowed.
“Hi.”
“Want to come in?” She tilts her head.
“Listen, I know you’re hurting. I know losing Josh was tremendously painful, but Bri, you gotta let go. You can’t let this cloud follow you around, drowning you in sadness. I can’t imagine what it feels like to lose someone you love that much, but if I were Josh, I’d want you to be happy. I’d want you to move on and live your life. I’d love you enough to want that for you.”
“What the fuck do you know about losing someone you care about? Even you said it, you’ve never lost anyone this close to you unexpectedly.”
“Unexpectedly? Come on, Bri, you can’t be that naïve. You always knew the probability of Josh dying was high whenever he was out there fighting. We all knew it. And it sucks. I get it. We all cared about Josh, but damn it, move on. It’s time. Put on your big girl panties and live.”
“Fuck you, Cole. You have no idea what this feels like. You have no idea what it’s like to lie on that bed and not have him next to me. I wish I would’ve died too! You’re a real winner, coming here and calling me out for the way I choose to grieve my husband’s death. A real fucking hypocrite for coming and being a friend when in reality you think I’m an idiot.” Her voice gets louder with each word she speaks, and soon the neighbors are going to come see what’s going on.
“Shhh… Bri. Don’t yell.”
“No! Don’t you dare now come and tell me not to react. How dare you show up at my house after I apologized for losing it last night and tell me how to live my life?” Tears are streaming down her face, and all I want to do is kiss them away. I reach out for her hand but she pulls away, shaking her head.
“Bri—”
“Fuck, off, Cole,” she spits.
“I can’t! I can’t fucking leave you alone. Why? You want to know why? If you’d been aware of what the hell is going on around you, you’d realize it’s because I fucking care about you. It kills me to see you like this, but it kills me even more that I’ll never be the man you want.”
“Get out,” she says eerily quiet.
“With fucking pleasure.” I turn and leave. By the time I’m in the car, her door is already closed and Bri is nowhere to be found.
I just fucked up royally.
I call Cash and tell him I’m going over.
“What did you do?” Olivia seethes when she opens the door. Shit. Before I can cover myself, she’s slapping my shoulders and arms. “You promised you wouldn’t hurt her!”
“Baby…” I hear Cash behind her.
“No, Cash. Don’t you dare.” I stare at Olivia, pissed as a violent storm tearing up a town.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt her,” I whisper lousily.
“I’m going to Bri’s. Fix this.” She looks at Cash. To me, she just growls with disgust and walks to her car.
“Fuck,” I murmur.
“No shit,” responds Cash.
“Bri?” I hear Olivia’s voice, and I’m grateful that she decided to bring the spare key she has for my house. “Bri?” Her voice gets closer, but I can’t call out.
I continue to soak the pile around me with my tears, mute except for my quiet cries. Cries that I pray would bring back the one person who could console me. But they can’t, because he’s resting six feet under in a wooden box, layers of dirt upon dirt keeping him there. Actually, the shots that killed him are keeping him there.
“Here you are.” Olivia’s soft voice rings around my closet. “Oh, Bri.”
As soon as Cole left, I lost any sense of control I had and allowed my emotions to overcome me, tearing through me, shattering the small bits of sanity I had intact. Now, I lie on the floor of my closet, in a mess of clothes that I tore from the hangers as I inhale the small lingering scent that’s left of Josh.
As soon as his scent disappears forever, so will he. It’s only a matter of time. I can only hold on for so long, but I’m attempting to grasp what I can of him before life yanks him completely away.
Olivia sits next to me and soothingly rubs my back. “It’s okay, babe.” She calms me. I cry more, realization stamping me with a notice. Eventually all of this will have to go, or I’ll end up desolate from the world.
I hate that Cole showed up here and started yelling at me. I hate that he thinks he has a right to come to my house and tell me how to grieve.
“I’m so angry,” I tell Liv. “The anger swallows me. How can someone come here and tell me what to do and how to get over Josh? How can anyone understand what I’m going through if they’ve never lost the most important person in their life?”
“I know, sweetie. He had no right to.”
I shake my head, burying it back in Josh’s clothes, and cry. I thought Cole was my friend. I thought he was helping me, so I could be happy again, not because he had an agenda. All he wanted was to…
I can’t even finish that thought.
“What exactly happened? Do you want to talk about it?” Olivia asks.
“Not really,” I say against one of Josh’s shirts.
“Bri, look at me.” I stare into dark blue eyes, clouded with uncerta
inty. “What can I do?”
“Just be here,” I whisper. My throat is pained from my yelling and wailing. I take a few deep breaths and sit up, facing Liv. I see Dixie crawl out from under the bed and laughter bubbles in my throat. She looks confused and scared as she looks around before coming over to me.
“Sorry, girl.” I touch her soft, wavy fur.
“Getting her was a good idea,” Olivia comments as she also pets Dixie.
“Yeah. She keeps me company and usually knows when to cuddle close and when to hide under the bed, apparently.” I can’t help the giggle. God. I look around the closet. Most of Josh’s clothes is thrown around me, hangers dangling from the poles and others on the floor. His shoes buried under the mess of fabrics.
“This is a disaster.”
“Do you want me to help you clean it up?” Liv offers.
I shake my head. “Not today. I’m not sure it’d make sense to hang it back up where it was, but I’m not ready to pack it up, either.”
“Okay.” Olivia looks around unsure of what to do or say.
“Want wine?” I ask, attempting to smile.
“Always.” Olivia squeezes my hand and stands.
“Wait. Can you drink wine?” I ask her, looking down at her belly.
“All clear so far.” She smirks. One day she’s going to make an amazing mother.
“It will happen when the time is right,” I reassure her. I know Liv, and I know she half expects to get pregnant on their first try.
“Yeah. That’s what Cash says.”
We walk into the kitchen with Dixie on our tails, and I uncork a bottle of red wine. After a few sips, I’m ready to speak.
“I just can’t believe I was such an idiot. I honestly thought Cole was checking in on me because he wanted to make sure I was okay. Not because of anything else.”
Olivia frowns. “How long have you known?” I squint my eyes.
“Since last night. You were too upset, but I noticed immediately the way he hugged you. Hell, the way he ran off after you when you heard the song. I confronted Cash about it and Cole overheard and came clean. I did think it was weird when I saw him show up here unannounced.”
“Cash knows? Does everyone know? Was I some sad joke?”
“No. I don’t think everyone knew until last night. It was too obvious how he reacted toward you.”
“He’d come hang out. I never thought anything of it. I wasn’t in that mindset. It was nice to have company, and he wouldn’t really make me talk about anything. We’d just discuss the band and work. You know I love the guys, but…”
“I get it. You’ve always had Josh.”
“Yeah, had.” I drink more wine. “I’m pathetic.”
“No. This is a process. It will take a while for you to move forward, but as long as you’re doing things that will get you there, you’re doing the right thing. No one’s grieving experience is the same. Besides, aren’t there like twelve steps to grieve?”
“I think that’s twelve sobriety steps,” I giggle.
“Whatever.” Olivia laughs. “You know what I mean. I know there are steps to this. Hey! Actually, now that you mention sobriety, why don’t you talk to Mikayla?”
I look at Olivia as if she’s talking gibberish. What does Tyler Hunt’s fiancé have to do with this?
“Mikayla teaches art classes as a form of therapy. I think she works more with abused women, but it might be something helpful. Sam, her old therapist, owns the center. That’s who Mikayla was with when we ran into her.”
I remember the woman with dark eyes. “I don’t know. The most art I can do is stick figures, and even those are a little crooked.”
Olivia chuckles and says, “It’s supposed to be helpful. It could be a way to release your emotions?” She shrugs. “What do I know, though?”
“You and Cash really believe in shrinks, huh? First he suggests I see a therapist, and now you tell me to go to some art therapy class.”
“If it works, why not?”
“I don’t know.”
“Well, if you decide, let me know. She teaches the classes when they’re on break from touring.”
“Okay.” I finish off my glass of wine and replay my conversation with Cole. Well, I wouldn’t call it a conversation—more of a yelling competition to see who was angrier. I think I won.
“Do you think you’ll ever date again?” Liv interrupts my thoughts.
“I don’t think Cole—”
“I’m not talking about Cole. I mean in general. I have no idea how I would react if I lost Cash, yet we’re still so young.” Olivia frowns. “And I don’t know what happened here, but for what it’s worth, he was pretty messed up when he showed up at the house.”
“I don’t know, Liv. I can’t think about that right now because I’m still so involved with Josh. He was my husband, my first love. He was everything to me. We were together for over twelve years. How do you move on from that when neither person fell out of love?”
“I don’t know, but you can’t hold on to his ghost forever, either. You want him to rest peacefully, right?”
I slowly nod. I do want Josh to find peace, yet I can’t seem to release him. I want to hold on to him forever. Thing is, all I’m holding on to is the memory of him. You can’t grasp the essence of a person like you would a physical body.
“Maybe I’ll always be the thirty-three-year-old widow.”
“I’m sorry to break it to you, Bri, but you’re not always going to be this young and pretty.” Olivia giggles.
“Jerk.” I shove her shoulder. “You know what I mean.”
“A widow.” She nods. “Yeah, you’ll always be that, but one day you can add to that. One day you can be a mother, and a wife again. Widow doesn’t have to become your identity unless you allow it to. You’re more than that.”
I shake my head. “Those things belonged to Josh.”
“Time heals all wounds,” she responds.
Once Olivia leaves, I change into pajamas and go to bed. The weight of the day crushes me, making it difficult to breathe. Cole likes me. Olivia thinks I should date at some point in my life again. Dixie is scared of my closet-trashing antics. And at the end of the day, I lie in bed alone.
“Babe? You there? I’m sure you saw the cluster fuck that has become my life. Can you believe it? It all started when I broke down at Riot, of all places, because they played our song. It was a mess. I’m sorry that another person has feelings for me, but I swear I don’t. I love you. I always will. My heart will always belong to you, like it did that first day we met back in college.” I smile at the memory.
The first time I saw Josh, I knew I’d be his forever. We were so young then, twenty years old. I was walking to class at the University of Tennessee and I felt someone bump into me.
“Sorry,” he murmured. I looked up and smiled, but when I saw his light brown eyes, I couldn’t speak to say it was okay. He was video chatting with his mom and hung up quickly, unembarrassed by the fact that he was talking to his mom.
It didn’t take long after that for us to become a couple.
I keep talking to Josh. “Remember that day? When we first met. You were always so handsome. You were perfect for me. We had a good run, and I wish it wasn’t cut so short. Things are supposed to happen for a reason, but I’m still trying to figure out the purpose for your death. I miss you.”
With soft tears streaming down the sides of my face, I close my eyes and sleep.
It’s been a week from hell. Sunday set up the mood for the days to follow, and I haven’t helped in making my mood any better. Today I see Liza, and I am considering bringing up what happened with Cole.
I hadn’t realized how accustomed I had grown to seeing Cole until everything exploded and we’ve been silent. At some point, I started expecting Cole to be a part of my life, just not in the same way he had.
Guilt has been the most recent emotion. Guilt for yelling at Cole. Guilt for having another man care about me who isn’t Josh. Guilt for r
ejecting him. Mostly, guilt that I can’t be the person he wants. Guilt toward myself for staying tied to the past and also for knowing that at some point, I need to move on. Guilt that I’m still able to live my life when Josh lost his, and I’m choosing not to.
Guilt is gray, dull, and it matches my outfit perfectly.
I quickly silence my phone when it rings and look around the office. No one even heard it. I try to see if the unfamiliar number rings a bell, but it doesn’t. I let it go to voicemail. If it’s important, they’ll leave a message.
Almost instantly I get a notification showing a new voicemail. Making a note to listen to it during my lunch break, I focus on work so I can leave a little earlier to make it to Liza’s office on time.
Between answering emails and working on the Sounds’ marketing, I continue to peek at my phone. Curiosity gets the best of me, and I play the message.
“Hi, Bri, it’s Wendy. Charlie’s wife. Widow? Anyway, I was wondering if you were free to get together sometime soon. I wanted to see how you were doing and just chat. Call me.”
I keep the phone to my ear even after she’s finished talking. Wendy. I haven’t thought about her in a few months.
I send her a text letting her know I’m at work and would love to get together. We make plans for tomorrow evening, yet I keep her on my mind all day. These months must’ve been hard for her, too. We could’ve dealt with this together. I could’ve checked in with her. After all, my husband died trying to save hers.
Charlie and Josh were the definition of Army bros. I hung out with Wendy a few times when Josh and Charlie were both here, but we didn’t keep touch after they passed. They have a child.
I shiver. That must be so much harder. The boy may not even remember his daddy. My lower lip trembles slightly, and I take a stabilizing breath. It could be comforting to see her. She knows what I’m going through.
After rushing to Liza’s office and grabbing something at the supermarket after, I’m finally home. Despite Liza’s encouraging words, my temper isn’t much better.
Love You Through It Page 10
