by Anna Brooks
“And I said I’m not leaving until you talk to me. You need to explain it to me. Give me something … anything. God, I love you so fuckin’ much, and I hate myself for whatever the hell I did to make you hurt like this. Did somebody say something to you … lie to you about something?”
She sighs, and her chest rises and falls. Her pert nipples push through the fabric ... what I wouldn’t give to touch them right now. Touch her, hold her, love her, reassure her.
“If you can’t figure it out on your own, I don’t need to give you a reason. You know the only reason I’d do this.”
Still in denial, I walk toward her until her back presses against the wall. My forearms rest on either side of her head. “I do, though. You’re my world, Meara. My reason. And without you, nothing makes sense. I’m fucking empty inside. I’m not even whole anymore. I’m a fragment of the man I used to be.” I rest my forehead on hers and she closes her eyes. I lower my voice because I’m on the verge of breaking down. “I can’t eat, can’t sleep, can’t function. My heart hurts, princess. It feels like it’s being torn in two and I don’t know how much longer I can survive like this. I need to know what I did so I can fix this. Fix us. I need to know you still love me as much as I love you. I need you, Meara. Christ, I can’t fucking breathe without you.”
Her lids slowly open. Not all the way, only enough for her to glare at me. “Just because you’re a lyrical genius doesn’t mean you can talk your way out of this.”
“I’m not writing a song. I’m telling you how I feel. How you know I feel about you. How I’ve always felt about you. Please. What can I do? I’ll do anything, just talk to me. Please. Anything.” I don’t even know what I’m begging for. Her forgiveness. Her trust. Her love. Any and all of it. I’ll take whatever she gives me. I’m starved for her, and even if it’s only a crumb, if it’s from her, I’ll swallow it and ask for more.
“You want a reason?”
I nod. “I want to understand. I don’t know what I did. Please, Meara.” I’m too much of a pussy to admit to her that I passed out on the bus. Did we get in a fight I don’t remember?
She looks into my eyes and presses her lips together before swallowing. “I walked into the dressing room and saw you snorting coke.”
My hands fall from the wall, and when she slides out from under me, my head falls forward and hits it. No. Fuck. Fuck. I’ve been completely in denial that she knows. I thought I’ve been doing a good job of hiding it from her. Probably because I’m in denial about it myself.
“That a good enough reason for you?”
My mouth opens and closes, words unable to form. I have no answers, no excuse. I don’t remember any of that.
“Meara, no. I ...”
“You what? I saw it, Liam,” she cries, shaking her head. “I saw it. I also saw the last time, foam coming out of your mouth. Your eyes rolled back into your head. And you’re using again. You’re putting us through this again!”
I hang my head at her admission. She’s right. I’m a loser. A fucking addict just like my dad. “I get it, okay!” God, she’s so fucking right. I don’t deserve her. I never fucking have.
“No, you don’t! You don’t fucking get it, Liam! You weren’t there to see it three years ago. You were too busy trying to die in my arms.” She takes a shuddering breath.
“You’re right. It’s just the pressure of this last tour. I’m leaving the band to start our life, and I just got stressed. I’ll stop. I promise. I can quit.”
“Don’t!” She pushes me once, twice, three times. “Don’t make me fucking promises you can’t keep! I told you last time if you did it again, then I was done. Lee … I’m done.”
I wrap my arms around her and put my lips to her ear. “No, no. I can’t lose you. I can’t. I’m sorry. So fucking sorry. Don’t leave me. Please, don’t leave me. I’ll do whatever you say. I’ll stay sober, just don’t leave me.”
“It’s too late. I can’t do it again. Not anymore.” Her words are frantic, but the distaste behind them is clear. “The one thing I asked, the only thing. And it ruined everything. God, you don’t even know. And I’m not being unreasonable here. I’ve been with you through everything, Lee, everything. I’ve stayed by your side and supported you, but this is the one thing I can’t stand by you for.”
My breath hitches and stomach clenches as I cry. For the woman I love, for the mistakes I’ve made, for having to choose between the band and Meara. For the blood that runs through my veins making me this way. For damaging everything and not knowing how to fix it. And for knowing this is fucking it. Meara is a fierce woman, and even though she’s kind, she’s not a pushover. She doesn’t give second chances, and she doesn’t lie.
She sobs along with me and wraps her arms around me tighter. That’s when I know. This is it. She’s letting me go. Saying good-bye. She tries to separate herself from me, but I refuse, squeezing tighter. “If this is the last time I get to hold you, I’m not letting go. I’ll never let you go.”
“You have to,” she says into my chest.
My fingertips curl into her soft flesh, grasping for something … anything. “Please don’t make me.”
“You did this to yourself.” Her body becomes limp in mine, and I do the one thing I never thought I would.
I press my lips to the top of her head. “I will always love you, Meara.” Then I let her go.
Chapter 12
Meara
I STAND IN MY empty hotel room and stare at the door where Liam just walked out. Every nerve cell in my body pokes and prods at me, telling me to run after him. To forgive him. To give him another chance. But my heart forces my feet to stay planted. My legs don’t get the memo, and I fall to the floor. I inhale a breath, slow and long, trying to gain my bearings, but as soon as I release it, the floodgates open.
My body heaves and shakes as tears drip into my mouth. He’s gone. I don’t even know what to do. Don’t know how to go on. He’s not dead, but he might as well be. I’m never getting him back. His smile, his touch, his voice. The future we planned. How the hell I’m going to raise a baby on my own?
“Oh, God.” I cry into the carpet, gripping my hair to force some pain away from the center of my chest. It doesn’t work. Nothing will work. The gaping hole that’s in my heart will remain. It’ll stay there much like a cancer … slowly eating away, until there’s nothing left. But no, I can’t do that. I can’t be weak; I have more than just myself to look out for now.
“Meara, open the door, honey.”
It takes me a second to recognize the voice, but when I do, I crawl to the bed and push myself up. I might as well be high because I can hardly see through my bloodshot eyes and my feet wobble with every step. Shaky hands help guide me to the door, and I push the handle down.
My brother, Declan, steps in and takes one look at me before scooping me up in his arms. I fall into him and let him comfort me while I fail miserably at trying to gain my composure.
“I was already on my way, but Pierce just called and was worried, too.” He offers words of condolence. “It’ll be all right. You’re okay. Calm down.” And it makes me cry even harder.
Time is useless to me right now, and I don’t know how much of it has passed, but I eventually stop crying and exhaustion sets in. Dec lays me on the bed and puts a blanket over my body.
I open my mouth to say something, but he shushes me. “We’ll talk in the morning. Get some sleep.”
I nod and close my eyes. One last tear falls out of the corner before I succumb to a deep sleep.
* * *
“She’s still sleeping. I’ll call you—” Declan’s voice cuts off. He murmurs a word of agreement. “Yes. I know. I’ll figure it out and call you. Yeah. Later.”
My sore body protests as I sit up and Dec must notice the movement because he turns his head from the little table on the wall in front of the window he’s sitting at.
“Morning,” he says.
“What time is it?”
“Almost eleve
n.”
I push the covers off and pad to the bathroom. When I look at myself in the mirror, I gasp. Black makeup runs down my face and my eyes are swollen. Only about a quarter of my hair is flat against my head, the rest is sticking straight up as if I were electrocuted.
On top of looking like shit, I feel like ass. Like I’m more hungover than I ever have been in my life. Jackhammers pound inside my head and a tornado swirls in my stomach. I turn the water on so he won’t hear me throw up. When I’m done, I take a hot shower and finish getting ready. I feel marginally better but still nauseated.
Before Dec can say anything, I hold up my hand. “You didn’t need to come home for me.” He’s busy, off saving lives, and here I am, feeling sorry for myself. So much so that my family called him to take care of me. I love both my brothers, but Declan and I have always been close. I’m close to both my brothers, really.
“I wanted to. It’s been a while since I took leave anyway.”
I accept the juice he offers and sit cross-legged on the bed while he leans on the wall across from me.
“What happened?”
One question. Two words. Not hard to answer, but impossible to explain. How can I? Do I even want to? I’ve been close-lipped about everything with everyone. Even Char. I didn’t want to believe it was true. If I didn’t talk about it, it didn't happen. But now that Liam forced me to say it out loud, and now that he’s gone, I guess I should explain to someone.
Once I kicked him out of my apartment last week, I got a hotel room to avoid him and I went back to work. I have to work. I need to stay busy and avoid the inevitable. If I were able to do that, then it wouldn’t be real. So I reorganized all the paperwork in the office. Re-did the payroll system and negotiated lower delivery rates for four vendors. I ignored his calls and texts. Slammed the door in his face. Pretended he didn’t exist, pretended that night didn’t exist. My family tried to get me to talk about it, but I refused. Now, though. I don’t think I can.
“I went to see him in Chicago.”
Declan’s eye twitches, and I know he already knows what I’m going to say. He doesn’t respond but nods, so I continue.
“I know you all know about the last time he overdosed, and I told him if he didn’t go to rehab and stay sober I was done. And I meant it, so last week after the show, I found him in his dressing room. I’m assuming it was coke, but who knows what the hell he’s been using.” I comb my fingers through my hair getting the knots out. Plus, I don’t want to look at Dec, so I’m focusing on something else. “Then I ran. I took the train. I took it as far as it would let me. Then I grabbed a cab. Honestly, I don't even remember where it dropped me off. I remember falling down and hurting my arm. I think I gave up at that point.” I shrug and risk a glance at him. He’ll be angry with me for being so stupid. Especially if he finds out about the baby. I’m not ready to tell anyone about that yet. It’s bad enough that Jamie knows, but I called him and begged him not to tell. He agreed and said it wasn’t his secret to tell.
“I’m not even going to tell you how pissed off I am that you risked your safety taking a train by yourself from Chicago in the middle of the fucking night.”
I nod, agreeing. It was stupid, but in my defense, my brain wasn’t working.
“What do you want me to do? How can I help you?”
This is one of the biggest reasons I love Declan so damn much. He doesn’t rag on Liam ... to my face, at least. I’m sure inside he hates him for hurting me.
“Nothing. Go back to work. I got this.”
“Meara, what do you want me to do?” This time, he asks softer.
A shuddering breath passes between my lips, and I shake my head. “I don’t know. I’m so confused.”
“Let’s get you home. This isn’t helping.” He gestures around the hotel. “You need to get back to your life.”
“I’ve worked,” I snap.
“You locked yourself in the office.”
“Work needed to be done. I had a shit ton of paperwork to do.”
“Okay, but you have an apartment. You need to go back to it and live again. I’m not gonna sit here and sugarcoat things for you.”
A smile tugs on my lips and I roll my eyes. “Wouldn’t expect you to.”
“It’s gonna suck. You guys have a lifelong history. Are you sure you’re done?”
I refuse to say the words, so I give a sharp nod in agreement.
“Well, the next few months, or however long it’s gonna take for you to get over him are going to be hard. But you cannot go from sitting alone in a hotel room to sitting alone in an office.”
“I know … it’s just …”
“What?”
“Memories of him surround me in my apartment. Everywhere I turn, I see him.” In the bed, rubbing my back. In the shower with the water running down his tall body. Pictures of us on my wall. A shot glass he got me from one of his tour stops. His clothes in the dresser. Everything, everywhere.
“So get rid of the shit.” He says it like it’ll be easy. Erasing a lifetime of memories is impossible.
“I can’t. Not yet.” I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to.
“Want me to?”
I study him. Maybe I should have Declan go and remove everything. All those memories, the good times, because there were no bad. “No. I’ll do it eventually.”
Declan helps me pack up my stuff and he follows me back to my apartment. I hug him at my door, and once inside, I unpack my shit. I can’t run away anymore. I left my apartment because it hurt too fucking much to be here. But now that I’ve talked to Liam, now that it’s out in the open, I can’t continue to dwell on it.
Who am I fucking kidding?
I walk down to the storage room and grab some empty boxes then carry them back upstairs. Pictures, his clothes, gifts, his soap, his favorite coffee mug—I pack up anything and everything that reminds me of him. Each time I rip the packing tape across a box, I cry. I wish it were that easy for me. To just put the memories in a box and hide them.
I make six trips downstairs to the basement of the building and stack the boxes. Back in my apartment, I grab my favorite fruity bottled drink and hop up on the counter.
Everything is bare. I hop down and walk in slow circles around the place. I move the two pictures I have left. One of them is my parents and brothers and me. It was taken at Declan’s graduation from boot camp. It’s an old shot but one of my favorites. The other is of Char and me at her wedding. I smile at my cousin and slide the frame further away from the other, giving the illusion of less space on the shelf than there really is.
I grab a couple of pictures off my fridge. One of baby Caroline and another of my parents and me. I prop them on the shelf and place my hands on my hips.
No, I need another one. You’re supposed to have an odd number of things on your shelves. I squat down and grab one of my many photo albums. On the first page, it’s Liam and me. Three years old, ice cream dripping down our faces.
Fuck.
I slam it shut and open another. First page. Liam again. Except, this time, he’s alone on his drum set. He’s playing at our eighth-grade graduation.
Dammit.
The next one. First fucking page. Second page. Last page. It’s all Liam. I shove them back in the storage containers then sit on the end of my bed. How do I even begin to go on? He was my entire life. Maybe I needed him so much it wasn’t healthy. Can you love someone too much? Rely on them for your happiness to a fault? Is it possible to die of heartache? Because that’s how I feel. Like I’m dying.
The betrayal I feel right now is so far removed from any emotion I’ve ever felt that I don’t even know what to do. He promised me he’d stop. Never once since I’ve known him has he broken a promise to me. Except now. And I can’t forgive him. What if he’s high with the baby and he passes out or something? I can’t risk it.
I need to get the hell out of here. Maybe I shouldn’t have come back yet. I grab my purse and decide to take a walk today. I need t
o do whatever I can to clear my head, and people say walking helps.
My breath comes out in short pants as I walk down to the lake. Once I get to the rock, I hop up and pull out my smokes, then realize I can’t smoke right now. Instead, I sit back and close my eyes, letting the sounds calm me for the first time since I walked into that dressing room. Footsteps sound on my left side, and I turn my head to see my cousin.
“Hey, bitch.”
“I never thought I’d be happy to hear you say that.” Charlotte climbs up on the rock next to me and leans over to give me a hug.
“He’s using again,” I blurt out, staring at the crests of the waves as they crash into the rocks.
She sucks in a breath through her nose and I hear her swallow a couple of times. “Meara, I’m … shit that’s ...”
“I know. What am I supposed to do? I feel like if I stay with him then I’d be enabling him. But then I feel like I’m betraying him by not sticking by his side.”
“Sweetie, I don’t know. I think if it was just a one-time deal and a mistake, I can see staying. But I saw what happened to you the last time, and honestly, I understand where you’re coming from.”
“What about when it’s not just me anymore, though?”
She pulls her lips in a flat line. “I’m not sure I understand.”
“I’m pregnant.”
Chapter 13
Liam
“NO. WALK AWAY, LIAM.” Pierce stands outside the pub with his arms crossed, shaking his head at me.
“I just want to see her one more time. I’m leaving tomorrow morning.” The last time I talked to her was at the hotel yesterday. I’ve gotta go back for the fucking band. This whole time I’ve been praying, and I’ve never done that before. I begged God to bring her back to me, to let her see how sorry I was and how much I wish it didn’t happen. I promised to quit drinking and using because I need her more than I need anything else.
“No.”
“Please, Pierce. Please. Just let me see her. I at least want to say good-bye. I need it.”
