by Eva Haining
“So do I, but you’re going to be a star, burning bright and sharing your music with the world. You may not see me, but I’ll be watching and cheering you on.”
“Tell me we’ll see each other again. I can’t bear the thought of not having you in my life.”
“I’ll always be here, Belle. I’m just a phone call away, and you know if you’re in these parts again, I’m your guaranteed booty call.”
I can feel her warm, wet tears on my chest. “You’re so much more than just a booty call, Knox.”
“I know. But I have to let you go, Belle. You’re destined for so much more than this little town and this hometown boy.”
I want to tell her how I feel, how badly I wish she could stay, how devastated I’ll be when I drop her off in Houston and say goodbye.
I wish I could tell her I’m so in love with her I can barely breathe.
Twelve
BELLE
I hope he doesn’t hate me for this, but I just can’t say goodbye to him. If Knox had driven me to Houston to get Johnny, I wouldn’t be able to leave. I told him I loved him, and he didn’t say it back. He made it clear that he didn’t want me to choose between loving him and fulfilling my life’s ambition. I never thought I’d find a love that rivaled how I feel about music, and yet Thomas Knox came into my life and has forever changed me.
My parting gift to him is a notebook full of song lyrics I wrote during our time together. I’m too much of a coward to wake him and offer my gift in person. Instead, I leave like a thief in the night, kissing his impossibly stunning lips as he sleeps, placing the notebook on the pillow where I fell asleep in his arms only hours ago.
Knox wanted to drive me up to Houston, but I can’t let him do that for so many reasons. As I head outside under cover of darkness, I slip a note under his front wiper blades. I’ve actually left him little notes around his new home, hoping it’ll remind him of all the fun we had together this month. If this were any other time in my life, I’d have given it all up for love, but love—especially unrequited—fades away. What I’m about to do will be out in the world long after I’m gone. That’s the beauty of art in any form.
I walked to the only bus stop in town and bought a one-way ticket to Houston. Everyone knows everyone else in Kingsbury Falls. You can’t really do anything under the radar. Erwin, the bus driver, gives me a genuine smile as I hand over my ticket, my eyes puffy and red from crying the whole way here. The second I closed the door on Knox’s beautiful new home, I couldn’t control the sobs that wracked my body.
I’m leaving a little piece of my heart with him in Kingsbury Falls.
When I get to Houston, I rent a car and drive out to the rehab facility to pick up Johnny. I’ve never been happier to see him than I am as he stands outside, leaning against the pillars of the lavish center. Only Johnny could look handsome as hell at a moment like this.
The second I get out of the car, he’s on me, pulling me into his arms and squeezing extra tight. “Blue Bell! You’re a sight for sore eyes.” I burst into tears, overwhelmed at everything that’s transpired since we were last in a room together and overjoyed to see him alive and well.
“I missed you. Don’t ever do that to me again. I wouldn’t survive losing you.”
He soothes me the way he used to when we were kids, and I let him, my heart broken as I think back to last night with Knox.
“I promise, I won’t let you down again.”
“Okay.” I bury my head in his chest, letting the tears run down my cheeks in silent surrender.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
“I’m the one who’s supposed to be looking after you right now, not the other way around.”
“Not how this works, Blue Bell. I’m always going to be your big brother. So, what happened with the cowboy?”
I extricate myself from his arms, reaching for his bag to toss it in the trunk. “Nothing that wasn’t inevitable.” I slide into the driver’s seat and wait for him to jog round to the other side and get in.
“Do I need to hunt him down and kick his ass?”
“No. He’s… wonderful and kind, sexy and strong. He didn’t do anything to hurt me. It was my fault.” Pulling out of the parking lot, we start our journey across the country to LA. Johnny and I have always enjoyed a well-timed road trip.
“You fell for him hook, line, and sinker, didn’t you? I knew it the last time we spoke.”
“And the award for most obvious observation on the planet goes to Johnny Reed.”
“Hey, don’t get pissed at me. Whatever is going on with you right now is between you and the cowboy. Did you say goodbye on a bad note or something?”
“Note is the operative word. I left him a notebook full of songs I wrote about him and a few random notes around the place for him to discover.”
“What the fuck? You left without saying goodbye? That’s cold, Blue Bell.” I chance a glance in his direction and see the disappointment in the firm set of his features.
“Don’t judge me, please. I hate myself enough right now. Last night was so perfect with him, and I just couldn’t handle saying a final goodbye.”
“It doesn’t have to be goodbye. Why are you drawing a line in the sand with this guy? If you love him, then surely, it’s worth giving it a try.”
“I can’t. We have work to do, and we’ve finally made it to the point where we’re literally living the dream. I can’t be a girlfriend to a hometown farmer.”
“Okay, I’m totally judging you now. What the fuck does it matter if he’s a farmer or that he lives in his hometown? You and I would’ve killed for that very life when we were kids… having a home to call your own and a whole town of people looking out for you. It’s a damn sight better than what we had, and it might be a good thing to have someone in your life who can keep you grounded.”
“Right, so you’re ready to settle down with the right girl? I don’t think so.”
“We’re not talking about me. And if I met someone who got me as messed up as you seem right now, you better believe I’d do anything to make her mine.”
“Can we stop talking about Knox? I just want to drive and listen to some music.” I reach to turn on the radio, but it doesn’t drown out the memories of last night. I can still smell a hint of Knox’s cologne on my jacket, and it makes me want to cry.
“Sure thing, Blue Bell. I’m sorry, I know this was all my fault. We’d have been in LA already, and you wouldn’t be hurting right now. If you want to talk, holler. I’m going to sit here and be quiet, just being here for you.”
“Thanks, Johnny. It wasn’t your fault, and if I had to choose all over again, knowing how hollow I feel at this moment, I’d still have gone to be with him. He was worth every ounce of heartbreak.”
We drive for hours in silence, letting the radio blare every country song that speaks to my current situation. When we finally cross the state line out of Texas, my heart sinks, knowing that Knox woke up hours ago to a notebook and a lame excuse for a goodbye. He deserved better, but I wasn’t strong enough to give it to him.
Part of me has been desperate for my phone to ring, for Knox to call and tell me he loves me, too. That call doesn’t come. Not in the hours after I left or the days Johnny and I spend on the road making our way to LA via every hole-in-the-wall truck stop. I’ve eaten my feelings along the way, and whenever Johnny takes a shift at the wheel, I stare at my phone, willing him to call or text.
I’ve written and deleted more messages than I care to admit, but I feel like I left the ball in his court. I said those three little words that I’ve never spoken to a guy other than Johnny, and he doesn’t count. He’s my brother.
When we finally arrive in LA, a mixture of relief and regret wash over me. I’m exhausted, mentally and physically. By the time I crawl into bed at our hotel, all I want to do is curl up in a ball and shut the world out for a few days. Unfortunately, that’s not an option. Tomorrow we start recording our new album. I should be over the moon, and I’m
sure when all of this isn’t so fresh, I’ll reap the joy of this achievement, but for now, I need a night to wallow in the shitty timing of Knox and me.
As I finally give in to sleep, lyrics are running around in my brain, infiltrating my dreams, the memories of his body claiming mine eclipsing everything else.
I can’t believe how nervous I am today. I’ve played to crowds since I was a teenager, but being in a recording studio with some of the biggest names in the business, my stomach is churning. I’ve messed up nine takes on one track so far—not the impression I was hoping to make on these guys.
Johnny asks if he can have a minute with me and makes his way into the booth.
“Why are you stressing? You’ve sung this song a million times, and this is the first time I’ve heard your voice waver. You usually have nerves of steel.”
“I’m fine. Just psyching myself out, I guess.” I shake out my arms and legs, trying to loosen up. My body is coiled like a spring.
“Take a deep breath, Blue Bell. Forget about those guys. It’s just you and me, singing like we used to in the back of my beat-up old Tacoma. Close your eyes and remember that when you do the next take, okay?”
“I’ll try.”
“You’ve got this. We’ve arrived. Try to enjoy it.”
I do as he says, shutting out everyone else and focusing on the lyrics. This is one of the first songs we performed as a band, and for a moment, I let myself revel in the knowledge that our hard work is starting to pay off.
By the end of day one, we knock it out of the park, and the only person I want to call and celebrate with is Knox.
Days turn into weeks, and as much as I’d like to think I’m getting over him, my nights are filled with writing melancholy songs of love lost and missed opportunities. I’ve probably written a whole album of songs that serve as a testament to my heartbreak.
The day I get the keys to my new apartment, I finally cave and reach out to Knox.
Me: Hey cowboy.
Whoever came up with the ability to see that your message wasn’t only delivered, but read at a specific time, is a cruel bastard. I watch as the doomsday triple dots appear and disappear more than once. I’m staring at the screen, anxious for his reply, but it doesn’t come.
I can’t blame him. Leaving the way I did was lame, but part of me thought he would understand. That he’d read my notebook and know without a shadow of a doubt—I’m in love with him.
I’ve cried so many tears over this man, and as much as I try to move on, I can’t.
The guys heard me playing one of the songs I wrote in Kingsbury Falls and convinced the executives to take a listen. It wasn’t a song I wanted to put on the album, but they loved it, and today I have to record the vocals.
As I pull on my headphones, I grab my phone from my pocket and fire off a text to Knox.
Me: I’m sorry. I miss you. I hope you read the notebook I left for you.
I don’t wait to see if he’s read it or whether I’ll be taunted with those little blinking dots again, but instead do what I do best—channel my emotions into this one song. I knew it would be hard work recording an album, but I wasn’t prepared for how emotionally and physically exhausting it is. Every night when I crawl into bed, I look around at this stunning new apartment I have, and yet it doesn’t feel like home. It’s just an apartment—a beautiful one—but it feels lonely, even though Johnny has been staying with me.
The other guys in the band have been living it up after hours, so I’m glad Johnny decided to move in with me for a while. I wasn’t planning on having a roommate, but I’m happy he’s here.
It’s two in the morning, and I can hear Johnny shuffling around in the kitchen, so I pad down the hallway to see if he’s okay.
“Did I wake you? Sorry, I’m just hungry as fuck all the time since I got clean.”
“Calories are better than coke any day of the week. And you didn’t wake me, I couldn’t sleep.”
“Still pining after the cowboy?” He grabs some leftovers from the refrigerator and sets them down on the counter before getting two forks. After all, misery loves company.
“I’m only going to answer that question if you promise you’re not going to give me shit about it.”
“Zero shit will be given. I’m not exactly living life in the ‘I-make-no-mistakes’ lane right now.”
“I miss him. Like every minute of every day, miss him. It’s pathetic, and I know I need to move on, but I lie awake at night, replaying that last night over and over in my head.”
“For God’s sake, will you just call him already?”
“I’ve text him a couple of times, but he hasn’t replied.”
“And that’s exactly why I said you should call. Trust me, I’m a guy. He’s into you, so if you call or FaceTime, whatever floats your boat, he’ll answer.”
“I doubt it.”
He walks around the kitchen island, wrapping his arms around me. “Then you’ve got nothing to lose, do you? If he ignores you, you’re no better off. If he answers, it could change your life.”
“When did you get so wise?”
“Almost killing yourself for a high has a way of putting life in perspective. Don’t waste time wanting what you can’t have and chasing a pipe dream. You’re an amazing woman, Blue Bell. If he doesn’t realize that by now, he never will.”
“I suppose. I’m freaking out about recording this new song. I wrote it for him. If he hears it on the radio someday, he’ll know it’s about him. Maybe I could change some of the lyrics?”
“You have nothing to be embarrassed about. We’ve all written songs about an ex or a current relationship. If we didn’t, there’d be no music in the world. And as much as I hate to admit it, considering how down you seem at the moment, the song is fucking epic.”
“You think? Subtlety wasn’t exactly at the forefront of my mind at the time. And I had zero plans to let the label hear it. “Knoxville Stole My Heart” was supposed to stay in the pages of my lyric book.”
“Then you shouldn’t have played it within earshot of us. I promise you, that song is going to be released as a single, and it’ll be a chart-topper.”
“I don’t know about that.”
“I do. So go and get some rest and maybe smoke a pack of cigarettes to make your voice all smokey and raspy.”
“Yeah, I want lung cancer in the name of music.”
“Good point. Don’t do that, I’d miss you too much.” He cups my face in his hands, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “Night, Blue Bell. I love you.”
“I love you, too.”
When the apartment falls silent, I head back to bed, but sleep still evades me. I pull up pictures on my phone—not that I have many of our time together—and stare at Knox’s handsome face. My heart aches as I torture myself with pictures of what could’ve been.
As if he knows I’m staring at his gorgeous face, my phone pings with a text message, and my heart starts pounding.
Knox: You’ll still be asleep right now in sunny Cali. I don’t know why you didn’t wait to say a real goodbye, but I got the stuff you left for me. I didn’t read the notebook until I saw your text. I figured you forgot it in your haste to get the fuck out of here, and I didn’t want to invade your privacy. Hope life is treating you the way you deserve… like a goddess.
Me: Hey.
Knox: Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.
Me: You didn’t. I’m surprised to hear from you. I thought you’d forgotten about me already.
Knox: Never.
That one little word gives me hope, so I hit the FaceTime icon and wait to see if he’ll answer.
The second his face comes up on my screen, I can hardly breathe. He’s still in bed, his hair looking sex-mussed and edible. Oh God, what if it is sex-mussed?
“Hey, girl.” Fuck me, his voice is even sexier than I remember. He scrubs his hand over the stubble on his jaw, and I can’t take my eyes off him. I’m mesmerized. “You okay?”
“Hey, cowboy. You
look super sexy right now, and it’s throwing me off.”
“You’re looking pretty good yourself. LA must agree with you.” There’s a sadness in his eyes that speaks to my soul.
“I miss you.”
“How’s the album coming along?” It’s not lost on me that he just completely side-stepped my comment, and my heart sinks.
“Fine. It’s been busy. Long days of singing the same track a hundred times until they’re happy with it. It’s exhausting.”
“And Johnny? Is he doing okay?”
“He’s good. Staying with me at the new apartment for a while. I didn’t like the idea of him being alone, and the other guys are partying hard, so it wouldn’t be great if he had to stay with them.”
“He’s lucky to have you looking out for him.”
“What’s going on with you? Why did you choose now to message me?”
“I’m moving into the farmhouse today. It wouldn’t be happening if you hadn’t done such an amazing job painting. Made me think of you.”
“So, you haven’t missed me or thought about me until now?”
“That’s not what I said.”
“I thought you’d call. I poured my heart out to you the night before I left, and you’ve been silent.”
“You didn’t give me the chance to pour my heart out. You left when I thought I had a few hours on the drive to Houston to tell you how I felt.”
“So, tell me now.”
He shifts uncomfortably in his bed, the sheets slipping just low enough to expose his happy trail. “It doesn’t matter now. I just wanted to check you’re doing okay.”
“I only left like that because I couldn’t bear the thought of leaving you. Don’t you get that?”
“Not really. I wanted those extra few hours. I wanted to wake up to you in my bed one last time.”
“I told you I’m in love with you, Knox. You didn’t say it back.”
“Because I know it wouldn’t do any good. You’re there, where you’re supposed to be. And I’m here. Saying it would only make it more painful.”
