Last and Forever

by Brooke, Rebecca

  “I know.”

  He nodded and walked out the door, shutting it behind him again. I scrubbed a hand over the top of my hair. It was shorter than I was used to, but it worked for office life.

  That conversation was not what I’d been expecting. The collar of my shirt felt too restricting. I unbuttoned the top button, needing the air. What brought on my dad’s change of course today? Whatever it was, I hoped today’s conversation would be enough to deter him from going back down that road again.

  More likely he would go home and tell my mom all about what happened and beg her not to say anything, which would be almost impossible. Mom never shied away from staying what was on her mind.

  I stared at the folders, unable to pick up a single one of them. My mind was consumed with the music I walked away from. How Christine had been such a vital piece of that part of my life. I didn’t think I’d ever be able to play again. And I wouldn’t give anyone false hope that it could be a possibility.

  The rest of the day passed in a blur. None of the files I planned to finish had been touched. They’d have to sit there until Monday. Hopefully, my head would be back in the game after a weekend at home. Unlikely, considering Mondays were the days I came to the office and did my best to push the weekend of nightmares out of my head.

  For the first time since I started working for my father, I shut down my computer and packed up my things at five on the dot. Very few people had left for the day, most were just collecting their things to get out of there for the weekend.

  With my head down, trying to avoid eye contact, I moved through the desks on the main part of the floor and raced to the front door. I unlocked my door the minute the car came into view, climbing in and slamming it behind me.

  I laid my head against the seat and closed my eyes, bracing myself for the silence I’d face the moment I stepped inside the house. Not actual silence, but the tense silence of Christine’s missing voice.

  I tugged on the knot at the base of my neck, pulling the tie loose. It felt like I could breathe again. Mom knew I always worked late, especially on Fridays. Getting out early, there would be an hour or two before Mom even showed up with Chloe. Nails scrapping along the floor filled my ears. Zeus came barreling around the corner.

  “Come on. Outside you go.” I yanked open the back door and let him have the run of the backyard, before grabbing a beer and wandering down the hall.

  For the first two months after I brought Chloe home without Christine, Zeus refused to leave Chloe’s side. No matter where she slept or where she was in the house, Zeus was always there. There would be nights when I woke up to Zeus whining, sitting on the floor, watching Christine’s side of the bed.

  If my heart already hadn’t been a tattered mess, it would have ripped it to shreds.

  I pushed open Chloe’s door, staring at the pink and purple room my mom had insisted on decorating when I decided to move back to Westlake. In direct contrast to the nursery Christine and I had decorated. It was a stark contrast to the rest of the house. White walls with no decorations. I simply couldn’t bring myself to care about what knick-knacks adorned the shelves.

  The whole place was the exact opposite of my house with Christine. The sleek modern look with an open floor plan we had compared to the two-story colonial home Chloe and I lived in now.

  How different my life had been. A life I didn’t want anymore.

  My dad’s word kept playing on repeat in my head.

  I think you do, but only you can make that choice.

  Had I made the right choice when I walked away? Was I doing the right thing for my family? I hadn’t attempted to pick up a guitar since that first time six months ago. Could I play again without losing it?

  Only one way to find out.

  I shut the door to Chloe’s room and wandered back down to the living room. I picked up the TV remote as I sat down. The quiet and I didn’t really get along anymore. The sounds of machines and the memory of Christine’s sobs always filled my head when there was nothing else to occupy it.

  As I sat down, my gaze wandered to the guitar case leaning against the wall in the corner of the living room. I could have put it in storage, somewhere I didn’t have to see it. Something stopped me, even as it taunted me from there ever since I moved in. I hadn’t been brave enough to pick it up since the last time I tried.

  Today, I couldn’t keep my eyes on the TV. The draw to the guitar was way too powerful. I didn’t know how long I sat there debating on whether I should pick up the instrument and play while I waited for Chloe to get back with my mom. At some point I pushed myself into the decision and forced myself up from the couch.

  I dropped the remote onto one of the empty seat cushions and crossed the room.

  My hands shook as I set the case on the floor. Maybe my dad was right. It had been eight months since I’d played a single note. Maybe the time really had come for me to push past my fears and play.

  I flicked open the clasps and lifted the lid. The dark wood of the body was a sight for sore eyes. My heart thundered in my chest as I reached down in the case and wrapped my fingers around the neck of the instrument.

  It felt good to take it from the case and carry it over to the spot on the couch I had abandoned a few minutes ago. My heart beat faster as I lifted the guitar into my lap and laid my fingers on the strings.

  Each breath became harder and harder to draw in. Almost like there was something blocking my lungs. I took quick, shallow breaths. The room began to spin. Memories of all the times I played for Christine flooded my mind. My stomach lurched and I pushed the guitar onto one of the side cushions and ran for the bathroom.

  My throat burned as everything I’d eaten throughout the day came back up. Not that it had been much after my dad’s visit. Once my stomach was empty, I sat on the floor and leaned my face on the wall, soaking in the coolness of the tile.

  Sweat trickled down the back of my neck as my breathing slowed and my heart rate settled. The thought of touching the guitar made my pulse spike again.

  Closing my eyes, I forced myself to take long, deep breaths and exhale them slowly. Eventually, I got my breathing under control and knew what I needed to do. I turned the faucet to cold and splashed water on my face before straightening my posture and walking back to the living room.

  Stopping at the end of the hallway, I stared at the instrument on the couch like it might attack from its position. I steadied myself before racing across the room, grabbing the guitar, and practically running it back to its case. I slammed the lid shut and locked it closed.

  3

  Aiden

  “Ever wonder what our future looks like?”

  I moved my eyes from the clouds and turned to my side, leaning up on an elbow to look at Christine.

  “Sometimes. What about you? Do you think about our future?”

  A smile lifted the corner of her lips, her eyes still watching the clouds in the sky.

  “More than I used to.”

  I reached over and brushed a piece of hair from her face, tucking it behind her ear. “Yeah? What do you think about?”

  She reached for my hand and brought it to her lips before holding it against her chest. “I think about you becoming a world famous rock star. Living your dream.”

  “But what about us?”

  “I think about us traveling the world together. Always being by your side. Knowing every woman thinks I’m the luckiest woman in the world.”

  I rolled on top of her, using my forearms to keep most of my weight off her. “I think you have that backward. I’m pretty sure they’d say how lucky I am to have nabbed a woman like you.”

  I pressed my mouth to hers. Her lips parted and I slipped my tongue inside, tangling it with hers. The sweet taste of her was like floating on one of the clouds above our heads. I slipped my hands into her hair, tilting her head, reveling in our connection. Her arms wrapped around my back, holding me tight to her.

  Suddenly her whole body froze at the same time a loud
screaming filled my ears. Almost deafening. I reared back.

  “Christine,” I called out when her eyes stayed focused on the sky. “Christine,” I shouted again.

  Slowly her eyes moved to mine. They widened into saucers. Fear clear in her gaze. The screaming continued, but her mouth was closed in a thin line. Her arms fell limply to her sides.

  “Aiden.” Her voice sounded hollow, far away.

  The screaming grew even louder. I wanted to cover my ears to block out the noise.

  “What’s wrong, love? How can I help?”

  I sat down and picked her up into my arms, holding her close to my chest. “I don’t know how to fix this. Tell me what to do.”

  “Don’t give up on me. Keep me here with you.”

  I rocked her back and forth. “I’ll never let you go. I’ll be with you forever.”

  I could feel the tears as they ran down my face, mirroring the same ones as hers.

  “Promise me.”

  “I promise. I swear, we’ll be together forever.”

  Christine was ripped from my arms by some invisible force. The cries so loud they made my ears ring, but I pushed them out of my head as I ran after Christine. The blanket and our picnic forgotten as I ran farther and faster. It just wasn’t enough. The closer I got the father she got from me.

  “Christine, don’t go. Fight. Stay here with me,” I shouted into the air.

  “You promised we’d be together.”

  “And we will be, just don’t go. I love you.” I dropped to my knees.

  “I love you, too. But I don’t think I have a choice.”

  “Christine,” I screamed.

  “Take care of her for me.”

  “Her? Who are you talking about?” I got up and started running again. “Who?” I yelled again.

  “She needs you.” Then she was gone.

  “Christine!” I screamed.

  I jerked up, opening my eyes, trying to figure out where the hell I was. Wetness lingered on my face as I took deep, steadying breaths. A piercing cry brought me back to reality.

  A reality I didn’t really want to be in.

  I glanced down at the empty space next to me. Cold sheets and an empty pillow. In a perfect world, the spot would only be empty because she’d fallen asleep in the baby’s room, rocking her to sleep.

  Except the world wasn’t perfect.

  Memories of the dream lingered making my chest ache. The crying grew even louder and I reached over, flipping off the monitor. I pushed up off the bed and padded down the hall, brushing the remnants of the tears from my face.

  Chloe grew more red the harder she cried. I reached down and picked her up into my arms, same as I’d done with her mother in the dream.

  “I’m sorry, sweetheart. Daddy was dreaming about Mommy again.” I carried her over to the changing table. “I wish you’d had a chance to know her. She loved you so much.”

  I ran my finger lightly across her cheek before changing her diaper.

  “Are you hungry little one?” Carrying her out to the living room, I set her down in the swing, light pouring through the blinds, and went into the kitchen to make a bottle.

  I had no idea what time it was, the jackhammers in my head making it clear I hadn’t gone easy with the tequila. After attempting to play music again, I found myself buried in memories. Mom had noticed the change the minute she dropped Chloe off. I’d convinced her that everything was fine and sent her on her way.

  Things were anything but fine. The weekends seemed to pass in slow motion. Minutes moving at the speed of hours. The only true definition of time was the changes in Chloe each day. I hung on for her. Without her I’d been even more lost than I already was.

  Once the bottle was ready, I picked Chloe back up and sat down on the couch. She could hold the bottle herself, but I couldn’t bring myself to not sit with her in my arms whenever I could.

  There was a banging on the front door. Before I had the chance to say anything, the door opened and Jackson peered his head around.

  “Hey, man.” He came into the room, but I didn’t have the energy to tell him to leave.

  “Hey.” I looked back down at Chloe. The same green eyes as her mother.

  Out of the corner of my eye I saw Jackson take a seat on the other end of the couch. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees, glancing over at me.

  “When was the last time you left the louse?”

  I shrugged and rubbed my thumb over her cheek as she sucked down the bottle.

  “Aiden?” He continued saying my name. “Aiden?”

  “What?” I snapped without looking up.

  “It’s been eight months.”

  “So what?” Chloe finished the bottle. I stood and set her in the middle of the play area on the floor.

  “You can’t stay hidden in the house like this.” He gestured around the room. The shades drawn, empty pizza boxes stacked on the counter. I knew what he meant, but that didn’t stop the rage from boring over.

  “I go to work. What? Am I supposed to start dating again? Is eight months the cutoff time for after my wife dies?”

  “Jesus, Aiden.” He ran his hand through his hair. “No one is saying you need to date. But you also don’t need to live your life as a hermit.”

  I scoffed. “I’m not living my life as a hermit. I work in my dad’s office five days a week.”

  “Trust me, I know. I also know you’ve always hated everything to do working in an office. You never wanted to wear a suit and tie.”

  “Well now, I do.” I spun on my heel and walked into the kitchen to start a pot of coffee.

  Jackson followed behind me. “So all of those arguments with your dad about where you wanted to go to college was for nothing.”

  I started the pot, then moved back to the doorway to check on Chloe. “Things change.”

  “No, they don’t. The only thing that’s changed is your fear.”

  “I’m not afraid.” I crossed my arms over my chest.

  He sighed. “I’ve already talked to your dad. I know what happened yesterday.”

  I gnashed my teeth together. “Fucker. I knew he’d tell my mom. I had no idea that he’d call you.”

  “Aiden, we’ve been friends for as long as I can remember. You’re my brother from another mother. I can’t let you throw everything away.” He reached out and clasped my shoulder.

  I jerked out of his grip. “I’m not throwing anything away. I walked away willingly. They can find another lead singer and keep playing as Violet Obsession.” I turned back to the cabinet to get a mug.

  This little chat started to head down a path I didn’t want to go again. My talk with Dad yesterday had been enough. When were the people in my life going to get it? When would they realize it wouldn’t be an option for me to go back?

  “You and I both know it’s not as easy as you’re making it sound. And they don’t want a new singer.”

  I whirled around to face him. “I don’t give a fuck what they want. Goddamn it! It’s not about them.”

  Jackson moved farther into the kitchen. “No, it’s not. This is about you and what you’re giving up.”

  I turned my back to him, a lump in my throat making my voice come out as nothing more than a whisper. “If you talked to my dad, then you already know why I can’t play.”

  “And when was the last time you tried?”

  I could feel his presence as he drew even closer. “Last night. And the same thing happened.”

  “Have you talk to anyone about it?”

  My head snapped in his direction. “There’s nothing to talk about.”

  “Aided, don’t give up. You worked too hard to let it all go now.”

  I slammed my fist down on the counter, the anger from the dream still simmering right below the surface. “You don’t get it, do you? I can’t fucking play. Every single time I pick up a guitar, I can only think of her. Almost every memory I have of playing once we split up as a band”—I waved my hand, gesturing between m
e and him—“includes Christine. Her smiling up at me from the front row. Me writing her song and playing it over and over again. That song was the one I used to ask her to marry me. It played at our wedding. It’s a fan favorite and I don’t think I could ever bring myself to play that song again.”

  “Jesus, Aiden. No one said you have to play that song. You’re a musician, an artist. Put your emotions into your music. Don’t leave yourself holed up here, moving from day to day and not really living.”

  I dragged my hands through my hair, tugging on the strands. “I don’t want to play.” My voice echoed off the empty walls. “And if you can’t understand that you can fucking leave.”

  Jackson stood and stepped right into my path. “I’m here to make sure you don’t throw your life the fuck away.”

  I lifted my hand, pointing to the door. My voice filled with deadly calm. “Get the fuck out of my house.”

  “Aiden…”

  “I said, get the fuck out!”

  Jackson and I stared each other down for a few moments. My hands curling into fists as my fingers itched to hit something. Jackson’s shoulders slumped and he took one step back, then another. He kept going until he reached the front door. He twisted the knob and pulled it open, stopping before he actually stepped through it. He turned to look over his shoulder at me.

  “I’m going, but when you’re ready, you know where to find me.”

  Without another word, he stepped out the door, slamming it closed behind him.

  I dropped back against the counter, trying to contain the rage that pounded through my veins. The mug sat on the counter, taunting me. I grabbed it and chucked it across the room into the back of the door. Glass shattered all over the floor.

  Chloe’s cries filled the room. What the fuck is wrong with me? I spun on my heel and raced across the room and scooped Chloe up into my arms. I bounced her up and down, cooing in her ear, trying to calm her down.

  “Shh, sweetheart. Daddy didn’t mean to lose his temper on Uncle Jackson.”

  What I really wanted was for everyone to stop trying to fix me. They needed to realize that I was permanently broken and not a goddamn thing they did would fix it.