by Felicia Lynn
Table of Contents
Phantom Heartstrings
Copyright
Dedication
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Acknowledgements
Phantom Heartstrings
By
Felicia Lynn
Copyright
Published by Felicia Lynn Copyright © 2014 Felicia Lynn
First Edition: 2015
Cover Art By: Cover Me Darling
Cover Photography By: Perrywinkle Photography
Editing and Proofreading By: Emma Mack – Tink’s Typos
Formatting by: CP Smith
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of the author of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is no authorized, associated with, or sponsored by trademark owners.
Dedication
For those brave enough to live imperfectly.
With Lots of Love,
xoxo – Felicia
Prologue
Drake
(2 Months ago)
It’s been 4 hours since I’ve heard her voice.
It’s been a full day since she’s looked me in the eye.
It’s been a week since the tears dried off her cheeks.
It’s been two weeks since I thought I lost her forever.
It’s been four weeks since I thought we were given another chance.
Now the sparkle in her eye that lit every bit of happiness in my life is missing, I won’t stop until I can find it.
I just don’t know where to start yet.
Chapter 1
Cami
#1 (Journal ENTRY)
I want to feel like I matter.
For one minute, I wish we could focus on the right now, the what’s important, the what once was. I know it was there. I know what we once shared was special and the feeling of defeat is currently eating me alive, and the feeling that we are so far apart that we’ll never make it back to where we once were, is overwhelming.
I feel like that day changed everything for us. I am consumed with the “what ifs” and what I could have done differently. No matter what the doctors tell me, I’ll never understand how something like that can happen and how quickly it can change everything.
For three solid weeks, I felt complete and as much as the doctors tell me it’s not my fault and these things happen, I’ll never be able to forgive myself and I know he looks at me differently. I see the resentment and disappointment in his eyes every time he looks at me. It’s unmistakable.
I know it was a job that only I could do for nine months and I know I failed. It’s done though.
***
I’ve been sitting by my phone waiting for Alexis to call and update me on Whitney’s progress and she’s finally called. Knowing Whit’s lying in the hospital with a head injury is a nightmare. It was never touch and go, we knew she would be fine physically and just needed time to recover, but it’s her emotional stability that worries us the most. She’s the strongest person I know, and right now she’s broken. Whatever happened that caused this has snapped her, and it’s those unknowns that scare me.
The past few days with all the unknowns have been torture. I thought she was finally happy. She was opening up to Jon. They were good. No one has any clue what happened in the hours before she ended up in the hospital, but information is trickling in from other sources since she is not very forthcoming with the information herself.
I want to say that I have no doubts that she’ll come through this with flying colors, but I don’t know many people that have been beaten down by the circumstances of life and endured them the way she has. I’m concerned. We all are.
“I’ll be there soon. Let me just get the kids situated for Drake to takeover. See you in a few.” I disconnect as I’m walking downstairs toward the family room.
I’m not a person who can handle no immediate answers. I strongly appreciate instant gratification and knowing things will be okay in the end. With so many uncertainties in my life right now, I need her to be able to get through this and I want to do what I can to help her, and at the very least, get back to the Whit I know and love. I may be the motherish figure in our foursome’s friendship, but in many ways I garner so much strength from her. I don’t want that to go away.
At this very moment she needs me and I’m hoping that for just a minute she’ll let me in enough to help. I know carrying the weight of the world on her shoulders is what she’s always known and even when she doesn’t have to do that she still does. I want her to see and feel that she is surrounded by those that love and adore her and most of all, want to help. I need her to see it, I think I need it enough for us both, but most of all I need her to accept it and let me in.
Garrett will have to drag Alexis away from the hospital. She’s been there constantly since this all happened a couple of days ago. It’s time for her to give up her post and get home to her kids and I could use a little distance from my own, as selfish as it sounds.
Being here constantly is slowly tearing me apart, more than I ever imagined possible. I thought I would get past this but things just seem to be getting worse. I wanted to believe the doctors that these things just happen sometimes, that I did nothing to cause this, but I’m not sure I’ll ever truly believe that theory in my heart; and worse than that, I’m not sure Drake will either.
This secret that I’ve been holding onto is eating me alive but how do I explain this to my best friends when I can’t even speak to my husband about it; the man that was my forever, in good times and bad, in sickness and health. If he and I aren’t able to talk about it, how can I explain it to friends that never knew that the little life existed? Or that one day I woke up and did everything as normal and happy, only to later discover the lifeless little soul that was created with as much love as all of my other babies, didn’t survive; that my body secretly and slowly was destroying him and I could do nothing to protect him. The fault in this rests solely in my hands, and forgiving myself and moving on is far easier said than done.
I’ve hidden my failure from my friends because I never had the chance to tell them I was pregnant. I wanted a celebration with them. I wanted to tell them that even though I thought I was done bringing life into the world, Drake and I still created a miracle. I wanted to tell them and selfishly I wanted it to be special so I waited.
When I lost the baby that I would never be able to celebrate, admitting the truth to the friends that have been my constant through all the major milestones in my life wasn’t an option. How could I tell them this? I couldn’t then and I still can’t and
won’t.
I walk into the family room where Drake has immersed himself into a golf tournament. The kids are in the backyard playing and thankfully entertaining themselves for now and as crazy as it sounds, it’s comforting to know the children will not be high maintenance for him while I’m away. That calms a bit of my nerves.
“Hey, I’m leaving, I’ll be at the hospital but I have my phone. I’ll call you with updates.” the distance between us and his look of indifference would have scared me more than life several weeks ago and now it’s become our normal.
“Food for dinner is in the casserole dish in the fridge. Instructions are on top for baking. I’ll have my cell. Text if you need anything,” I continue. It’s hard to mask the annoyance and hide my frustrations of his aloofness but somehow I’m able to do just that.
“Sounds good. How long am I babysitting for, Cams?” he asks flippantly without removing his attention from the television that is clearly holding his focus. “I was planning to watch the game with the guys tonight when you get back.”
I look at my watch. It’s two o’clock. I have zero intentions of leaving my friend that needs me far more than he needs a night out with the guys to watch the game, and it confuses me how he all of a sudden considers time with his children babysitting. I don’t think I ever, in all our years of parenting, realized that’s how he’s viewed his role. Has it always been this way? Was I oblivious to this? Did I create this? It makes me sad and angry that he views such an integral role in our family life in this way however, I believe this too can go on the list of new to us.
I quickly turn and busy myself with paperwork at the desk in the kitchen to avoid him seeing the tears forming in the corners of my eyes in response to his questions. I cough slightly, clearing my voice of the emotions and slapping on my sickly sweet response. “Drake, sweets, it’s not considered ‘babysitting’ if they’re your children, that’s just fathering.”
I know the anger is seeping through now far more than the sadness that could have overtaken me moments ago, but I’m past the point of being able to cover everything and pretend we’re okay. I know I failed him and I’ll live with that but him denying his responsibilities to this family and our four children could possibly be my breaking point with him and it takes so much effort not to scream; but again I don’t.
“I don’t know when I’ll be home but I can go ahead and give you a heads up that I won’t be home to put the kids in bed. You’ll probably need to let the guys know you won’t be able to make it. K? Thanks.” Secretly hoping my passive aggressive answer would get a response out of him, but it doesn’t and it never will.
He won’t challenge me. He, like myself, will suck it up and pretend not to be bothered. This, I know about him. He doesn’t like confrontation and more importantly, he doesn’t care enough about me to fight or show that he cares.
As I walk past him out to the backyard to say my goodbyes to the kids, I hear his tensed lowered voice behind me, “Wrong choice of words, Cams. I’m sorry,” He reaches out for my arm and I pull away as his fingertips barely brush my forearm.
“If you’re looking for an argument, you won’t get it here, babe,” He speaks low from behind me. I know he’s close and the tensions in the air are pillowing around me like dense fog.
I kiss my children and tell them I’ll be home soon and am ready to walk out of the door when my phone chimes with another text from Alexis. It’s a very welcome distraction from my own roller coaster of emotions, and the perfect distraction from Drake to ignore his close call attempt to “talk about this”. I don’t even know where to start with what “this” is anymore. I always thought our love would be strong enough to withstand whatever challenges we faced. I fear I may have been wrong.
Lex: BTW, Jon is here. He’s probably not going to leave. And I can tell that Whit doesn’t want him to leave but she’s barely acknowledging him. It’s awkward. I don’t know what to do with them. HELP!
Whitney may want him there but unlike me, she sucks at living or dealing with things that are painful. She’d much prefer to cut her ties and run for the hills and in this case, that’s exactly what she’s attempting to do now. Worse than that, she’s the master of it. She’s done it her whole life.
Me: hmm… I’m not surprised. Do you have any answers as to what’s happened with them?
Jon and Whitney have been an item for a few months, but even before they finally gave in and gave the relationship a try, they had eyes for each other. They had all the makings of relationship material and their sparks were more like fireworks and entertaining to us outsiders to watch at gatherings and parties. I think everyone knew from the start that he’d be the one to get through in spite of her avoidance of those facts, and no matter how fast she’d run from him or how hard she tried to push him away by pretending they were just friends and that’s all she would ever accept, he finally won. He won the girl that deserved him and needed him as much as he deserved and needed her.
Lex: Nope and I don’t have it in me to press her, so that’s your job. You’re the master of investigation without interrogation. Jon’s not talking either. He just says he doesn’t know what’s happened. I’m heartbroken for her. I’m heartbroken for them both.
Alexis is extremely sensitive to the people she loves feeling any sort of unhappiness. At one point, she was so much stronger, resilient and able to deal with hard things better than I could ever imagine. The cards she’s been dealt in recent years have made her less capable of doing that. If Alexis’ typical mode of handling challenges cannot be accomplished by ordering you to give her the information she needs and wants to help, she’s helpless and lost. Watching her friends struggle is too much for her, and I understand, I feel that way too. Although it would be great if we could boss happiness into life I do know you have to let things run their course sometimes and this is one of those times
Me: On my way. Go home, please. Be with your family. Get some rest. I’m out the door in 5 mins. I’ll text you later.
As I’m gathering my things to leave, Drake walks into the kitchen and looks at me with a questioning stare. For a minute I think and hope that little stare is his attempt to build a bridge between the huge canyons and valleys that have formed between us, but I shake off that thought. In this minute, I still see the disappointment and rejection in his eyes and I don’t want to silently relive my failures right now.
I stow the hurt, deciding he’s probably trying to find a way to word his feelings on being left to care for the children and having to change his plans. I know he’s not pleased and what hurts the most is that he wants me here only so he doesn’t have to be. It’s not because he misses me or that he wants back what we once had.
I collect my sweatshirt and computer bag with everything I’ll need while sitting in the hospital with Whit, turn and walk out of the door leaving him to deal with whatever emotions he’s having, and to handle the household responsibilities on his own.
Today Whitney needs me and for the first time in seven weeks, I’m happy to have the chance to look someone in the eye and not see the reflection of the mishap that now defines me looking back. I’m needed for something bigger than my internal pity party.
***
When I reach the door to Whitney’s hospital room the lights are low. The curtains are closed and the television is flickering in the corner of the room showing what appears to be an infomercial, yet no sound is coming from the device. At the end of the bed is Jon slumped over the railing watching her sleep. It’s one of the most pitiful situations I’ve ever encountered. As broken as I know my best friend is, the man at the foot of her bed is equally torn to pieces.
I walk over to where he is resting his head on the bed rails and he only quickly removes his eyes from Whit to look at me when I reach out, placing my hand on his shoulder attempting to comfort him.
He whispers, “She just fell asleep, Cams. They gave her something for her headache and it knocked her out.” The anguish in his voice is unmistakable and th
e strength to which he is fully willing to fight and stay by her side no matter how hard it may be, strikes a tiny nerve of jealousy in me.
I quickly push that away and dig a little more to find the gratefulness that even though she’s not willing to accept the gift of his persistence and desire to make things better, right now, she has it. I wish I knew what was happening inside her head. I wish I could tell her how valuable what he’s offering is and how quickly it can be taken away, leaving the hope and feelings of ever getting it back unattainable.
From the looks of Jon, you’d think he was standing watch, waiting for her last breath. It’s heartbreaking yet incredibly honest and true to what I know we’ve all felt these last couple of days. Time, I remind myself. I won’t rush her through the emotions that are hurting her. I won’t push her to talk before she’s ready. Time.
“Sweetheart,”
I attempt to push up my efforts to pry him out of this room and home to rest. From what Lex has said he’s been sleeping in the waiting room every night for the past couple nights since Whit’s parents are in town.
“I think you need to go home and…”
His voice, empty of emotion and filled with certainty interrupts.
“No.”
I’ll give him a few more minutes, but sending him home for a few hours is in both of their best interests and I fully intend to make that happen. I won’t press too hard for right now, but I secretly set a goal to get him out of this hospital and home for a shower and rest, before the end of the next hour. This isn’t healthy for him anymore than it is her and even though he’s not my first concern, I know the unknowns of what’s happened between them and the guilt of him not being with her when she needed him, is taking its toll.
Garrett asked me to find a way to get him to go home or to at the very least send him to their house to rest and refresh, and I intend to make that happen for all parties involved. And most importantly, I need to talk to Whitney and if I know my best friend she will be less than forthcoming with Jon in the room, no matter their history.