Phantom Heartstrings

by Felicia Lynn

  I shake off the memory of that day feeling a tinge of sadness that we are so far from the couple we were that day. It’s been one of my sweetest memories but it’s a memory that contains one of the few times I’ve ever outright refused to give her something she’s wanted of me. But what she was asking, I felt betrayed the preciousness of the original vows and I couldn’t do it. In the end she understood and agreed, promising that we’d never have to renew vows. Now, I’m unsure if that’s still true.

  I grab a piece of paper from the desk making notes of a few of the things she said in the journal.

  -she thinks I don’t see her.

  -she thinks we’ve changed.

  -she’s forgotten who she is.

  -she has no time for herself.

  -her fears consume her.

  I attempt to place everything as it was when I found it and walk out of the library toward the room to get ready for the day, folding the paper and putting it on my dresser next to my wallet and watch.

  I’m out the door ten minutes later with the folded piece of paper in my hand, still clueless as to what to do with this information, but with renewed effort to find a way to make things right. Beginning to plot ways to get my wife back but not just for me, I want her back for herself. She just needs to remember who she is and everything else will fall into play.

  Chapter 7

  Cami

  I walk the halls of the hospital toward Whit’s room telling myself that I can pull my emotions together to do what I need to do for Whit. I wipe the traces of tears from the corner of my eyes, they keep leaking with every thought of last night’s explosion. I chase the unanswered questions of what will happen to us away as I round the corner to her room, taking a deep breath and smiling as I enter the room. Even though it just after nine, everyone is here. The room is crowded and full of multiple conversations swirling around.

  “Good morning,” I say walking over to the bed where Whitney is sitting up dressed in cute leggings and a baggy top clearly ready for the doctors to come in and give her the marching papers. I kiss her cheek and see that she’s definitely in a far better emotional state than what I saw of her yesterday. Alexis is there talking to Catherine reiterating her plans of taking Whit home with her today. Jon is in the corner listening to Garrett talk about something sports related from the sound of it, but Jon is barely paying attention. Whitney is attempting to check her emails on her phone, but stops abruptly saying to everyone and no one, “Listen, I have a ton to do and you guys can make all the plans you want, but as soon as I’m cleared to be home alone, I’m going.” And there’s the feisty girl we all know.

  Jon looks up at her and winks before walking away from Garrett and straight to Whit’s side before Garrett can even finish the story he was telling him. Garrett just shakes his head with a smirk and moves his attention back to his wife. No one else bothers to acknowledge Whit’s statement, but I walk to stand next to Lex giving Jon and Whit some room for whatever is happening but I watch from the corner of my eye as he bends down brushing the hair off her cheek and kissing her there before whispering something in her ear. She doesn’t brush him off. She listens and nods her head ever so slightly and he smiles and steps away as she resumes checking her emails and typing furiously on the screen.

  The doctor comes in a little taken back by the room packed full of us, then goes to Whit’s bedside with his paperwork. Lex and Catherine abandon their conversation and walk toward the bedside to intently listen to all the doctor’s orders. Whit listens without interrupting, not bothering to give the doctor her full attention but as soon as the doctor asks if she has any questions, I know right away he’ll regret the offer of a Q&A session.

  “When can I go home, to my OWN home, ALONE?” she asks the doctor but is looking at everyone except him as she waits for the answer. When he responds telling her she’s out of the concussion danger zone and should be fine to be on her own as soon as she’s comfortable moving around on her own. She’s smiling ear to ear. He tells her that he wants her to wait one more week before returning to work, which gains him a look of great annoyance but it seems he’s immune to that look and continues, two weeks before she resumes any workouts and strenuous activity making note especially of her restriction from any boxing, or high impact sports for three months and even then she’ll need another MRI before she’s cleared for that. She looks down at her shirt as he talks of boxing and picks at imaginary lint on it avoiding the looks coming from all the eyes around the room. Catherine thanks the doctor and tells him that Whit is going home to be cared for by Garrett and Alexis, and they agree to make sure she get her a post discharge appointment set up with her general practice doctor and neurologist.

  As soon as he leaves the room after telling them the nurse will be in shortly with prescriptions and paperwork to sign before she leaves, she tells Lex that she’s not going home with her. I stand aside waiting for the argument to start when Jon whispers softly, “Whit, they’re right. You shouldn’t be alone yet, sunshine. You just need someone to care for you for a couple days.” he runs the back of his fingers down her cheek bone where the bruise is diminishing, but the traces of blues and greens are still there. “Trust me, please,” He pleads.

  She doesn’t take her eyes off him as she replies quietly, “I just want to go home. I want my bed. My shower. My couch. My things. Alone. I need this.” He nods his understanding before responding.

  “Okay sunshine, I’ll take you home,” he tells her, leaving a room full of people left with jaws open in shock. “But I’m staying with you. You can pretend I’m not there. I’ll tuck myself into the smallest corner, you can ignore me and pretend you’re alone.” I watch as Whit reconciles the options in her head as he continues, “But if you need me, I’ll be there. Deal?” he asks.

  We all watch, waiting for her answer. She looks down at her shirt, then around the room meeting everyone in the room eye to eye before turning back to Jon saying the words I never expected. “Deal, but you’re getting the smallest of the small corner. I’m just sayin’.” Then picks up her phone and ignores the shocked stupor of the room. No one says a word when the door opens and we expect it to be the nurse, but it’s Kelsey racing in with arms full of a huge flower arrangement with balloons trailing behind her distracting everyone from what we just witnessed.

  Jon is sitting beside the bed watching quietly with a smile on his face. Every few minutes reaching over to adjust anything, fix her pillow, whatever, clearly just looking for reasons to prove his worth and Whit making every effort to ignore his effect on her. To those of us that have the advantage of watching the interactions for this side, it’s clear as day. What they had, is still very much there. I’m comforted by that knowledge. I don’t know what went wrong, but I say a silent prayer that they’re able to get passed it.

  The nurse comes in a few minutes later with the release paperwork. Jon has her things packed and ready. “I’ll bring the car around to the front and will be waiting downstairs for you when you’re ready, sunshine,” He says as he walks toward the door with both hands full of her things.

  “Hey Jon, wait up. I’ll help you carry this other stuff down,” I call over to him before I kiss Whit’s forehead giving her a slight hug and then grabbing what I can, walking out behind Jon.

  He’s quiet as we walk but I guess he’s always been pretty quiet. “You okay?” I ask, not sure if he’ll answer honestly. We’ve never had much of any conversation that wasn’t purely superficial. My probing question clearly crosses boundaries we’ve never explored.

  He nods, after pushing the button to call the elevator, answering, “I’m a lot better now than I was two hours ago.” And I completely understand that statement.

  I feel a strong urge to help him. I don’t want him to give up on her too soon. “She’s one of the most challenging people I know. She’s hard to read. She’s stubborn. She guards her heart behind a wall of steel. But Jon, if you can get through all that, she loves more fiercely than anyone I know. She’s loya
l. She’s honest. But most importantly, she’s worthy. She deserves to have her love reciprocated in the same way.” I know the tears that have been threatening to return all morning are returning. I can feel the warmth of the fluid in the corners of my eyes but my hands are full and I can do nothing to hide them. “Please don’t hurt her,” I plead, “She’s not as tough as she acts.”

  The elevator arrives and I’m relieved when the doors open and it’s empty. I’m already embarrassed that Jon is seeing the tears that have escaped my eyes leaving a few trails down my cheek, I’d hate for an elevator full of people to also see my emotion covered face.

  “Cami, I love her. I know all of that and you’re right she is worth it. That’s why I’m still here and just so you know, I won’t give up on her.” He smiles as he tells me how he feels. He’s not at all embarrassed by his admission. He’s wearing it like a badge of honor. “Don’t worry, I’ll never intentionally hurt her and just so you know, I’ve been at the door to that wall of steel, knocking for weeks. I’m not going anywhere until she finally opens that door. It’ll happen. Give her time,” He says, turning the tables on me and proving all my thoughts about him. I knew he was a great guy.

  We walk out of the hospital to his car, which is fortunately only one row from where my car is parked. Once all Whit’s things are put in, he turns to me. “Cami, I don’t know you very well. I’ll admit that; but I was blessed with the ability to read people. Unlike your best friend, you are very easy to read. I know you’re hurting right now.” his words almost knock the wind out of me. I was able to hide my emotions from Whit and Lex. How was I not able to cover them from him? Was it my elevator tear session? “You don’t have to tell me anything and I won’t blow your cover to your friends but if you ever needed to talk, I’m a good listener. It’s a trait that people like me acquire with years of practice.” He finishes, then gives me a hug. It takes everything in me not to break down. When he releases me from the hug, I nod and attempt a smile and turn, walking quickly to my car before the waterworks begin, again.

  Chapter 8

  Drake

  It’s been three days since our blowup. Things are awkward for us but at this point that’s just more of the same from the last several weeks. Last night, she did sneak into the room after she thought I was asleep to get into bed. I think it’s her way of avoiding alone time, but I keep up the façade and fake my slumber to keep her from feeling any more unnecessary discomfort.

  The last few days I’ve been building my plan. Tomorrow is the first phase of my plan. I’m not exactly sure how she’ll respond but I suppose we’ll soon see. I smile inside feeling excited and hopeful that it works. She’s asleep before me and when her breathing evens out, I whisper to the quiet room hoping my message makes it to her subconsciously in her dreams, “I love you, Cami, more today than I did yesterday and tomorrow, I’ll love you even more.”

  I ache to touch her, to feel the softness of her skin. I yearn to breathe her in, to wrap my arms around her, pulling her body into mine. I’ve always been in awe of how perfectly she’s able to fit into my side, filling all the space between us while tangling her legs in mine. I quietly accept that small triumph, being thankful that she’s at least in bed with me, and not sequestering herself to the library chair. She’s here. I close my eyes and let sleep take hold, hoping my dreams will be filled with memories of good times.

  I wake before everyone else and put my plan in action for the day ahead. I dress quickly knowing I need to be gone before she wakes, to make this more effective. I take the post-it notes I wrote to her out of the drawer and place the first of many on my pillow next to where she’s sleeping, then head off to put them everywhere I can think of around the house. I want this place to be showered with little notes when she wakes up, so that it’ll be impossible for her not to smile.

  When the notepad is finally empty, I look around the room at the blue, pink and yellow squares that she’ll soon find, hoping it’s a start to showing her that I do see her. I’ve only ever fucking seen her but apparently I’ve done a shitty job of showing her, so I’m stepping up my game.

  Chapter 9

  Cami

  The alarm sounds and I wish more than anything that I could throw the thing across the room. Damn, that dream, I wasn’t ready for that to end. I reach out to switch off the alarm, searching for the button without having to open my eyes when my hand connects with the alarm clock buttons, and a stupid paper on top prevents me from feeling the correct button to stop the beeping. Ugh… I open one eye a fraction of the amount necessary to see clearly and push the sticky paper to the side successfully discarding whatever it was to the ground. I’m not sure I can work up the strength to get through another day like the past many have been, but that dream feels like a bit of a gift to encourage me to get passed this.

  I lay back on my pillow silently attempting to motivate myself into taking on whatever else is coming my way in this new day, but for the first time in a while I feel like I can do it even though I have no idea where to begin.

  I open my eyes, blinking three times when my eyes are flashed with colorful papers stuck everywhere. What. In. The. Hell. I look toward the floor, reaching to pick up the piece I discarded moments ago. I read the words. Shocked. You are my favorite alarm clock. I love you. in Drake’s handwriting.

  I look around the room, my hand flying to my chest. Oh. My. Word. They’re everywhere. I move to get out of the bed seeing one on his pillow. Nothing in the world beats sleeping next to you. I love you. I scurry out of bed walking around the room picking them up and reading them all one by one.

  You are my happiness.

  You’re the most beautiful woman in the world.

  Your smile could light the night’s sky.

  All ending with I love you.

  There’s so many. “How did he do this?” I ask myself aloud as I glance around our room filled with his little love notes. I glance at the clock noticing that I’m getting a seriously late start at getting the children ready for school and feel a little sad that I don’t have time to read all his words to me this very second. I silently contemplate letting the kids just be late to school, craving the time of my own to read all things he wants me to see, but I decide that I’ll quickly get them off and come back to these little pieces of happiness when I can be alone.

  As I wake the children and hurry them all to dress, eat and get their things together, I find that the notes are everywhere except the kids bedrooms. I couldn’t help myself and read several more that were strategically placed and impossible to avoid. I realize after the shock has subsided that I’m smiling. I’m not just smiling. I’m beaming. Even my children who are typically zombies in the mornings are enjoying seeing the colorful notes all around and have respected my wishes not to touch. “They’re for mommy,” I tell them sweetly. They think this is really cool and keep saying they hope their daddy does this for them.

  I rush the kids out of the house on time, motivated more than ever to hurry back home. I find four more notes in my car. Smiling as I read them, stacking them on my console so I can put them all together when I get back home.

  After the kids are safely at school and I have a moment to actually breathe after the excitement of finding the notes and rushing the kids off, I pick up my cell phone before even leaving the school parking lot, and send a message to my ever sneaky and incredibly romantic husband.

  Me: I love you, more than words. But I love your words an awful lot, mister. Thank you.

  I press send and put my phone away knowing that he’s likely in meetings and it will be hours before he has a chance to see my text. I drive home feeling like a kid on Christmas morning realizing that I’m happy today. Even though the last few weeks have not been without challenges, I had hope for the day when I woke up, or should I say was interrupted, from my amazing dream.

  Dreams are interesting. Sometimes I wish I could only have dreams that flashback on things that have happened in my life that I want to remember, but that’
s never the case for me. I either will have no dream or something pertaining to my thoughts, people that have been on my mind, things I wish I could do, nothing real though.

  Last night’s dream was real. I was walking on the beach and playing in the ocean with my husband and kids. We were all happy and smiling. It wasn’t spectacularly out of the spectrum of reality. It was just peaceful. We were all peaceful and having fun. It was a dream that I woke from and want to recreate in real life.

  I pull into the garage taking my purse and phone and feel excited about reading his little notes. I’m dumbfounded at how he pulled this off without waking me. I place my things on the desk in my kitchen and notice he’s responded to my text. I slide the bar opening the screen.

  Drake: I love you, Cams. No matter what. It’s not fake, babe. I feel it in my bones and my bones are fucking huge so that means I can’t NOT feel it. Understand?

  My words to him from a few nights ago come rushing back to me. I know he loves me. I know it’s not fake. I also know this life we’ve created where we only show the good things and hide the struggles, makes the things that aren’t fake appear cloudy. I know I was wrong to say that to him when I was angry. I’m not used to fighting with him.

  Me: I know and I love you too. This is just hard. I don’t know how to move past the hurt. I feel alone in this.

  Honesty. Let’s start with that. I put my phone down and start walking around collecting the notes when my phone chimes again. I’m not accustomed to him responding to text this way so I’m surprised by this.