by Sarah Grimm
She sighed and pressed her face into his neck, her hands sliding down his back as she wiggled closer.
“I love you, Emma. I’m staying with you until the end.”
May 23
I’ve missed my hometown. With all the places I’ve traveled these past few weeks on the road with Joe, all the beautiful cities and towns, there’s still nothing like coming home.
The weather is beautiful. The sun is shining, birds are singing and the spring flowers are all in bloom. I sit outside and soak it in as much as possible, Joe at my side. Never more than an arm’s length away.
I know he’s afraid. Afraid to sleep. To let me out of his sight for more than a few moments at a time.
I’m afraid, too. Afraid to linger for too long, drawing out his suffering.
Loss is an inevitable part of life.
So is love.
I love Joe enough I don’t want to extend his pain.
It’s time to give in to The Monster.
Time to say good-bye.
Number of days since I decided to live: 93
Number of days since I met Joe: 50
Current level of panic: 8/10
TWENTY
May 24
“Alison?” Emma opened her eyes, blinking until the room came into focus. The lights were low and she could just make out her friend sitting in a chair near the dresser. “How long was I out?”
She hated losing time, but there was no stopping it. No staying awake no matter how hard she tried. When her body decided to sleep, which was pretty much constantly anymore, she slept.
“Only an hour,” Alison replied. “Can I get you anything? Something to drink, maybe?”
Emma shook her head and pressed her fingers against her eyes. “Where’s Joe?” Sleeping she hoped.
Al moved closer, crossing the room to sit on the end of the bed. “Last I knew, he was in the living room arguing with someone named Marvin.”
“Fucking asshole,” Emma muttered then cringed. Alison wasn’t much for swearing and the f-bomb was her least favorite word. “Sorry.”
A slow smile curved Al’s lips. “No, from what I heard, he is definitely a fucking asshole.”
“Wow. We need to document this occasion. You just said fucking.”
She chuckled. “Stop.”
Emma tried to sit up, but her body wasn’t cooperating. That was one of the most frustrating things about all of this. The fact that her body no longer listened to the commands she sent it. Being damn near helpless was worse than the pain that never let up.
Alison shifted. “Can I—”
“No. I’ve got this.” She could do it, damnit. Once situated, Emma sighed. “You can get me my journal and cell phone.”
“Sure.” Alison’s eyes were warm and full of concern as she handed the items over. “Anything else?”
“Yes.” Emma closed her hand over the key around her neck. “Help me take my necklace off.”
Instead, Al visibly swallowed and stepped back. Apprehension filled her gaze.
The alarmingly quick rate at which she was failing had both Alison and Joe wearing that same look most of the time. But, no matter how many times she’d seen it, the look still filled Emma with misery. “Please.”
She could feel the tremble in Alison’s hands as she unhooked the clasp. As soon as it was free, Emma placed it atop the journal in her lap. “Al—”
Alison was back to shaking her head.
“Al, look at me.” Emma waited until she did. “Go find Joe. Keep him busy, okay? I need fifteen minutes alone.”
“What are you going to do?”
Emma placed her hand on Alison’s arm. “Fifteen minutes, then you come back alone. I need to talk to you.”
It was clear Alison didn’t want to, but she agreed and walked out of the room.
Emma opened her journal and draped her necklace between the pages. She took a moment to stare down at the key, recalling the conversation she and Joe had shared the night before.
They’d been in her bed, laying face to face, Joe touching her. He touched her all the time anymore—brushed his fingers down her cheeks, her arms. Stroked her back. If he wasn’t touching her, he was singing to her. Softly, almost as if the act brought him the same comfort it brought her.
Last night, he’d been silent, just looking at her as he absently traced the backs of his fingers over her collarbone…
“I don’t think your angel was offering you a key,” he said softly.
“No?”
“I think she was telling you that you were the key. That you still had something left to do.”
“What’s that?”
“Unlock my heart,” he whispered. “You made me a better man, Emma.”
There was no disguising the tears his words caused. She didn’t try to swipe them away as she pressed her lips to his. “Promise me you won’t go back. You’ll stay in the light, even when I’m no longer with you.”
“God, Em.”
“Please. I have to know you’ll be okay. You’re my forever, Joe. I’m just not yours.”
Emma picked up her pen, the blank page daunting. She didn’t know what to say to him, had no idea where to begin. There weren’t enough words to express what the time she’d spent with Joe meant to her. Not enough hours left in the day.
After a few false starts, she decided that the words were already there—in her previous entries, the sketches and mementos tucked between the pages. Instead of trying to retell the story, she went with what it meant to have him with her right now. And what she wanted for him in the future.
When she was done, she closed the journal, securing it with the leather tie. Then she swiped her tears away and pulled herself together. There was one final thing she had to do.
Gary answered on the first ring. “Emma?”
“He’s going to need you.”
Silence.
“Hello?”
“I’m here.” His voice broke. “I’m here, Em. We all are. Here, in Cleveland.”
“Good,” she whispered. “Tobias?”
“I’ve always hated that name. It doesn’t sound so bad coming from you.” He sucked an audible breath then let it out slowly. “People don’t come much better than you, Emma. I’m going to miss you.”
She already missed him. Missed the way his dimple flashed when he smiled. The combined look of frustration and affection he’d give her when she teased. “Don’t let him fall back into the darkness. Promise me. Promise you’ll keep him in the light.”
“I promise.”
“It won’t be long now.”
“Damnit. Goddamnit.”
The tears in his voice tore at her. So strong and tough, but with a heart of gold. “It was nice knowing you, Tobias.”
“Believe me, the pleasure was all mine.”
Emma still clutched the phone in her hand when Alison returned.
Al took one look at her and burst into tears.
“Come here,” Emma whispered, patting the side of the bed. “I need you to do something for me.”
Even though she shook her head in the negative, Al stepped closer and sat.
Her hands shook as Emma reached out, the knife-sharp pain in her skull excruciating.
Alison held hers clenched together in her lap. Emma took one and turned it palm up. She placed her journal in Al’s upturned hand, held it there with her own on top. “After I’m gone, you’ll give this to Joe.”
“Emma.” Her name was barely a whisper of sound.
“You still have Gary’s number, right?”
Alison nodded.
“After I’m gone, the very first thing you do is call Gary. Joe’s going to need him. Got it?”
“Yes.”
“Then you give this to Joe. You make sure he gets this. No matter whatever else happens, you give this to Joe. Do you understand?”
Another nod.
“Say it Al. I need to hear you say it.”
Alison wiped her hand beneath her nose and sniffed. “N
o matter what, I make sure Joe gets your journal.”
Emma breathed a sigh of relief. She closed her eyes, knowing she wasn’t going to be able to hold out against The Monster much longer. “Now,” she said, cupping Alison’s face in her hands, looking deep into her eyes. “You’re going to stop crying.”
“You can’t make me.”
She softened her voice. “No, I can’t. But I can make you leave.”
“No.”
“Yes. Get off this bed and go home to Kevin. Tell that dear, sweet man you love him. Do it for me. Then continue to tell him every day for the rest of your long life together. Do it now, Alison.”
She nodded, but didn’t move. “I love you, Emma.”
“I love you, too.”
Joe stood in Emma’s glass room staring at the lights of the city. Not far away, much closer than he ever imagined, stood the arena. Literally, only minutes from the condo. There was a performance going on. He didn’t know who was there, but semis and tour buses filled the back parking lot. They made him think of the last time he’d been in this city, in that very lot, kissing Emma for the first time. How his pulse had tripped at the first brush of her finger across his lips. How damn good it felt to lift her into his arms and pin her against the bus.
How long ago was that now? He didn’t know. Had no idea how many days he’d even been in this city, as one had blurred into the next until time seemed to stand still. Only it didn’t. Or if it did, it was just his time because Emma…Emma was growing weaker by the moment.
Damnit. He pressed his forehead to the glass, closed his eyes, and damn near missed it when Alison darted out of Emma’s room. The energy shift in the air and a sound too much like a sob had him turning in time to see her pull open the door. With tears in her eyes, tears streaming down her face, she glanced at him then left.
He found Emma curled in a ball on her bed. Her mobile phone was clutched in one hand, the other covered her eyes as she sobbed.
“Sunshine.”
His voice only seemed to make her cry harder. Not knowing what else to do, Joe climbed under the covers with her. He removed the phone from her fingers and snugged her close.
“Don’t cry, Em. Please don’t cry.”
She shifted, tucking her head beneath his chin and pressing her face to his neck.
“It’s okay,” he soothed. “I’ve got you.”
He placed his hand against the back of her neck, fingers moving over the muscles, easing the tension. Damned if he knew whether it did anything to ease the pain, but she sighed. Her body relaxed against his.
It didn’t take long for him to realize he couldn’t feel the chain of her necklace. “Em, where’s your key?”
Her only response was a shake of her head.
An odd sense of loss filled him.
“You always smell so good.” She spoke in a whisper. The tremor in her body sounded in her voice.
“So you keep telling me.”
“Don’t let go of me.”
“I won’t, Sunshine. I won’t let go.”
She drifted to sleep in under ten minutes.
Joe was still holding her an hour later when her breathing shifted and grew erratic. The trembling in her limbs increased tenfold and a soft whimper escaped. He continued holding her as he began to sing—something that often soothed her, even in sleep.
Tonight it didn’t work.
This was it.
He could tell by the way she breathed, how her body would stop for a bit before starting back up with a gasp of air that jolted him every time. She was slipping away and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. Nothing, but not let go of her as he sang her that stupid, beautiful song she loved so much.
Her lungs stopped and he held his breath, willed her to stay with him. Just a little longer. He wasn’t ready. Would never be ready to let her go.
Her body jerked, sucking in a deep breath, and so did he. Her eyes opened. “Joe?”
Not the soft sound of his name on her lips like he’d heard so often. This one was full of pain and fear. As if she didn’t think she would find him.
“I’m here, Sunshine. I’m right here.”
She reached for him, cupped his cheek in her trembling hand.
Joe covered her hand with his.
“I love you,” she whispered. “I love you, Joe.”
Tears spilled down his face. “I love you, Sunshine.”
Then she was gone.
Joe was in a fog—his limbs heavy, weighted down, useless—and it hadn’t taken a drop of alcohol to get here.
Just Emma’s death.
She was gone. Lost to him.
He was suffocating. Smothered by pain and loss.
“It’s about damn time you showed your face around here, Joe.” Marvin was raging, going on and on about canceled shows and lost revenue.
He didn’t give a shit about Joe’s loss.
“You’re playing in Reno tomorrow. Do you hear me? Forget the girl.”
“What the fuck is wrong with you, Marvin?” Gary yelled.
What was wrong with Marvin? Joe expected this shit from Marvin. What he’d never expected was Gary to just offer him up on a platter. Gare, his closest friend, the man hired to protect him, had done exactly that—tossed him, broken and bleeding, to the sharks.
And like any shark who smelled blood in the water, Marvin was in a frenzy.
“You’re playing, and you’ll give the best damn performance of your life or—”
“Get out,” Joe growled. Marvin was poking at raw wounds. Wounds made all the worse by Gary’s betrayal. “Get the fuck out, now. Both of you.”
Gary glanced in his direction then did the intelligent thing and took Marvin by the arm. “Come on, Marv.”
“I’m not going anywhere,” Marvin argued. “You need to get him together, Gare. Pack his shit and haul his ass to the airport because we’re flying—”
The coffeemaker smashed against the wall, missing Marvin’s face by a hair.
Christ, that felt good. Joe grabbed the next closest thing, his acoustic guitar. How the fuck it had found its way into this room, he didn’t know. Most likely a plant from Marv—a reminder to get back to work. The guitar followed the coffeemaker.
It didn’t supply the same satisfying crash of destruction, but it required both men take evasive maneuvers. That was gratifying.
Gary and Marvin vacated—pretty fucking quickly, too—as he plucked the lamp off the side table. The television came next, then the mirror in the bathroom. Joe tore the room apart, piece by piece. Destroyed anything and everything he could get hands on. Not stopping until he’d exhausted all options.
Expecting hotel security any moment, he collapsed in the chair. Jesus, he’d lost it. Tears streamed from his eyes, snot ran down his face. He was a fucking mess.
Pulling a shirt from the bag near his feet, he scrubbed his face.
At the floor, near his feet, rested Emma’s journal, knocked there during his frenzy. The tie had come loose, allowing a chain to slip free. A silver chain.
Heart in his throat, he snatched up the leather book. He slid his fingers into the page that held the chain and flipped the book open. His name, written in Emma’s delicate script, topped the page. In the center, lay her key.
A tremble worked through his body. His hands shook as he cupped the key in his palm and brought it to his lips. Joe breathed in, looking for her scent, knowing he wouldn’t find it on a small piece of silver. He clipped the chain around his neck and sighed. Then read the missive she’d left him.
Joe,
If you are reading this, it means my time has come. I can’t know what you’re feeling right now, but I imagine it is close to the ache in my chest as I write these last words to you. I asked Alison to give you my journal with the hope that it brings you a measure of peace. That you read my thoughts and know just how much joy you brought me. How very much I loved you.
You told me last night I was the key that unlocked your heart and turned you into
a better man. What I didn’t say, and I need you to know, is you were my key, too. My key to happiness. Our time together may have seemed too short for you, but for me it was a lifetime. One you filled with music and dancing, laughter and love.
Your lifetime is waiting for you. And if there’s one last thing I can ask, it’s to not forget what I worked so hard to show you. Life is beautiful – but no one comes out of it alive. So live each day as if it’s your last. Walk in the sunshine. Dance beneath the stars. Laugh hard and long and never, ever forget how very special you are.
You are good enough.
I love you.
When he was done, he read the words again. Then he closed the book and reopened it at the beginning.
February 15
I dreamt of an angel last night…
Joe had no idea how much time passed before he reached the end. When he did, he could only sit in shock. Her words, her journal, that when started she’d meant only for herself, told the story of a woman who’d made the decision to face life with her eyes wide open. A woman who, by some mysterious stroke of fate, not only found and fell in love with him, she’d sacrificed herself for him. All so she could teach him what he’d been missing while walking around in an alcohol induced stupor.
Christ. What was he supposed to do with this knowledge?
He closed the book and waited for his old friend darkness to return. But all that greeted him was the echo of silence. The crippling pain of loss.
He glanced around at the destruction that was his room—it mirrored his soul.
He looked at Emma’s journal, her final words. Her plea to him to never forget how to live. She’d given up everything for him. The least he could do was let her know she’d taught him well. He knew where to find the light, and it wasn’t in this room.
It sure as fuck wasn’t in that arena they wanted him to return to.
Carefully, he tucked everything back into the journal, tied it and placed it in his duffle. He added his wallet, passport, mobile phone and charger then zipped it closed. Pushing his arms into his black leather jacket, he grabbed his bag and walked out the door without a backward glance.
Gary stared at what was left of Joe’s hotel room and the rock that had sat in his gut all day grew exponentially. He’d made a mistake. He shouldn’t have brought Joe back to this. The numb look on his best friend’s face as he’d scooped him off the floor of Emma’s condo told the story. Joe was in no shape to be thrown back into the thick of things. Gary had fucked up.