by E. S. Carter
Was I so hard to love?
Was I so hard to love?
Breathe in breathe out
All of your contradictions.
Breathe in breathe out
This isn’t a work of fiction.
Breathe in
Breathe out.
Can you see me?
Or are your eyes blind.
Can you feel me?
Or are you all in my mind.
You’ll always be loved
You’ll always be loved
By me.
Breathe in breathe out
All of your contradictions.
Breathe in breathe out
This isn’t a work of fiction.
Breathe in
Breathe out.
The last reverb echoes through the speakers, out into the empty space, and floats towards the dark ocean in the distance. And it’s then that she opens her eyes.
Her stare locks with mine and neither one of us takes a breath.
Then she blinks and the spell is broken. Before I can open my mouth to speak, she’s slung the guitar behind her back and hopped gracefully off the edge of the stage, disappearing into a room off to my right.
I watch her the entire way.
The way her shoulders stiffen.
The way the gathered fabric of her skirt skims her hips and swirls around her legs with every step.
The way she never once turns back.
I swear that every word and every note was meant for me. For a brief, few moments, it was just her and me, and she reached out and touched me when I’ve been unable and unwilling to let anyone else get close.
But the truth is she didn’t even know I was there.
What the hell was that?
Where the hell did he come from?
Why was he sitting there watching me?
I breathe out for what feels like the first time since I opened my eyes and met his steely greys. Without care, I dump my guitar in the corner of the small dressing room and slump onto the small sofa.
“Fuck, Rach,” I curse to the empty room. “This is all your fault.”
“All whose fault?” Zoey asks from the cracked-open doorway before walking behind me to wrap her arms around my shoulders in a tight hug.
“You’re so tense, my little berry. Whose arse do I need to go and kick?”
“Rachel’s,” I supply with a huff. “Although I’m guessing kicking it is not your preferred choice of action when it comes to her arse.”
“No,” she sighs dreamily. “Have you seen her firm, round derriere? I’d like to spank it a little, but I definitely don’t want to kick it.”
“TMI,” I blurt while unwinding her arms from around me and slouching down further into the cushions.
“You’re here early.”
“Not really, Aurora is opening in-” she glances at her wristwatch “-ten minutes, and I’m running the main bar all by myself seeing as our other bar worker is going to be busy charming the masses with her killer voice and amazing songs.”
“Did Rach send you in to give me a pep talk?”
Her brow furrows, and she looks genuinely confused. “No, I haven’t seen her since she left for work. She starts earlier than I do, plus the big boss man called her in, he’s arrived sooner than planned.”
I tuck my bare feet underneath me and drape the skirt of my dress, so it doesn’t crease too much.
“I know,” I answer without looking at her. “I just saw his brother while I was doing a sound check.”
“Oh,” she says with a voice laced with intrigue and a little bit of mischief. “The hot, nerdy one.”
“The very same,” I answer unthinking.
“Ha! So, you do think he’s hot.”
“I didn’t say that,” I refute quickly, giving her the quiet stink-eye while she gloats and plonks herself down next to me on the seat.
“Did he hear you sing?” she prods, her eyebrows waggling.
“I don’t know,” I admit. “I opened my eyes at the end of the song, and he was sat there staring at me.”
“Did he say anything to you?”
“What’s with the twenty questions? If you want to find out more about him, go and introduce yourself. Oh-” I smirk, and she has the decency to blush “-you already did that once didn’t you?”
“I’m not the one interested in him,” she throws back with a little bite in her tone.
“Neither am I.”
She gives me a look that says ‘really?’ before standing and making her way to the door.
“Yeah, yeah, that’s what your mouth says, but your face says something else.”
Before I can argue further, she blows me a kiss and walks straight out of the door. It closes behind her with a soft snick, and I sit in silence mulling over her words.
Rachel and Zoey have both told me I’m very easy to read. They both say I wear my heart on my sleeve and my emotions on my face and I don’t know how to be any other way. But the truth is, although Nate’s brother intrigues me, it’s nothing more than that. Despite the fact we’ve led very different lives, I see something in him that I feel in me.
Emptiness.
Soul-aching, chest squeezing, bone-deep emptiness.
Yes, I’ll admit that he’s easy on the eye, but I’m not interested in a man who can be so dismissive of others no matter what grief he lives with inside him. Tragedy does not give anyone the right to be an arsehole because although you might be in pain, you’ve no idea what pain another must live with inside them. It’s not about walking in another’s shoes; it’s understanding that you’ll never know what their heart has endured.
“Hey.” Rachel’s soft voice comes through the open doorway. “Do you fancy starting a little earlier tonight? Nate’s here with his brother and Aurora has already opened so I figured you could do your set and head home before sunrise for a change.”
I blink my eyelids, feeling a dryness from staring into space for so long.
“Sorry. How long have I been in here?”
“Over an hour. Zo said she spoke with you just before we opened.”
I blink again and stare at the space around me, my legs protesting as I uncurl my stiff muscles.
“I must have zoned out. Sorry.”
“Don’t be. It’s not like you’re working the bar tonight. So,” she continues with hope blooming in her eyes. “Do you fancy getting on stage in around ten minutes’ time? I mean, you’re doing an acoustic set tonight, and I’m assuming sound check went okay?”
“Yeah, that’s fine,” I agree dismissively. My mind is slow to process, my brain still stuck in thoughts of haunted grey eyes.
“Great,” she exclaims happily, her eyes sparkling behind the lenses of her glasses. “I’ll announce you, and then you go and do your thing. I’m so excited to see Nate’s reaction.”
My head snaps towards hers.
“He doesn’t know that I’m tonight’s headliner?”
“Nope,” she says popping the p sound playfully, her glee evident.
“Rach, I swear…”
“Sorry, gotta rush. You can tear me a new one later. Break a leg, my little berry.”
And then she’s gone, taking her dazzling grin with her.
I swear if she wasn’t my best friend I’d think she was out to make my life a misery, but I know her heart is in the right place, even if it doesn’t feel like it sometimes.
I stand and stretch out my muscles, take a few sips from a bottle of water and run through my set list in my head. I have a mix of original songs, like the one Nate’s brother caught me singing during my sound check, and a few covers which are typically my twists on songs you wouldn’t think you’d hear played acoustically. They tend to go down well with the customers as it takes them a while to figure out why they know the words to what I’m playing, and then when they finally recognise it they are singing along in my style and not the original. It’s quite a buzz, and I almost enjoy playing the covers as much as my work.
Wit
h a quick look in the mirror to make sure my hair is still in place, and satisfied that I don’t look like a right mess, I head out into Aurora. If I spend any longer getting ready, the nerves kick in and become crippling, so I like to get out and on the stage before they have a chance to rear their ugly head.
With my guitar slung across my back and my bare feet hitting the cool marble floor, I look out across the impressive outdoor club. Almost every area is full, with people milling about in groups along the balcony, and others chilling with friends in the opulent seating areas. Despite the crowds, my eyes find him immediately. It’s as though he’s been waiting all this time for me to return. He’s sitting in the same spot he was before, only this time, my boss Nate, his brother, is sat next to him.
The nerves I escaped the dressing room to avoid, hit me full force, and with my eyes still locked on his, I stumble a little on my unsteady feet. With a deep breath, I snap my gaze away from his penetrating stare, straighten my spine, and head towards Rachel who has just taken the stage.
“Good evening, Aurora,” she calls out to the crowd, and the resulting cheers and applause echo out across the night air.
“We have a treat for you guys tonight. If you’ve managed to catch our headline act before, you’ll know just how talented she is, and you should count yourselves lucky because she doesn’t perform gigs often. Tonight, for one night only, I’m overjoyed to present you with our very own, Halle Richards.”
The lights dim around us, and a single spotlight highlights my spot on the stage. Everything else disappears as I take the couple of steps needed to stand front and centre. With the club dark and the light directly on me, I can’t see the faces of the crowd, only the silhouettes of bodies and their expectation hanging thick in the air. I take a seat on the stool provided for me, adjust the mic and bring my guitar around to my front. With a last fortifying breath, I close my eyes and let the music take over.
Don’t watch me with your judging eyes.
Don’t watch me with your judging eyes.
God. Her voice. It’s unlike anything I’ve ever heard. It soothes, it nourishes, and I can feel it physically running over every inch of me from the soles of my feet to the roots of my hair, and although the words of the song tell me not to watch her, I couldn’t tear my eyes away if I tried.
My secrets are not yours to find.
Don’t watch me with your hungry eyes
Your want is a need that makes you blind.
Turn your head and walk away
My love wasn’t enough to make you stay.
Her words.
Fuck. Her words.
They burrow deep and crawl into my dark places. How can this girl sing words meant only for me?
Don’t dream of what ifs and memories
You threw me and those away.
Don’t console yourself with miseries
You’re not worthy of the pain.
I can feel Nate’s stare, but I daren’t look his way. I can’t even blink. She’s everywhere. She’s all I see, all I hear, all I feel.
Turn your head and walk away
My love wasn’t enough to make you stay.
How is it this girl, this stranger with a flower in her hair, can sing songs written by my heart? Songs written for my soul. Words I wished Laura could hear. But it’s not Laura I’m thinking about at this moment, not really, and I know I’ll beat myself up about that later because right now, all I can see is her.
“Thank you,” she rasps into the microphone. Her eyes now open but not looking at anyone - not looking at me, despite the need I have for her to seek me out again.
“This next song is one you may have heard before.”
She adjusts her guitar, closes her eyes and begins to sing. It takes me a few lines to realise she’s singing a stripped back, slowed down version of Chaka Khan’s Ain’t Nobody.
With her voice and the emotion she pours into every word, it sounds nothing like the disco original. It’s powerful and haunting and grips me in its hold.
“She’s good isn’t she,” Nate states as he leans into my side speaking directly into my ear for me to hear him over the music. “She’s the girl Liam gave a job to when he ran the place. I never knew she could sing, let alone as good as that.”
I don’t answer him because I can’t. All my thoughts, all my words, everything I have is caught up in her.
“Earth to Josh,” he teases once the song ends and the girl on stage – Halle – moves effortlessly onto the next one, another cover, this time of Bonnie Raitt’s, I Can’t Make You Love Me.
“The crowd loves her,” Nate continues, but I can’t answer because I couldn’t tell you what the crowd thinks. I only register Nate’s words because of his proximity and because he forces them on me. I’m oblivious to anything else in this room. Except her.
Just like when I caught her doing her practice earlier, it feels like every word she sings, she sings for me.
To me.
About me.
Into me.
An hour into her set, she excuses herself for a thirty-minute break, and as soon as she walks from the stage and disappears into the same room off to the side, I feel bereft.
It’s ridiculous and confusing and has me both itching to follow and fighting the urge to leave.
“Wow, I think Halle just blew me away. I can’t see her being an employee here for much longer,” Nate muses as the crowd all rush to grab drinks before Halle’s set continues.
“Why?” I ask absentmindedly, my eyes locked onto the door she just exited. “Are you going to fire her?”
“I’d be crazy to fire her,” Nate scoffs while motioning for a waitress. “In fact,” he continues. “I should probably offer her a regular contract before someone else snaps her up from under my nose.”
I mumble an affirmative response, but I know he’s onto me when he says.
“She’s pretty too.”
I hear him but don’t process his words until he says, “Maybe, with the way things are between Liv and me, I could…”
Ask her out.
“You what?” My head snaps to the side so fast that I almost give myself whiplash, and I know the look on my face is likely feral.
“Ah,” he laughs. “So you are listening to me.”
“You mentioned cheating on Liv, of course I’m listening to you.”
“No, I never once said anything about cheating,” he mocks, with a sly smile and a head shake.
A waitress appears a few seconds later with our refills, the perks of being the boss I guess, and Nate takes a long drink before he smirks at me.
“I said, with the way things are with Liv and me, I have more time to invest in Aurora and looking for new talent, like Halle.”
My eyes narrow as I take in his smug expression and far too pleased with himself grin.
“You’re covering. I heard what you said.”
“No, you think you heard what I said. If I were you, bro, I’d have a think about the reason why what you assume you heard bothers you so much.”
My reply is immediate and scathing, “Because you’re with Liv and I assumed my eldest brother wasn’t a cheating fucking scumbag.”
“Easy now,” he warns at my vitriolic tirade. “I get that you misheard, and I get that your head is seven shades of fucked up, but I am not and will never be a cheater.”
The air between the two of us ripples with his building anger and my stubborn annoyance.
I know Nate, I know he’s not a cheater, but I feel like I’m drunk right now, despite not drinking enough to make me more than a touch tipsy. My head is swimming with foreign thoughts and feelings, and I don’t know what to do with them or how to process them. I can also feel guilt creeping up on me, waiting to give me the mother of all metaphorical hangovers. And that’s when it hits me.
Laura Smiles.
In all my thoughts and all my inner turmoil, not once when Halle was on stage did I think about my wife.
I’ve accused Nate of being a cheater
and yet here I sit, with my eyes locked on someone who is not my wife.
“I have to go,” I mumble while pushing up from the table and catching the top with my thighs in my rush to stand. Our drinks wobble and tumble, spilling their contents along the surface before rolling off the edge to smash on the floor.
“I’m sorry, Nate. I can’t… I just need to…”
Without waiting for him to protest or try to stop me, I stride away from the mess I’ve made, pushing my way through the crowds of club goers until I reach the street outside.
By chance, a taxi waits at the kerb, and I quickly slip inside and rush out the address of the villa to the driver. As we pull away from the centre of San Antonio, my phone buzzes in my pocket and I slide it out to see Nate’s name flash across the screen. Uncaring about his worry, I run my thumb up the edge of my phone and hold down the power button until it prompts me to slide my finger across the screen to switch it off. Nate’s name fades as the phone dies.
I should feel guilt, and I do, but not towards Nate.
The guilt bubbling up my throat and burning my insides is only towards her. My wife. The woman I forgot all about for the last few hours.
Close on the heels of that guilt is anger towards the woman who transfixed me with her voice. It’s irrational and I know it’s not her fault but I need to blame someone as much as I blame myself, and she’s not here to defend herself.
I hope I never lay eyes on her again.
I hope I never again hear her voice.
Don’t dream of what ifs and memories,
You threw me and those away.
Don’t console yourself with miseries,
You’re not worthy of the pain.
I aggressively drag my palms down my face, wanting to scrub away everything about the last few hours.
I need to get home to my kids. I should never have gone out tonight. My children need me. Nate does not. He has other people he can talk to about his problems. My kids only have me.
I lie to myself with these thoughts the entire journey home, convincing myself of their truth. When I walk through the door to the villa, all the lights are off, and the house is still as everyone inside sleeps. My lies have never been more evident than they are right now because my kids don’t only have me. They have my whole family. Nevertheless, the urge to see them bears down on me, and even though I know I shouldn’t check on them in this state in case I wake them, I creep through the house to sate this desperate need that scratches at my skin. I have to make sure my kids are okay.