by Carian Cole
"It's my normal color now."
He nods and grins. "I see. I wanted to have a little chat."
"Okay, chat then."
"I want you to finally tell me what happened."
"What happened to what?"
He tilts his head at me. "Your wife."
Sighing, I kick my feet up on top of my suitcase in front of me. "I still don't want to talk about her, Ash. Really."
"I didn't ask if you wanted to."
"It's hard to explain." How can I explain what I don’t even understand myself?
"I think I have the capacity to understand quite a bit. So try me."
"Well, for one thing, this shit with my ear had me fucked up. I was moody with her all the time, and to be honest, I treated her like shit. I was tired all the time. Having sex was hit or miss—sometimes great, sometimes I'd get dizzy and have to run to the bathroom to barf or cling to the side of the bed. It was embarrassing.”
He nods, listening intently. "Okay, I can understand that's hard for you. What else?"
"And then I read her journal, the day before we were supposed to make our decision."
"Tal…not a good move, little bro."
"I know, trust me. She wrote that she never would have married me, and I broke her heart like a million times, and how much I've changed since the MD started. Then she mentioned a guy—no name, just an initial—and being confused about him. I'm pretty sure it was her ex who was trying to get her back. And that same day, I saw her with another guy. She has no idea, but it set me off. I flew into a rage over the whole thing. I couldn’t get my head out of that bad place. I don't think it would have worked, man. I'm not what she wanted, that's all."
“That doesn’t sound like anything she would say or do, Tal.”
“I know. That’s why it fucked me up so bad.”
He stares out the window for a few minutes before he answers. "Ember's journal has been in her nightstand for the past five years. She wrote it in every day. She has several, actually, because she started writing when she was sixteen and I started making them for her every year for her birthday—with a real key to lock and unlock them. She loved them."
"Yeah, I remember that. It was cool. All that parchment paper."
"Yup. I've never once touched those journals, and believe me, Tal, I want to. You have no idea how fucking bad I want to. But I can't. You want to know why? Because there are things in there she probably wouldn't ever want me to read. Thoughts I wouldn't understand. Thoughts she may have felt when she wrote them but didn't feel later. If I read that last one, I'm going to have a lot of questions, and she's not here to give me the answers. I can't do that to myself. If she'd wanted me to know anything that's in there, she would have told me. So I have to leave it alone and hope someday she'll be able to tell me what happened. It's not fair for me to just assume what she was going through or steal her private thoughts away from her."
"Ash, I'm sorry. That's different, though…"
He shakes his head. "No, it's not. I think you made a decision based on a lot of fucked-up assumptions, and you acted out of anger, and you don’t ever act that way. This isn’t like you. I’m worried about you."
I shrug. I’m worried about me, too. "I don't know. I know what I fucking read, and what I saw, and I saw her with another guy who she met behind my back. I just couldn’t get past it."
"Wouldn't it have been easier to just ask her?"
"I guess I just didn't want to hear any lies, or hear that she wanted to leave me. I was so pissed at everything and so aggravated and confused that I just wanted to end it all and be alone."
“Maybe you should try to talk to her? Hear what she has to say? Work it out?"
I shake my head. “I think it’s beyond that now. I did way too much damage. I turned into her worst nightmare.” My chest starts to hurt again, like it always does when I think about her.
"Okay. Just a thought," he pats my back. "I think you’re making a big mistake. She really loves you. I have no doubts."
"It’s already done. I dug the hole way too deep."
He shakes his head at me again. "It’s never too late. And you better stay away from the edge of the stage. I'll put a leash on you if I see you meandering around on the edge, okay?”
"Whatever, man. I'm not falling again. I've got it under control."
* * *
The days of the tour drag. I spend most of the day either sleeping on the bus or puking from feeling dizzy. I have constant headaches and I don't want to eat anything. Even though no one has said anything, my playing is off. Ash has moved me all over the stage trying to help me find a spot that doesn't fuck me up, but nothing makes it better. The guys are all being cool, but I can tell they're not exactly thrilled with my not being on point like I used to be. The groupies love it, of course. Word of my separation has already been leaked, and now they all seem to think they have the golden pussy that will magically make me feel better, if I would just give them a chance. And I don't. I have zero desire for any of these chicks, and I touch none of them.
On the last night of the tour, I fall off the steps of the bus and land headfirst in a puddle, spraining my ankle and giving myself another concussion. The last show of the tour is canceled, thousands of fans are pissed, a picture of me lying in muddy water goes viral all over the internet, and it's pretty clear my rock-star days are done.
Asher and Storm stay behind until I'm released from the hospital two days later, and they rent a van to drive us back home, taking turns driving, arguing, and singing TV sitcom songs, while I sit in the back and fight nausea for 500 miles, wondering what the hell I did to deserve landing in this tenth circle of hell.
Chapter 43
Asia
Keeping my mind busy is the only thing I can do to prevent myself from falling into a bad depression again. For weeks my moods went from crying and missing Talon like crazy to wanting to destroy everything in sight as my anger with him festered. To distract myself I cleaned every inch of my new town house, even though it didn't need it. Then I sewed curtains and blinds to decorate it.
I plunged myself into all the clothes and body and bath orders that still keep coming in. I have to admit, I'm surprised my little business didn't tank with my marriage, but it seems like even more people are ordering since our breakup became known. I'm making stage clothes for three other bands now, and I have a little kiosk at the mall twice a week. Some days, I sell the bath supplies, and on other days, I sell the custom teacup-sized pet clothes I design and hand-sew.
I guess, all things considered, my life could be a lot worse, like it seems Talon's is. When Kat sent me a text yesterday saying she heard he had another accident, I ignored it at first. I didn't want to know. Knowing about him only makes me sad, and I’ve been trying like crazy not to think about him or let myself get more depressed. But curiosity gets the best of me, and I go online to read about what happened. Within seconds, I'm looking at a picture of him lying on the ground, his face in a puddle, in the pouring rain.
ROCKER TALON VALENTINE GETS WASTED AND FACE-PLANTS INTO PUDDLE!
REHAB, ANYONE?
Ugh, that headline. Who writes this shit?
My heart breaks as I look at the picture, and I gently run my finger over the screen, over him. My beautiful man, my Viking, lying on the ground. Being made fun of. Still hiding his disease.
I slam the lid of my laptop down, tears brimming in my eyes. I wish I could go to him and comfort him, but he has made it ultraclear he wants nothing to do with me—for reasons I still don't know. He does listen to Lukas, though, and I decide right then and there I'm going to take advantage of that and take Lukas up on his offer for me to call him if I ever need anything. Right now I do need something—I need him to help Talon get his symptoms under control, and I have a pile of collected research I think can help him. I have no doubt I can get Lukas on board with helping him, and Talon doesn't ever have to know it came from me. All that matters is that Talon gets better and gets off this path of de
struction he's hell-bent on going down.
After all, I'm still his wife. He hasn't signed his divorce papers yet and neither have I, so I am still committed to my vows of taking care of him and loving him no matter what—whether the fool wants it or not.
Chapter 44
Talon
The other side of the bed dips. I open my eyes and blink at the wall, afraid to turn to see who’s there. Someone's in my bed. So either a crazy fan broke in, or a burglar, or maybe Asia came back.
Bracing myself, I slowly roll over.
"Lukas? The fuck are you doing in my bed?"
"I heard about your puddle tumble. I came to see if you want to take me up on my offer to start our own band."
I rub my hand across my face and stare up at the ceiling, which is slowly spinning clockwise.
"Yeah, I think it might be coming to that."
He leans over me and stares down into my face.
"What the hell are you doing?" I ask him.
"Tell me what you see."
"I see you. You're in my face."
"No, before that. Tell me what you see and feel. I'm serious."
"It's like the room is spinning. Sometimes it's slow, sometimes it's so fast that I swear it's really moving and I can't find the floor. Then I feel dizzy. On top of that, I have this constant ringing and a swooshing sound, like an engine, in my ear. It feels like I have to yawn and pop it, like when you go up a big hill. It fuckin' sucks, man."
"I can't let you do this band thing with me until you get that under control. It's been months, and the pills you're taking aren't helping. Instead, they're turning you into an asshole, and your drive and creativity are gone."
"Thanks for pointing that all out."
"You're welcome." He jumps off the bed. "Get up, take a shower, and meet me downstairs."
"Why?"
"I have something for you. Just do it."
I sit up and blow my hair out of my face. "Fine. Wait for me down there. Make some coffee."
A half hour later, I go downstairs to the living room to see Lukas sitting with a woman I don’t recognize. She appears to be in her forties, with shoulder-length dark brown hair, wearing a pantsuit. She's pretty but not my type.
"You brought me a woman?" I say to Lukas. "Thanks, but I'm not interested, baby. The Tilt-A-Whirl is out of service."
The woman looks over at Lukas and smiles. "You were right; he's going to be difficult."
"I'm sorry, who are you?" I ask. "And why don't I smell coffee?"
"You need to stop drinking coffee," she says matter-of-factly.
"Really? Are you the coffee police?"
"Tal, she's a doctor. No more joking. Dr. Gilmore, this is my cousin, Talon. Tal, this is Dr. Gilmore. She specializes in allopathic remedies, and she's had a lot of success with people with your condition." Every time someone says that word, I want to punch them.
She holds her hand out to me. "It's nice to meet you, Mr. Valentine. I'm actually a fan of your music. I was very surprised to hear from your cousin about your illness."
"Nice to meet you, too. So you do house calls?"
"Not normally, but Lukas told me you might be a little bit difficult about coming to my office, so we decided I would come to you. I don't mean to ambush you, and if you're uncomfortable with my being here, then I will leave. I do think I can help you, though."
I lean against the wall and cross my arms. "Do I have to get another head X-ray?"
"No, you do not. The remedies we will likely use are noninvasive. I do recommend acupuncture, though."
"So that's like a tattoo without the picture?"
Lukas starts to laugh. "That is the most epic description of acupuncture ever."
"I'm going to have to agree," Dr. Gilmore says. "If we could sit down together, I'll need a few hours of your time."
I shrug, thinking I have nothing to lose here except for a few hours I would have spent in bed. I've wasted time on much stupider things. "Okay, have at me."
Dr. Gilmore wasn't lying when she said she would need a few hours. Three hours later and she's finally done, packing up her notes and tote bag.
"I'm going to have a few items delivered here to your home. I need you to call me when they arrive so I can give you detailed instructions. You have to remember that you must follow the diet, exercise, and remedy protocol to see results. Most of this is in your hands."
I nod and open the front door for her. "Understood. Thanks for coming. It's much appreciated, and I'm willing to give it a try. I'm a little sick of falling on my head and not being able to think straight."
When she's gone, I turn to Lukas before he leaves. "You could have warned me, dude."
"You would have said no. I really think she can help you, without using all those crazy pills. I’m convinced that’s what’s making you worse."
I push my hair out of my face and absently finger the wedding rings around my neck. "I don’t fucking know. I guess we’ll find out. I'm all for it if she can help me."
"Then let's see what happens. And if it works, let's have a serious talk about our band and what you want to do."
* * *
Over the next few days, I receive boxes in the mail of supplements Dr. Gilmore ordered for me. She's also put me on a strict diet and has slowly weaned me off the prescription pills I was taking. Supposedly, some of these natural supplements will do the same thing, like reduce vertigo and nausea, only without the side effects. Twice a week she comes to give me acupuncture, which is actually pretty relaxing, and talked me into seeing a hypnotherapist. I've got to be honest, giving someone permission to suggest things into my brain was hard for me to do, but she finally convinced me to do it.
For the first month, I feel like pure shit while my body detoxes the meds and adjusts to the new diet and remedies she's got me on. But a little into the sixth week, I wake up feeling almost normal again. My mind feels clear. The swoosh in my ear and the pressure are greatly reduced, as are the vertigo and nausea. I start to work out every day again, and I write some new songs.
Two months into my new treatment plan, I feel ninety percent better. I still have some bad days but nothing like the hell I was experiencing before
"I feel fuckin' great," I tell Lukas. "Seriously, my brain is clear, I don't feel all fucking murderous, the symptoms are cut way back."
"That's awesome."
I puff on my new all-natural e-cig, because I still can't break the habit of sticking something in my mouth. "I wanted to thank you. If you hadn't found her, I'd still be a mess."
He hesitates before answering. "I gotta tell you the truth, Tal. It wasn't me. Asia found her and went over your case with her, had all your records sent over. She called me up and told me what she was doing, and I agreed to set up the meeting. It was all her, though."
I fall onto the couch, completely surprised. "She did this for me?"
"Yup. She didn't want you to know, but I kinda thought you should. She still cares about you."
My chest clenches and I do my best to ignore it. "That was really nice of her." I blow out a breath. "Maybe you could tell her that it's working."
"Or you could pull your head out of your ass and tell her yourself."
"I don't think I'm ready for that. And I don’t think she’d talk to me anyway."
I switch the conversation away from Asia. "I think I'm ready to leave A & E, though. If you still want to try what we talked about."
"Hell yeah, I do. I'm psyched for it. Come down tomorrow around noon and let's sit down and make a plan."
I haven't felt positive about anything in a long time, but I feel good about this. I think it's time for me to chase my own dreams and stop living the dreams my family picked for me. Last I talked to Asher, he pretty much knew my time in the band was over. And even though now I feel better, I know I can't deal with the crazy loud concerts and all the time required traveling on buses and planes. It's just not going to work for me anymore.
I send a text to Asher.
Me: Can I come by next week to talk?
Asher: Anytime. I have something for you, but I think you should have it now.
Me: Okay, what is it? Should I come over now?
Asher: No. Sending you a pic
I wait as the picture he sent starts to load on my screen. At first, I'm not sure what I'm looking at, but then my blood chills when it all becomes visible. And painfully clear.
This process has taught me so much about myself. I've learned so much about what I want, what I need, and what makes me happy. Given the choice, I never would have married him. He's broken my heart a thousand times. I hate what's happened to him and how it's changed him. Things were so good for a while, and then it changed.
And of all times for D to come back into my life. I've ignored his texts for weeks, but he just won't let up. I can't tell Talon. He will never understand. I don't even understand. I feel like I can't move forward and I can't go back until I get the answers I need. I'm stuck.
Although the past six months have been hard, I don't regret one moment of it. I love Talon more than I ever thought possible. Given the choice, I would have passed right by him and never would have known what an amazing person he is, how passionate he is, how funny he can be, or what real love feels like. I would have missed out on my best friend—and the best husband for me.
Somehow, this experiment worked. You found me my soul mate. Yes, it's been hard. I've cried a lot of tears. I've thrown a lot of tantrums. But he is so worth it. I'm sure I was no walk in the park for him either, and I hope he has grown to love me half as much as I love him. I cannot picture my life without him. My focus now is making him happy and finding ways to help him cope with his illness so he can enjoy his life and his career as much as he possibly can. I know we can get through this together and come out stronger. He's my everything, and I'll be here for him, every step of the way, no matter what. Thank you so much for bringing us together. I'm happy to say, I love my husband.