The Days Without You: A Story of Love, Loss, and Grief

by Skylar Wilson

Max continued, “Great party, right? Black Diamond will find any reason to throw one.” He beamed at Lacey and kissed both her cheeks. “You look absolutely radiant—positively glowing. How far along now?”

  “Thirty-three weeks.” She placed a hand on her bulging belly.

  “Have you seen Shawn or Ollie yet?” asked Adam, glancing around again.

  “No, not yet, but I’m sure they’ll be here soon enough.” Max sipped his drink. “Mm, I’ve got someone who wants to meet you. Come with me.” He clapped a hand on Adam’s shoulder and steered him into the midst of the crowd.

  “Who am I meeting?” He glanced behind to see if Benny had followed.

  “Don’t worry; I’ll introduce Benny shortly, as well as Shawn and Ollie when they get here.”

  He frowned as he was guided along, prodded in the back by Max until he stood in front of a man not dressed in a suit like most of the crowd, but a pair of dark jeans and casual jacket. The man had shaggy hair parted to the side and crinkles around his eyes. This was—

  “Adam, this is Kevin Appleton of The Relief. Kevin, this is Adam Bell.” Max waved a hand with a flourish.

  Adam’s jaw dropped. Kevin leaned forward to shake his hand, smiling calmly. Despite having seen countless pictures of all the members of The Relief, online and on their album covers, Adam thought that Kevin seemed…so normal.

  “It’s good to meet you,” Kevin said.

  Adam stared, mouth still gaping. “I—I am…wow, I’m a huge fan,” he choked out.

  Kevin laughed. “Thanks. We’re excited to have you guys with us, some fresh talent. The band that dropped the tour, they were lacking something, I think. Black Diamond had tacked them on. Won’t mention any names, though.” He grinned.

  “We’re so excited, you have no idea. Seriously, you guys are the reason I taught myself guitar,” said Adam, jittery and nervous. He shoved his hands into his pockets to keep them from fluttering.

  Max clapped his shoulder. “I think I see your other two partners in crime.”

  Adam opened his mouth, about to blurt out that he’d seen them when they played in Charleston earlier in the year, but closed it when he remembered meeting Kylie there. He scrambled to think of something else to say. “So…er, are all the tour dates set?”

  He nodded. “Most of them, yeah. We’ll start on the East Coast and make our way west, for the most part. There are some venues out in Cali and Washington, I think, that the crew still has to finalize. We’ll set off here in New York.”

  His head bobbed eagerly, and Adam twirled his bracelet around his wrist. Wish you could see me now, Elliott.

  The morning after the wedding, with a cup of coffee in hand and still in her pajamas, Kylie stood outside the house and stared up at it. Old, blue siding that hadn’t been repainted in years. Deep red shutters. Red door. Black trim, faded over the years to gray. The shrubs under the front windows had survived, miraculously, with minor care; the pansies from last winter, however, had withered and died.

  Could she do it? Could she sell her childhood home? She couldn’t stay here forever; she knew that now. It was time to move on and moving on wouldn’t be easy. But that tingling sense of determination washed over her again. If she didn’t try…she’d never forgive herself.

  But a voice of reason, the sensible part of her mind, chided. How could she just up and move without having all the pieces in place? A job or a home? What if it never worked out with Adam? Was this an irrational move? No, maybe it was time to move away from Charleston. It was time to make a change in life.

  She exhaled slowly as the enormity of it all weighed heavily on her shoulders.

  I can do this.

  I missed you, you know.

  “Tell me again when the first tour date is,” said Shawn, clunking one foot onto the coffee table and draping an arm along the sofa.

  “We leave Monday, and the first official show is next Thursday.” Adam leaned forward, elbows digging into his thighs, and flipped through the television channels.

  “Do we get our own bus and stuff?” Ollie asked, leaning back into the recliner in the corner.

  “That’s what you’re worried about?” Shawn shook his head.

  “Valid question,” Benny interjected. “We could be stuck in a shitty little camper.”

  Adam mumbled in agreement, uninterested in their discussion as it continued. He glanced outside; the snow had been falling all morning in fat, white flurries.

  His phone buzzed in his pocket, and he jumped slightly before pulling it out. Kylie’s name and picture showed on the screen, as he’d never bothered to delete her number. It had been months since the last call he’d blatantly ignored, but something urged him to answer this time. Standing, he crossed the hallway to the bedroom and quietly latched the door behind him.

  “Kylie?”

  “Um, hi. Yeah, it’s me.” She sounded breathless.

  He froze, waiting for some sort of explanation for call, but none came. “Why are you calling?” The words came out harsher than he’d meant.

  Her speech rushed, trembling as she answered, “I’m in New York.”

  But…that didn’t make sense. He stared blankly at the wall. “You mean…visiting?”

  Another pause, then a sharp inhale. “I’m living in New York. I moved here a few days ago.”

  “What…”

  “Will you meet me for coffee or lunch or something?” she asked.

  Swallowing, he attempted to gather his thoughts. “I don’t know.” Why now? Why did she have to do this now? He slumped onto the edge of the bed. Maybe Kylie was joking. That had to be it. Some kind of joke.

  “Just one cup of coffee. That’s all I’m asking.”

  Adam sighed, resigning. “All right. Are you free this afternoon?”

  Stopping in her tracks, Kylie held up her small map. Adam had given her the address and some directions to a coffee shop, but she was sure she was lost. She looked up; the sight was dizzying, seeing how tall the buildings stood. Someone crashed into her from behind, and she lurched forward, dropping her phone and map into a pile of dirty, slushy snow.

  “Don’t stop in the middle of the sidewalk, lady,” the man muttered as he buzzed by her.

  She mumbled an apology, scrambling to gather her things and wiping her phone on her jeans. Stepping out of the flow of people, she stopped to study the map, comparing it to the map on her phone. Just one more block. Slipping the map and her phone into her pockets, she pulled her scarf tighter under her jacket—Adam’s jacket that she had kept—and a shiver ran down her spine.

  The countless shops with holiday displays, some decorated with lights or tinsel trees, passed by. Would she spend Christmas alone this year? It was a possibility she’d have to face. Still, she had to try.

  Finally, she spotted the gold lettering on the glass window of the café. The warmth of the shop and the aroma of freshly ground beans were like a welcoming hug as she stepped in. She tugged off her hat while peering around for any sign of Adam, without luck, before joining the end of the line. Her heart fluttered as she inched forward with each Next! and her mind raced through all the things she wanted to say. I missed you. I’m sorry I was an ass. I was wrong. Her imagination ran wild over the conversation, thinking of everything from yelling to an utterly happy reunion.

  Lord, have mercy. Don’t let me clam up when he gets here.

  “Next!”

  Shaking off her reverie, she stepped up to the counter. “Um, hi, can I get a plain coffee, room for cream?” The words tumbled out, and she felt hot under all her layers of clothing. A bead of sweat formed at her temple.

  The barista paused, narrowing his eyes at her. “You all right? Not gonna pass out, are ya?” He took her money from the counter.

  “I’m fine.” Her cheeks flushed. Was she that transparent?

  The young man set the mug of coffee on the counter, and she offered what she hoped was a calm, reassuring smile before taking it.

  After mixing her coffee with cream and sug
ar, she found a free table in the middle of the dining area, beneath a low hanging light. It was easily visible from the door and gave her a clear view of the entrance. Every few seconds, she craned to look about for any sign of Adam. Five minutes—which felt like an eternity—passed before he entered and stepped up to the counter. Okay, stay cool. Stay calm. Her hands fidgeted with her shirt, trying to smooth the fabric while she waited.

  Adam approached the table, but Kylie kept her eyes down on her coffee and held her breath before looking up.

  “Hey,” she said. The word came out a bit breathlessly, and her cheeks already warmed.

  He set his own mug down. “Hi,” he greeted. His tone sounded neutral, neither happy nor irritated.

  Kylie watched as his glance took in the fact that she still had his jacket; his lips parted ever so slightly, and his eyes widened in the smallest way. Glancing away, he untangled himself from his scarf and slung his own jacket over the back of the chair before sitting down.

  Silence passed between them for several tense moments. Kylie couldn’t bring herself to look directly at him, instead attempting to peek at him from the corner of her eye.

  “So…how are you doing?” he asked, finally.

  “Better than I thought I’d be, surprisingly, for just giving up my childhood home and leaving Charleston.” She laughed, nervous and stiff. Adam nodded. She paused again. “How about you?”

  “Good. Really good, actually.” His posture appeared rigid, his expression stony and cold.

  Kylie shifted uneasily in her seat, still studying him discreetly. He looked just as she remembered: dark blond hair sticking up in spots, dark brown eyes, slightly rounded jaw. He was dressed, however, a little cleaner now—no worn band t-shirt like he used to wear. Instead, he had donned a spotless black shirt. Then again, why had she expected him to look differently now? Silly.

  She cleared her throat and finally thought of something to say.

  “I heard on the radio that you’re going to tour with The Relief. That’s great.”

  “Yeah.” He sipped his latte. “We’re excited.”

  “Will there be a show here in the city?” She watched him intently now, her eyes never leaving his face.

  “Yeah, on Friday.” His fingers drummed the table while Kylie drank. “How’s Cat doing?”

  “Oh…we’re not talking at the moment.” Her smile came strained and painful.

  “Ah. Sorry to hear.”

  Kylie shrugged, looking down into her drink again, brows pressing together, and she couldn’t help but take a deep breath and spill. “That night before the Gidget, when Cat called you from my phone, that’s the last time she’s talked to me.” Another strained smile. “It’s okay, though. My brother’s wife has been a good friend. She’s cool.”

  He nodded slowly. “How did the Gidget go?”

  Her head dropped and she laughed a little mirthlessly. “I didn’t place at all. My board came out from under me and hit me in the head. Samantha got disqualified, though, for trying to snake me, but I ended up with a concussion.”

  “Ouch.” He grimaced.

  “And right before Thanksgiving, I gave a big middle finger to the Charm. No two-week notice or anything.” She grinned.

  Both brows arched over his eyes. “Just a ‘Screw you, I’m out’ kinda deal? What happened?”

  Kylie nodded happily, taking another long sip. “I couldn’t put up with Bruce anymore, and HR wasn’t doing anything about it, and I’d had enough. Got in a good slap before I left, though.”

  Adam chuckled quietly. “That’s my girl.”

  She froze then, unsure if her sudden panic showed outwardly. Adam took a drink of his latte, while her mind screamed at her to finally say all the things she’d planned to, but her mouth had gone dry. She swallowed hard. No, she had to do it. To say something. This was her chance.

  “I missed you, you know,” she blurted out. The words sounded more desperate than she’d imagined, and the seconds felt like hours while she waited for a reaction.

  His lips parted for a moment, then closed, and he shut his eyes. Kylie’s heart knotted. His voice sounded soft when he finally spoke.

  “Kylie.” His gaze landed on her, and she stiffened. “It’s not that simple. We’re leaving for our tour next Monday and…it’s just not that easy.”

  Her cheeks grew warm. “This is what you wanted, isn’t it? For me to move with you?” she asked, her tone fierce. “Well, here I am.”

  “It is, but…I don’t know.”

  “Then, tell me what I need to do.” A lump was already beginning to form in the back of her throat. I’m screwing this all up, I know it.

  Adam shook his head. “I don’t know.” He drained his mug and rose from the table. “I should get going. The guys are at my place right now—hopefully they haven’t destroyed the place yet.” His joking, airy tone sounded false.

  “Oh.” Her eyes remained on her hands as Adam slipped his jacket on. “Call me sometime, then. I’m in a place over in Queens.”

  “Sure.” Adam wrapped his scarf around his neck. “Well…see you.”

  While Adam stepped out into the snowfall, Kylie sat in her seat, his words wringing in her ears. That’s my girl.

  She wasn’t about to give up so easily.

  The snow fell more thickly than Kylie had ever seen, piling up on the sidewalks and windowsills. She watched it through the window of her studio apartment, her arms wrapped around her knees, bedspread draped over her shoulders. A lumpy mattress on the floor served as a bed, and an old tube television sat in front of it. A mismatched dinette set sat in front of the tiny, three-cupboard kitchenette. The room was nearly bare, the only other things being what few personal effects she’d brought with her on the train.

  To say she didn’t miss Charleston would be a lie. She missed the house; she missed Maggie. She especially missed Cat. But here she sat, alone in a strange city. It had taken losing everything she once knew to find the courage to fight for happiness—she wouldn’t be passive in life anymore. She’d wear her heart on her sleeve if that’s what it took.

  What would Cat say if she knew what Kylie had done? If she knew Kylie had finally realized the mistakes she’d made all along? Her friend lingered in her mind. Every time she called Cat, she merely left short messages, usually along the lines of Hey, miss you. Call me back. This time, she’d spill.

  As expected, the line continued to ring several times before voicemail answered. Hi, this is Cat. Leave a message and I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. With a sharp breath, Kylie steeled herself.

  “Hey, it’s Kylie. Just wanted to let you know that I left Charleston. I’m in New York.” Her fingers picked at a loose thread in the blanket. “You’d be so proud of me; I’m even thinking of going to a concert—by myself. Anyway, I hope you can forgive me one day. Well…call me back. Love you.”

  With a sigh, she set the phone down on the floor beside her, plugged in the charger cord, and lay her head on the pillow. That’s what she’d do, she thought. Go to the concert with backstage tickets. It would be her last chance to talk to Adam before he told her to leave him alone for good.

  Curled up under the blanket, she watched the snowfall for a while, sleep finally about to overtake her.

  The phone chimed its happy melody, and Cat’s face flashed on the screen. Kylie scrambled to her knees, yanked the charger cord out, and answered. “Cat!”

  “You’re in New York? I don’t believe you,” she scoffed, her tone teasing yet guarded.

  “Seriously. It’s snowing here.”

  “So.” A pause. Cat cleared her throat. “I’m sorry for all the stuff that I said back in June. I just…I felt like I didn’t know how to help you anymore.”

  “I’m sorry, too, for not listening sooner.”

  “Friends?”

  “I’ve already forgiven you. I’ve been waiting for you to call me back,” said Kylie.

  “So, I’m already planning on coming up this weekend—Ollie asked me to, for
their show. I’ll get him to leave another pass at the box office for us, if you want to go.”

  A vague image of herself and Cat going backstage with VIP passes grew in her mind’s eye.

  “Sounds great. Are you staying with him or do you want to stay with me?”

  Cat snorted. “I’d rather stay with you, since he’ll be busy getting ready for the show anyway.” Kylie pictured her rolling her eyes. “I’ve got to hit the hay, but I’ll text you tomorrow to figure out the details, okay?”

  I have to know for sure.

  Thursday afternoon, Kylie waited by baggage claim at LaGuardia with a cardboard sign that read GOMEZ in scrawled handwriting, holding back her giggles when a river of passengers flooded through, all looking haggard from their flight. Cat emerged from behind taller passengers, her dark hair piled high on her head, rolling her carry-on behind her. Her eyes were wide, and she stood on her toes to see eye-level with everyone else. Their eyes met, and with a wide grin she jogged down the aisle.

  “Kylie!” she cried, dropping her bag to the floor to fling her arms around her neck. Her embrace tightened, nearly squeezing the breath out of Kylie’s chest. “You look like an idiot with that sign.”

  “Good, I knew it’d embarrass you,” Kylie said, hugging her even more tightly in return. Her cheeks already ached from smiling.

  Cat rolled her eyes, still grinning while Kylie picked up her bag.

  After she claimed her luggage (after first claiming the wrong bag and confusing another passenger), they hailed a taxi and, while the driver loaded it into the trunk for them, the pair slid into the backseat.

  “How long have you been living here?” asked Cat, clamping onto the seat edge when the taxi zipped into traffic.

  “Not even a week.”

  She mouthed a wow then nodded. “What about Mama’s house?”

  “Selling it. Maggie’s helping out—being an intermediary of sorts since I’m here—and I’ll have to fly back down once it sells to sign the paperwork. But I knew I couldn’t stay there forever. How’s your family doing?”