My mind races as I weave in and out of the afternoon traffic. I can’t believe the baby is coming already. God, it feels like yesterday that she told me she was pregnant and now here she is, getting ready to give birth. Granted her pregnancy has been cut a couple months short, but it still feels too soon.
Excitement and nerves meld together. Knowing I need to tell someone, I snag my phone, pausing mid motion when I realize the one person I really want to call I can’t.
It’s been seven weeks since the last time I spoke to Hudson yet he’s still the first person I want to talk to whenever anything happens. If I have a bad day at work, I want to hear his voice to make it better. Nana says something totally inappropriate at Sunday brunch and all I want to do is tell him about it, knowing what a kick he would get out of it. My best friend goes into labor and I feel like I’m having a mini panic attack, he’s who I want to call to talk me down.
I wish I could say that things have gotten easier. And maybe they have, but not as rapidly as I had hoped. I still miss him every single day. He’s still the last person I think of when I go to bed at night and the first person that crosses my mind when I open my eyes in the morning.
I wonder how he’s doing, what he’s doing, if he misses me the way I miss him. I imagine he’s in the studio by now. His tour wrapped about a month ago and even though I’ve been tempted to do a little digging on the internet, I’ve resisted the urge. Knowing what little progress I have made would surely die a painful death the minute I see a picture of him or read an article about him.
Colton texted me a couple of weeks ago to tell me Brittany was clean and back home after her stint in rehab. He thought I’d want to know given how involved I was with everything that went down to lead to her going to rehab in the first place. While I appreciated the update, a part of me feels like him reaching out was an intentional play. Maybe he thought I’d call Hudson once I heard the news. Or maybe he genuinely thought I’d want to know. Who knows? Either way I was happy to hear she’s doing so well. I know how relieved her parents and Hudson must be.
I shake off the thoughts of Hudson as I pull into the hospital and park in the first spot I can find behind the building. Shoving my cell in my purse, I throw the strap over my shoulder and quickly exit the car.
Right as I enter the main entrance of the hospital, a pair of familiar eyes brings me to a screeching halt.
“Gage.” The word comes out on a rushed breath, my heart not sure if it belongs in my stomach or my chest as I look from him to the pretty red head on his arm.
“Hey, Lennon.” He stops directly in front of me, clearly just as surprised to see me as I am to see him.
“What are you doing here?” we ask in unison, both of us smiling the instant it happens.
“My mom’s here. We stopped in to visit,” Gage answers, his gaze shifting to the girl beside him. “This is Hannah, my girlfriend.” He smiles at her before looking back to me.
“Nice to meet you, Hannah. I’m Lennon.” I wave awkwardly, wishing I could take it back. “Is your mom okay?” I backtrack, shifting nervously from one foot to the other.
“Yeah, she had to have a heart stint put in. She’s doing fine though. They’re keeping her overnight for observation. What about you?”
“Emma. She’s having a baby.”
“I heard she was expecting.” He rocks back slightly on his heels.
I don’t know why, but when I pictured running into Gage, knowing it would eventually happen, I didn’t expect it to be quite so weird between us. Then again, a lot has happened in the months that have passed since we were last together. Which oddly enough was in this very hospital.
He looks happy, relaxed. A hell of a lot more at ease than I feel. And while I’m glad he’s moved on, a small part of me secretly wishes he was as miserable as I am right now.
“Yeah, I should probably get upstairs,” I say, gesturing to nowhere in particular.
“Of course. Tell Emma I said congrats.”
“Will do.”
“It was good seeing you, Lennon.”
“Yeah, you too.” I force the best smile I can muster, give Hannah a small nod, and then quickly step past them, feeling like I can’t get away fast enough.
Two minutes later, I’m stepping into the maternity ward, my stomach balled tight with nerves. Partly from my run in with Gage but mostly because my best friend is getting ready to have a baby.
After a quick stop at the nurses’ station to find out what room Emma is in, I head to the end of the hall and turn right, locating room four ninety-eight instantly.
Not sure if I should just walk in, I lightly knock on the door and wait, noticing it sounds eerily quiet inside. I half expected to hear Emma screaming all the way in the lobby.
I step back when the door swings open and Robert appears, looking a little stressed but all in all pretty good considering.
“Is she here?” Emma questions from within the room. Robert quickly steps to the side letting me pass and within seconds I have eyes on Emma who like her husband, looks pretty good considering. And just like that my run in with Gage falls into the background as my sole focus becomes Emma.
“Hey.” I quickly cross to her bedside. “How are you feeling?” I ask, taking a seat on the edge of her bed before reaching for her hand.
“Like I’m about to shit a watermelon out of my front hole and I have no idea how it’s going to fit.” She half laughs, half cries.
I instantly burst out laughing, I can’t help it.
“Women do it every day, sweetie,” I remind her. “You got this.”
“That’s easy for you to say. You’re not the one with a drip in their spine and a tube shoved up your pee hole.”
“This is true.” I suppress another laugh. “Is there anything I can get for you? Anything you need?”
“Yeah. Ice cream.” She looks past me to give Robert an evil look.
“Hey, doctor’s orders. Not mine.” He holds his hands up in defense, his smile wide.
“Assholes won’t let me have anything but ice chips. Ice chips. What the hell are ice chips supposed to do?”
The doctor interrupts before Emma can continue her rant, coming in to check on her and the baby.
I stay with Emma over the next few hours but step out once they decide it’s time for her to start pushing. As much as I wanted to stay, I also didn’t want to impose on such an intimate moment for her family.
So, I wait not so patiently in the maternity waiting room with Emma and Robert’s parents, who’d arrived shortly after I did. Nearly an hour later, Robert came out and announced they had a healthy four and a half pound baby boy. They named him Robert Jeffery after both of their fathers.
Because Robby, which is what I’ve decided I’m calling my little nephew, was born an estimated seven weeks early, he will spend at least the next couple of weeks in the NICU, maybe more.
I wasn’t able to hold him but I did get to look at the pictures Robert took before they hauled him away. From what I can tell he has his mommy’s light brown skin and his father’s dark eyes. The most beautiful baby I think I’ve ever seen. Not that I’ve seen that many babies in my lifetime but I know a cute one when I see it.
Now, lying in bed, I find myself staring at the ceiling not able to shut off my brain enough to actually fall asleep. I think about Emma and Robert, about little baby Robby, about the beautiful adventure they are all about to go on together. And while I couldn’t be happier for my best friend, a part of me feels a little left behind.
Everyone is married and starting families, yet I feel completely stuck in place. I’m still living in my sister’s guest room and have yet to make any real decision about what I want to do with myself.
Jeff offered to rent me a unit he had available, but for whatever reason I couldn’t accept it. It’s like I’m afraid to commit to anything yet. Like I’m waiting for something but have no idea what it is.
You know what you’re waiting for, the little voice in the back of my
head reminds me. You’re waiting for him.
Refusing to entertain the thought, I roll over and curl into a ball, snuggling deeper into the covers. I can’t let myself go there. Not now. Not when I’m finally starting to feel somewhat okay again.
That’s not true. I’m not even close to okay. I’m just so busy trying to convince myself and everyone else that I am okay that I’m starting to believe the lie. But when I slow down, when I give myself time to think about Hudson and what we had, the ache deep in my chest is undeniable.
When he left he took a piece of me with him and I don’t think I’ll ever feel whole again. Truth is, I don’t know that I have it in me to try to pretend otherwise anymore.
Chapter Twenty-nine
HUDSON
“James, you’re on in two,” one of the stage crew announces through the open door of my makeshift dressing room.
I offer a nod without looking up, the familiar weight settling on my chest that I’ve gotten every time I’ve taken the stage over the past couple of months. I used to love the fucking stage. It was my home. The one place I wanted to stay forever. Now it’s like a burning room I can’t seem to find my way out of.
Pushing out of my chair, I slide my cap backward onto my head before slowly making my way out of the room and up the walkway to the back of the stage.
While the tour wrapped a few weeks ago, Jerry booked me to perform at four different festival shows between May and August. This is the second one I’ve done so far.
“You good?” Colton nods at me as I approach.
“Just ready to get this over with,” I grumble, stopping next to him right off the side of the stage.
“Try to have some fun, yeah?”
“I’m going to play Tequila Burn tonight,” I tell him, not missing the disapproval that crosses his face.
“Jerry specifically told you that you can’t have it as your next single.”
“Well then I guess I’ll have to force his hand.” I offer him a wide smile. “Because I say it will be my next single.”
The lights on the stage go dark moments before the band runs out, taking their places behind their instruments.
“Do you ever do anything they tell you?”
“Tried playing their game once. From now on, I do what I want to do. They can either get on board or let me go. I’m sure another label would be more than happy to pick me up.” I shrug like I couldn’t care less either way.
“Tequila Burn it is.” Colton nods in agreement. “Now go fucking slay it.”
The words have barely left his mouth before I’m running onto the stage, the roar of the crowd drowning out everything else.
Chapter Thirty
“Hey.” Starr comes waltzing into my room with her open laptop balanced in her hand.
“Thanks for knocking,” I tell her, tossing the book I was attempting to read onto the nightstand.
“My house.” She sticks out her tongue and drops down on the bed next to me, nudging me with her hip so I’ll scoot over and give her some room.
“What are you doing?” I ask, sitting completely upright with my legs outstretched in front of me.
“I need to show you something,” she says, clicking on her keyboard before sliding the computer onto my lap.
The second I see Hudson’s name at the top of the video, I push it back toward her. Having spent the last four days bouncing between work, Emma’s house, and the hospital, on top of getting crap for sleep the past few nights, I am in no mood for whatever game she’s playing.
“Stop.” She grabs the top of the screen, preventing me from moving the computer more than an inch. “I just need you to see something.”
“I don’t want to see it,” I tell her, refusing to look at the screen.
“Please, Lenny. You really do need to see this.” She clicks on a key and Hudson’s voice instantly fills the space.
The sound causes tears to sting my eyes and a thick knot to form in the back of my throat. But then I hear her voice and my stomach churns. Even after all is said and done, a part of me still blames Annabelle for how everything fell apart. I can’t help but think if she wasn’t part of the equation then maybe Hudson and I would still be together.
“I’m not watching this.” I look directly at my sister.
“Just wait a second,” she tells me impatiently, fast-forwarding through the video. “Okay there, she’s gone.”
Even though it’s the last thing I want to do, my eyes turn toward the screen, my chest exploding in an all-consuming ache that makes it damn near impossible to breathe the instant my eyes land on Hudson. It’s a video shot by someone in the audience. The camera pointed up at him in all his glory. God, I had almost forgotten how gorgeous he was. I knead my lip between my teeth, not sure what I’m waiting for but knowing it better happen soon before I have a complete and total meltdown.
“This was recorded three nights ago at a festival in Ohio,” Starr tells me. “Watch the whole thing,” she says, patting my leg before quickly climbing out of the bed.
The door latches moments later but I’m too glued to the screen to look up. I didn’t realize how much I missed him until this very moment. Or maybe I did but I was too stubborn to admit it to myself.
He looks out over the crowd, his shirt wet with sweat, face red, and my god if he’s not the most incredible thing I’ve ever seen.
My heart beats a little faster.
“I’m gonna get serious with you all for a moment if that’s okay?” He grins at the random hoots and whistles coming from the audience. “I wrote a song recently. It was brutal; the whole process ripped me apart. Because, a few weeks ago someone walked out of my life and left a huge hole in it. I’m sure some of you have been there.” The crowd gasps at his every word and so do I. “So I dealt with it the only way I knew how. I wrote a fucking song about it.” He chuckles and the crowd laughs with him.
I don’t even have to guess if he’s talking about me. I know he is and the fact that he’s standing up on stage pouring his heart out to his fans does something to my insides I can’t quite explain.
“You guys wanna hear it?” he asks and the audience erupts in response. “It’s the first song off my second album and this is the first time anyone is hearing it.” The crowd cheers even louder. “Well alright then. I’m going to strip it down for you since the band hasn’t done this one before.” He smiles and even though I can’t see his dimple, I know it’s there. I can see it as if he’s standing right in front of me.
He takes a seat on a stool in the middle of the stage and slides his guitar strap over his neck. “This song is called Tequila Burn and I hope you like it,” he adds after adjusting the microphone into its stand. Seconds later his fingers begin moving along the strings.
I’m completely paralyzed. I can’t move, can’t breathe. All I can do is watch Hudson in the middle of the stage. Just him and his guitar. One solitary light shining on him. Illuminating him in a way that almost makes him look other worldly.
He closes his eyes as he starts to sing and I swear it’s like he’s singing just for me.
“It’s easy to lose yourself in a tequila haze. To let the music carry you away. The feel of your hands warm on my chest. The way I felt by the press of your lips. But when the fog cleared and you were gone the urge to feel the burn was still too strong. I’m addicted to your taste, your touch, your smell, and this bottle of tequila reminds me too well.”
Tears pour down my face. The emotion – the pure rawness of his performance is enough to bring anyone to tears. Knowing that I did this. That I put that pain there. That I’m the reason he’s hurting rips the hole in my chest wide open and I swear everything I’ve been holding inside pours out of me.
I’m sobbing by the time the song ends, the sound of the audience fresh in my ears as I shove the laptop aside and head for the door. When I pull it open Starr is standing on the other side with a knowing look on her face.
“He’s at the beach house,” she’s says, dangling a set of
keys in front of me.
“How do you know that?” I ask, my voice hoarse.
“I saw the Chevelle there this afternoon.” She shoves the car keys into my hand. “Now do us all a favor and go get your man back.”
“Starr,” I start to object.
“Don’t.” She holds her hand up to silence me. “You saw the same thing I did on that video. A man does not write a song like that about a woman he’s not still insanely in love with. He’s hurting, Lenny. You’re hurting, no matter how much you try to pretend you’re not. Stop fighting this and accept that you made a mistake. You thought things would be easier without him and you were wrong.”
“What if he doesn’t want me back?” I voice my real concern, knowing everything she said is true a billion times over. I knew I made a mistake the instant he drove away and I’ve spent weeks trying to convince myself otherwise.
“Did you watch the video?” she asks me like the question couldn’t be stupider. “Now go.” She pulls me from the bedroom and shoves me down the hallway.
“I need to change,” I object, having thrown on black athletic shorts and a racer back tank when I got home from work. My hair is up in a messy knot looking a complete hot mess.
“You look fine.” She gives me a quick once over. “Now put these on.” She tosses a pair of flip flops at me.
“Okay. Okay,” I say, quickly slipping them on.
“And Lenny.” She stops me as I turn toward the front door. “Good luck.” She gives me an encouraging smile.
“Thank you.” I force a smile despite the fact that I feel like an entire family of butterflies has invaded my stomach and are flapping around wildly.
—-
It takes me less than fifteen minutes to reach the beach house. As Starr said, the Chevelle is parked in the driveway which means Hudson must be here. Pulling up next to his car, I park and quickly climb out. I don’t think – I simply act, knowing if I do I’ll surely talk myself out of this.
Knocking on the front door feels so completely out of place. It seems like only yesterday this was my home. In a way it will always feel that way no matter what happens tonight.
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