I stay in my car, staring at the front of her house, trying to talk myself out of knocking on the door. I shouldn’t get in the middle of this. In the middle of a widow and the ghost of her husband. But fuck if I don’t want to be there for her. She needs us and is too stubborn to ask for help. She’s hurting too much to reach out to any of us. Olivia even confided, telling us Bri has shut her out.
She is nothing like she used to be. Nothing like the person who held her ground while kicking the dust up with her boots. Spunk, sass, and badass all in one. Her smile used to light up any room. I can’t imagine losing someone you love that way, and I have no idea how I’d react. Fuck, maybe I’d take to the bottle. Is that what she does? Does she drink herself to sleep each night?
When the light in her house is finally turned off, I put my car in reverse and go home.
“Where have you been?” Jason, my roommate and bandmate, looks over at me as I walk into our house. I grab a beer from the fridge and hold it up in question. “Yeah, I’ll take one.”
I sit next to him on the couch and watch part of the football game he’s watching.
“You gonna answer my question?”
“I was out.” I shrug. He knows I’m bullshitting him, but stays quiet.
The guys and I have some down time from being on the road more than being home in the last two years. We have decided to stay put in Nashville for some time to work on our next album. Rebel Desire stormed through the music industry once we got our name out there, thanks to Tyler Hunt bringing us with him as his opening act two years ago. Since then, we have been on the go.
The time at home is welcomed. I’m tired. Touring was a blast at first, banging every chick I could, and showing off my name and affiliation to the band. Women love drummers, and I made sure to show them just how talented I am, on and off the stage. But you get to a point where it all starts to blur and lose its appeal.
I’m grateful music is still the same as it used to be for the guys and me. We are famous now, but we have stuck to our roots. Cash keeps us grounded, always has, and his attitude has spread to the rest of us throughout the years. We’ve grown from rowdy boys to mature men. Yet, in my thirty-three years, I have never experienced what Bri is going through.
I shake my head and stand. “I’m going to sleep,” I announce.
“You sure you’re good?” Jason squints his eyes as he looks at me.
“Yup,” I tell Jason. Shit, I’m a fucking mood killer right now. I shake off this feeling, telling myself there’s nothing more for me to do than what I’ve already done. Bri knows she can turn to us if she wants to.
I don’t know why I’m taking it so personal, that she won’t open up to any of us. I don’t want her to drown. If I can provide a lifesaver, I will.
Fuck it. Tomorrow I’ll go see her. Check in on her.
“What’s your deal?” Cash asks.
“He’s been moping since last night,” Jason pipes up.
I glare at Jason before looking at Cash. We’ve been at Cash’s house for hours working on our music. When he and Olivia bought their house after their wedding, they made sure to have an area for a studio so we can practice and work on our music. It comes in handy.
“I’m fine,” I tell both of them. “Are we done?”
“You in a hurry to get some pussy?” Ryder laughs.
They all laugh, but I grab my keys and leave the room, giving them the finger over my shoulder. One stop at the grocery store and I’m heading toward Bri’s house. No clue what I’m going to say, but I don’t want her to be alone, facing what she’s lost.
“Hey,” she says as she opens the door. Her eyebrows scrunch. “What are you doing here?”
“Just wanted to make sure you’re okay.” I tell her and hold the bag in my hand. “Beer?”
“I’m fine, Cole. Thank you, but no one needs to check in on me.”
“I smell your bullshit a mile away. When was the last time you ate a proper meal?” I look at her thinning figure.
“Don’t fucking come to my house and question me.” She still has her fire. I smile.
“Can I come in? Thought you could use some company.”
“I won’t be much of a hostess, but suit yourself.”
“That’s okay. I brought drinks and food.” The first thing that catches my eye is a picture of her and Josh on the console table at the entrance.
Bri doesn’t bother to hide her discarded shoes at the entrance. She just leads the way into the kitchen.
“How are you doing?” I figure I’ll ask right away and not pretend to skirt around why I’m here.
Bri shrugs and inspects her hands holding the counter. I pop open two beer bottles and slide one toward her. She murmurs her thanks, and I lean against the counter, sipping my drink.
“I can’t imagine what you’re going through, but you’ve got people to help you. You’ve got us. Olivia will do anything for you. Don’t shut her out.”
“Not shutting anyone out. I just need to be alone,” she states.
“It’s been a few months already, and you’ve had your loner period. Now, allow people to help you grieve.”
“Cole,” she warns.
“Whatever. You want pizza? I bought the ingredients to make one, if that’s okay.”
“I guess. I’m not really hungry.”
“You gotta eat.” I eye her again.
After a long period of silence, drinking beer and prepping the pizza, we finally sit at the kitchen counter to eat. I watch as Bri barely takes bites from her slice while I down my food. She is lost in her thoughts, the mouse running wild on the wheel, but I let her. If she breaks down, I’ll be here to hold her up.
“How’s the tour going?” Bri shakes her head, as if remembering that she has a guest in her house.
“We’re on a break. Making new stuff, you know. Still have things to do here with the label, but as least I sleep on my own bed.” It’s as if she doesn’t remember talking about this at Jen’s wedding.
“Cool.” She finishes off her beer and tosses the bottle in the trashcan. “Sorry. I know I’m not much fun these days.” She faces me, leaning her hands behind her on the edge of the sink. Her green eyes mist over slightly before her deep inhale puts her back together. The pieces land a little crooked, but she’s still so beautiful. I remove those thoughts, determined to be the friend she needs during this time. Olivia may give her time to herself, but I’m stubborn. Bri doesn’t need any more time with her thoughts. She needs someone to show her just how much life she still has to live.
“Don’t apologize. The tour was fun. This one was more tiring, though. We have been out on the road more than we’ve been home in the last two years. This was our first headlining tour, so the pressure was different. I’m happy we get to work on our music for a few months now.”
“I’m sure.” She nods, once again deep in thought.
“What’s going on with you? How are you really holding up?”
Bri shrugs before popping open another beer.
“It helps to talk about it.”
“Does it really? Will it bring him back to say his name? If I tell y’all that I’m going crazy without him here, what good will it do? Besides add pity to your already sympathetic gazes. You’re all careful around me, thinking I’ll crumble at any moment. You know what? I can’t disagree, because I am breaking. I’m barely holding on.”
“Bri…” I coo. “None of us can change what happened, but we can help you overcome it.”
She shakes her head furiously. “There is no overcoming this, Cole.”
I sigh. As much as I want to tell her that she’s wrong, I’m not sure I can. This is something I know nothing about, but I hope that getting her to talk about it will help on its own.
“You know what he was doing when he died?” Bri surprises me. I shake my head. “He was safe, you know. He was covered from the attack, but his best friend wasn’t with him. He had gotten hit in the leg and couldn’t run, so he was dragging himself. Josh ran ba
ck out to find him right when they were ambushed. A hero, they called him. I don’t know why, if they both died. He promised me he wouldn’t do anything to put himself in more danger than necessary.” Her shoulders slump in defeat as she wipes her cheek.
“What good was his promise if he didn’t keep it? I didn’t come first, if he went back out there.” Her voice is hoarse.
“You know that’s not true, Bri. He was serving his country. He was doing his duty as a soldier and citizen. Hell, he was braver than most people I have come across.” I sit, tense, and try my best to help her understand.
“He was supposed to return safely.” She hiccups.
“We can never guarantee that. Life isn’t in our control when it comes to death. I can promise you I’ll get home safe tonight, and I can die in a crash.”
“Don’t say that,” she pleads, still leaning against the sink.
“It’s an example. Some of life’s plans are not for us to rule. If I were out there, I would have done the same thing as Josh. I can’t imagine leaving any of the guys behind during a time like that.”
“But you don’t have a wife waiting for you at home.”
“I don’t, but even if I did, I would have done the same. I’d sacrifice my life for my brothers, and I know they’d do the same for me.”
“It’s so hard,” she sobs. Her strong façade chipping away slowly.
“I know.” I stand and walk toward her, wrapping an arm around her shoulder. “But you gotta keep living.”
“I don’t know how,” she says between tears.
“Start by spending more time with those who care about you.”
“I can’t yet.” She shakes her head. I sigh, knowing it will take more than one pep-talk to get her to see what she’s missing out on by hiding inside these walls, blaming Josh.
After Bri has no more tears left in her for the night, I leave her house, promising to check in on her again.
My pounding head torments me as I stare at marketing data on my computer screen, thanks to my meltdown last night with Cole. Not even data analysis is distracting me today, and I fucking love data analysis. I became the marketing specialist for the Nashville Sounds a few years ago and have loved the job ever since. Marketing is constantly changing, so it keeps me on my toes—something I especially appreciate these days. Right now, though, I want to bang my head against this computer screen and hope it both helps to rid me of the pain and figure out this data simultaneously.
I take a short break and walk to the break room to refill my coffee cup. Hoping the caffeine will kick in immediately and the day will pass by just as fast, I drag my ass back to my office and stare at more numbers.
I didn’t mean to break down last night in front of Cole, but he was there and I couldn’t hold back. I could barely sleep afterward, and I swear I smelled Josh’s cologne in our bedroom throughout the night. I breathe deeply to stop the dam from overflowing at work. This is the one place where I have been in control.
I rub my wedding ring with my thumb and sigh. My eyes move around, seeing nothing in particular, as I sit still as stone except for my thumb moving across the cool metal. Til death do us part. Death did part us. It tore us apart, burying one and leaving the other untouched, but just as dead. Hollow, that is how I feel, because the person I have spent years loving, being wholeheartedly myself with free of judgment, was taken from me. Taken by violence and pride. Taken by enemies protecting themselves from their enemies. In war, who is the real enemy?
I bite my lower lip in an attempt to hold in the final blow of emotions. Seeing that I only have an hour left at work, I call it an early day and leave. I’ve worked through enough lunches these last few months to make up for this hour. Sitting here will do nothing to help, so I go home ready to open a bottle of red and curl on the couch.
Two glasses of wine later, I lie on the couch in one Josh’s old t-shirts in a blubbering mess as I listen to Lee Brice’s “I Drive Your Truck.” I should have known when I decided to turn on the country music channel on the television that something along these lines would happen. I don’t care though. I’m going to cry freely for the man I lost, and I’ll be damned if anyone gets in the way of that.
Argh!
The doorbell rings at this exact moment. That’s either Olivia or Cole again.
I wipe under my eyes, smooth my hair back the best I can with a shaky hand, and lower the volume. I can’t find a tissue anywhere so I sniff and avoid my reflection in the mirror.
“Hey!” I feign happiness with a big smile plastered on my face.
“Thank fuck you aren’t an actress.”
I scowl at Cole, which causes him to laugh.
“Why are you here?”
“By the looks of it, you should be thanking me for being here.” He furrows his eyebrows as he observes me.
“I want to be alone.”
“Too bad. I drove all the way over here with a pint of ice cream. I’m coming in.”
“You drove a whole ten minutes?” I’m not in the mood for his good humor. I’m not in the mood for anyone’s good humor and cheer-me-up comfort food. Why don’t they get it?
Cole ignores my rude comment and waltzes into my house, growling when he hears Miranda Lambert’s “Over You” playing from my television. “Yeah, you should definitely thank me for showing up by the sound and looks of this place.” He skirts around the half-empty bottle of wine and my empty glass and grabs the remote, turning off the television.
“Not really.” I cross my arms. Josh’s scent invades my senses from his t-shirt, and I allow it to take me home. I close my eyes as one of our last memories together flashes behind my lids. We had breakfast for dinner and ate it in bed. It was our last breakfast in bed with a promise of many more when he returned. My breath falters, as my chest trembles with emotion. Tears pool behind my closed eyes, as I remember the laughter from that night and the tenderness in his touch.
No tears fall when I reopen my eyes, all trapped in my lashes, but Cole is watching me with sympathy that I don’t want. I rub my eyes, surely smearing my mascara even more, and grab my wine glass.
Would it be rude to finish off the bottle and not offer him any?
I walk into the kitchen and place the glass on the counter. My emotional high crashes, and I’m left with the after-effects. This high wasn’t worth the feeling I have now in my chest.
Emptiness. Numbness. Bitterness.
I stare at the backsplash, dazed. My mind blank, just seeing how the marble stone blends together in swirls of grays. I’m tired. For the first time in months, I want to sleep. Except, sometimes when I close my eyes, I hear Josh’s sleep talk about explosions and finding cover.
By the time I break the spell with the tile, Cole has grabbed two spoons and served each of us ice cream in a bowl.
“It’s kinda melted already.” He shrugs apologetically.
“I like it like that,” I deadpan and climb on a stool.
We eat it in silence, the low swooshing of the air conditioner the only sound surrounding us. Soon it will be too cool to have it on. I eat the cookies and cream sweetness, but I still feel void.
“We’re all going to Riot tomorrow night. You should come.”
I shake my head.
“Come on. It’ll be fun.” Cole taps his elbow to my arm.
“Thanks, but I’m not in the mood.”
“It’ll be good to get out of here for a while.”
“I like it here. This is my home. I’ll decide when I need to get out of here.” I snap at him.
“All right.” He stands and puts his bowl and spoon in the sink. “Whatever suits you.” He walks through my house and leaves, but not before turning the television back on. A silent message that my life is depressing.
I scrub my hands up and down my face and grab my phone. My notifications show too many ignored messages. I open my photo album and scroll through, finding the picture I’m looking for.
Josh and I on our honeymoon.
It’s my favo
rite picture. Tears threaten again, as my breath comes in and out, and I cover my face with my hands, my phone clacking against the counter. I squeeze my hands over my face, hoping it eases the pain, but tears fall regardless of the barrier I try to offer. My body rocks back and forth as I sob, the picture I was seeking as a savior betrayed me. I hiccup but don’t force myself to stop. Instead, drops of water land on the counter and bowl below me as I rest my elbows on the hard stone and hold my head with my hands, fingers gripping my hair. My body wracks with uncontrollable sobs. With each cry, a piece of me breaks apart. A piece of me vanishes.
A knock at the door startles me. That must be Cole again. I answer the door, trying my best to pretend I’m okay when clearly I’m not. I’m a mess today.
“Hey,” Olivia says and frowns when she sees me. “Oh, babe.” She pulls me in for a hug. I wrap my arms around her and cry into her shoulder. We stand like this for an endless amount of time—me crying and her rubbing a hand across my back in soothing circles.
I finally pull away and lead her in.
“I’ve been calling and sending messages. I’m worried, so I decided to just show up. I know you want to be alone, but we don’t do the silent treatment.”
“I know. I’m sorry. It’s just been a few hard days.”
“Want to talk?” she asks.
I shake my head and sit on the sofa. “Want wine instead?”
“I always want wine.” She smiles genuinely and goes to the kitchen to grab the glasses. Thank God for best friends and silent understandings.
Olivia returns and hands me a wine glass. I gratefully take it. “Thanks.” I say after a hefty chug of the Cab.
“Anytime.”
We sit like this for a few minutes, each of us enjoying the wine and the other’s company. Olivia has been my best friend since we were young. Sometimes all I need is to sit by her in order to feel better.
Love You Through It Page 2