“Who were you talking to?” He asks again with more interest.
“No one. I’m going to bed.” I throw away the empty beer bottle and head back to my room.
I’m an idiot. I feel for a woman who was off limits for years. Today, she’s still off limits for a different reason. I’ve fucked my way through cities, I won’t deny it, but nothing compares to craving a connection with someone.
I remember the first time I met Bri. That woman was unique. She showed up to support Olivia after Cash singled her out at Country Fest, and she quickly wormed her way into my thoughts. I wanted nothing more than to conquer her, until Cash explained her boyfriend was deployed. Shit, you respect that. I don’t need to take another man’s woman, let alone a man in the service. That is something you admire. We’re all living the dream thanks to the men and women overseas keeping us safe. Many lives are lost and many families are torn apart, yet I’m here, still making my music. And falling for the widow of a fallen soldier.
“Hey, is everything okay?” I look at Cash and shrug. If I can confide in anyone, it would be him.
“Got a lot on my mind.”
“Want to talk about it?” We walk out of the radio station where we just had an interview, and I nod. Time to fess up, but I know Cash won’t judge. He’ll give me a different perspective, and I could use one. Had I told Jason last night, shit would’ve hit the fan.
“Let’s grab some beers and talk. Meet at Riot?”
I nod and hop in my car. I need more than some beers to talk about this. I’m a loser, reaching out to one of my best friends to talk about girls. But truth is, Cash has always been a romantic so he would understand my situation more than anyone. He’s be in love and lost it. He knows pain, even if in a different sense. He also knows Bri pretty fucking well.
“What’s the deal?” Cash asks as he slides into the booth I’m sitting at. He folds his hands on the table across from me, prepared to tackle whatever is weighing down on me. Typical Cash.
“It’s complicated.” I sigh and lean back into the cushioned bench.
“I haven’t seen you this torn up in years.”
“Man, I need you to be sensible Cash right now. And not a word of this to anyone, especially Olivia.”
Cash’s eyebrows rise, but he nods slowly. “You got it. As long as it doesn’t cause me a divorce. I kinda wanna keep Liv forever.”
“Bro, you’re hopeless when it comes to love.”
“Won’t apologize either. Now, tell me what’s going on.”
I take a drink from my cold beer. “I’m worried about Bri.”
Cash’s brows pinch together at the center.
“I want her to be okay. I’ve been keeping in touch with her, visiting when I can to make sure she’s waking up each morning a little stronger.”
“Visiting her?” Cash tilts his head.
“Yeah.”
“Huh…”
“What does ‘huh’ mean? She’s a friend, and I don’t want to see her get lost in life.” I try to excuse myself, but he knows better by the growing smile on his face.
“Cole Burkely likes a girl.”
“Come on, Cash. What are we, five?”
He leans back into his seat, chuckling like a jackass. “Just didn’t peg you for the type that would want to take care of one woman.”
“It’s Bri.”
He looks at me, any trace of a smile gone now, and nods once. “I know. She’s been through a lot. I wouldn’t be strong enough to endure what she’s living.” It is clear Cash has reflected on this. “To lose the love of your life.” He shudders, staring at his beer bottle.
“I know. I can’t imagine that, but she needs to overcome this.”
Cash looks up at me, his mouth set in a hard line. “I understand, but…” He shakes his head. “I know your intentions are good, but, right now, she needs to feel her emotions. We can’t force her to get over the loss or grieve the way we think is best. Right now, she needs a friend.”
“I know.” I spin my own beer bottle between my hands.
“This has been a huge loss for her, unexpected. In her mind, Josh was never getting deployed again. Whether she believed that or not, she grasped on to the hope.”
“I just want her to know that she has people to lean on. She has a support system. I’ve seen her break down, tell me how angry she is with Josh for going back to save his friend. I’ve had to hear her say how she wishes she were dead, too.” My voice rises with each sentence.
“Be a friend. She doesn’t need any confusion right now or anything else to worry about, like hurting your feelings.” He looks at my sympathetically. That hurt. “But fuck, if she’ll at least talk to one of us and not hide in the memories, it will help. Just remember, Bri isn’t some chick you met at a bar. Don’t treat her like one.”
“You know I fucking won’t,” I snap.
“Just saying. I also don’t know if she’ll ever be ready for another relationship.” Pity marks his face as he looks at me.
“Understood.” That thought has already crossed my mind. I’m not looking to bang Bri. Yeah, it’s crossed my mind, especially when I first met her. Then I got to know her and realized she isn’t the kind of woman you fuck and leave. She is the kind of woman you make sure to keep satisfied, so she won’t leave.
That was all worthless, though, when I was informed of her boyfriend at the time. Then she got married. Now, she’s a widow. A widow. That doesn’t sound right, but it’s reality. I want to protect and care for her. I want to be there to help her get her spark back and watch her burn with passion when she does.
I finish with Cash and head home, thoughts of Bri stuck in my head.
I get home after a workout and jump straight in the shower. Nothing like a run in the cool, fall air and sweating out the tension. My conversation with Cash last night is still ringing in my ears. Shaking off the sympathy he looked at me with, I type out a quick text.
I smile when she responds.
Bri: I’m doing okay
Bri: How are you?
Cole: Good. Work and stuff. The usual.
Bri: not sure being a rock star is the usual for most people
Cole: lol… we’re not rock stars. Just playing music that we love
Bri: you’re still famous
Cole: yeah…
I’m rarely at a loss for words, but dealing with Bri is different than picking up a woman at a bar. Our conversation is stunted, both of us keeping casual pleasantries.
Cole: You getting by okay this week?
Bri: day by day… It might be time to start clearing out some of his stuff
Cole: if you want help you know where to reach me
Bri: thanks… maybe. not sure if I’m strong enough to do it alone
Cole: just call me and I’ll be there
“Hey, you ready to go?” Jason knocks on my bedroom door.
“Yeah,” I call out and grab my wallet.
We head to Riot in separate cars in case either wants to stay out later. Riot is the bar that first gave us a chance and allowed us to perform for years before we began touring and got signed with our label. We’ll go back there every time we can and put on a more intimate show for our loyal fans.
“You boys ready?” Ryder asks when we’re all at the bar.
“Rock out, stay focused, and show them what we’re made of,” Cash prepares us for our performance.
“Cheers,” we all say in unison as we throw back a shot.
I get lost in the music, working the sticks of the drums like a pro and keeping in rhythm with the other guys. Our fans sing along with us, moving to the beats. This is what we live for, sharing our music with the world. Making them feel. Each day I’m thankful that I decided to join Cash on his crazy idea. After years of working hard, we made it.
Cash closes our set with the song he wrote to propose to Olivia, signaling her out. Those two.
“You guys did great,” Olivia compliments once we reach the bar after our set.
; “Thanks,” I tell her and order a beer. I lean against the bar, watching everything play out around me. Cash and Olivia are hugging and slowly moving together, despite the fast rhythm playing. Ryder and Jen are dancing in the center of the bar, drawing attention. I chuckle to myself at the difference between the two couples before I catch Jason staring at me.
“You scouting the place for your next conquest?”
“Nah, just keeping a low profile tonight,” I tell him.
“You’ve been doing that more often. Getting old?”
“I still have plenty of years left in me. Don’t be jealous because the ladies like me more.”
“Right. Seen you get turned down more than enough times for you to claim that.”
“Threesome,” I remind him.
“You left with two women. Who knows what really happened.”
“Trust me, both were eagerly involved.” I cock a brow.
“Then show me.” Jason holds his arm out, opening up to the bar where plenty of single females are flaunting what their mommas gave them.
“Not tonight.”
“Who is she?” He juts his chin toward me.
“Who?”
“The woman you’re seeing.”
“I’m not seeing anyone.” I shake my head.
“You may think you’ve got people fooled, but I live with you. I see the signs. I don’t get why you’re ashamed of saying anything.” He crosses his arms.
“Brother, I’m not ashamed of anything. There’s no one.” I clarify and drink my beer.
“What’s going on?” Intuitive Cash comes in at the right time.
“Nothing,” I respond.
Jason turns his head, pretending to be interested in the patrons around us.
“You sure?”
“Yup. I was just asking Cole who would be his pick tonight.” Jason taunts with a smile.
“Just relaxing tonight,” I tell them both.
“I think that’s a good idea. Jason, go grab yourself a lady and let him kick back and drink his beer.” Gotta love Cash’s nonchalance.
“Whatever,” Jason mutters and walks away, pissed I’m lying to him. He isn’t wrong that something is up, but I’m not ready to talk about it.
“Thanks, man.” I look at Cash.
“Don’t mention it. He’ll let it go eventually.”
“Doubtful. He’s been on me about this for a few weeks now.”
Cash raises an eyebrow. “A few weeks?”
I shrug, ignoring his inquiry, and order another beer.
“Babe,” Olivia says. Thank God for perfect timing.
“What’s wrong?”
“I hate to cut this short, but I need to go see Bri. She just texted. I gotta go see her.” I instantly tense, and listen carefully for any details as I check my phone. No messages.
“Okay. Let’s go.” Cash grabs his keys from his pocket.
“Stay. I’ll go. I can pick you up in a bit if you’re still here, or maybe Ryder can drop you off?”
“I’ll take him,” I offer, interrupting their conversation.
“Thanks, Cole.” Olivia looks at me with grateful eyes.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to go?” Cash asks.
“Yes. Stay and have fun. Make sure these guys don’t get into trouble.” She beams, winking at us. I can’t help but chuckle. I love that girl.
“Okay. You call me if anything. I’ll walk you out to the car.” Olivia says bye and walks out of the bar with Cash. Tension builds on my shoulders and I order a shot of tequila. I told Bri to call me if she needed me. Why won’t she? I know Olivia is her best friend, but damn it if I don’t want to be the one to comfort her.
Fuck.
She’s got me all tied up. I would rather be home right now than here, pretending to care about the fans greeting me and the music playing.
“You need to relax, man.” Cash squeezes my shoulder as he returns to the spot next to me.
“Fuck, man. I can’t.”
“You can’t be her savior. That’s not your job.”
“I know, but I worry,” I tell him.
“I get it.”
I remain silent, leaning against the bar, observing the interactions playing out in front of me. My mind wanders to Bri. I still haven’t received anything from her, and after a couple of hours, I accept that I won’t hear from her. I’m no one in her life. A friend, sure, but not one of the people she confides in completely. I’m not special, so I don’t know why I thought I could be. The most I can offer is the skill of playing the drums and keeping a beat. Why would she trust a manwhore, who used to live for showing off the notches on his bedpost?
“Ready to go?” I look over at Cash, who’s talking to Jason.
“Yeah. I want to make sure I’m home when Liv arrives.”
I nod and tell Jason I’ll see him later.
The other night was a disaster. In an attempt to be productive, I began to clear out a few things from the garage. Josh’s golf clubs, basketball, his old sneakers. I figured if I started small, with things that were less intimate to me, it wouldn’t be as difficult.
A bottle of wine and a broken golf club later, I caved and messaged Olivia. It wasn’t my proudest moment, but she had already witnessed worse or equally bad ones. We sat on the garage floor and spoke. I expressed the pain I felt in clearing out Josh’s things. Up until now, reality has only somewhat sunk in. Once his belongings are gone, nothing will be left of him. At least, nothing concrete. Pictures and memories. Those could fade away with time.
Your life with Josh is something you will always carry with you. Even if pictures are destroyed, he lives in your heart.
Liv was right. So with her help, I packed up one thing—his golf clubs. Baby steps. Knowing that I need more support, and calling my friends late at night is not fair to them, I took Cash’s advice and found a grief counselor.
My first appointment is today and I am a mess as I drive to her office. I left work a little early to make sure I make it to my session with enough time. I park in the small lot behind the brick building and walk as confidently as possible to the front door. A chime rings as I open the door, and I stand inside waiting for someone to appear. A small desk is placed in front of me with a laptop. To the right, I see a sitting area with a few magazines in a basket next to one of the chairs and a coffee maker on a console table against the wall. It’s cozy for being a therapist office.
“Hi,” a woman says, smiling warmly. “I’m Liza. You must be Bri.” She stretches out her hand to shake mine. I take her hand, greeting her.
“Hi, yes. Nice to meet you.” My shoulders relax a bit seeing the person I will be working with and the peace that surrounds her office. I wondered if the energy would feel dense from people’s problems circulating around the space. Instead, I get a whiff of pine and hear soothing music over a speaker system.
“I need you to fill out a couple of papers before we begin—some general information and a consent form. You are welcome to grab a cup of coffee if you’d like, as well.” I nod silently and take the clipboard with the papers and a pen from her. I skip the coffee, not needing anything else to amp up my nerves. She sits at the desk in the entrance as I sit on a chair in the small waiting area and fill out what she needs.
“Here you go,” I say a few minutes later, standing across from her desk.
“Thank you.” I watch as she files them in a drawer and stands to lock the door. “I always lock the door while I’m in session to avoid any interruptions.”
Liza leads me to a room with a love seat and an armchair. She motions to the love seat. I sit, leaning back into the cushions and watch as she jots something down on a notepad. I observe the shadow of the flickering flame of the candle on the small table next to me while I wait for her to speak.
We talk about Josh and my relationship. I tell her about how we met and everything leading up to our wedding. Liza asks questions at the perfect time, leading the conversation from one topic to another without being pushy. I w
asn’t sure what I was expecting, but this isn’t it. She’s gentle and patient. Before I know it, the hour is up and we are scheduling our second session.
After thanking her, I drive home feeling nostalgic but grateful.
“Thanks,” Cole says as I hand him a spoon.
He showed up again tonight. It has been a few days since I have spoken to him, and more since I’ve seen him. He came bearing Ben & Jerry’s ice cream, so I couldn’t turn him away. Since I got home from my therapy session, I’ve been reflecting and watching mindless television. This is a welcomed distraction.
“I started seeing a therapist today,” I tell him.
“Yeah?” He looks up at me mid bite. I nod. “And?”
“It was good. Different than I imagined. My therapist is nice and her place is inviting. No padded walls or straight jackets.”
“Bri, you don’t need to be locked up.”
“Some days I feel like I do.” I shrug.
“So you’re going to work with her?”
“I am. I think she can help. You guys are right, I need to grieve Josh’s death so I can keep living, as much as that pains me to think about.”
“It will be good for you. If you need support when the time comes to clear out some of his stuff, I’m a phone call away.”
“Thanks, Cole. I appreciate it.” I eat my ice cream, relaxing for the first time in a long time. “How’s work?”
“It’s great.” His broad smile covers his face. “We’ve been busy with the label, recording, doing interviews, and promotions. All the business stuff that goes into being a musician.”
I smile at how nonchalant he says that, as if being a famous musician is an everyday occurrence.
“Did we ever tell you about the time we hung out with Florida Georgia Line? Those guys are a riot. We coincided in a city on our last tour and spent a day with them in between shows, snowboarding and drinking a lot more than we should have.”
“I can’t imagine. So, they are as cool as they seem on the media?”
“Yeah, great guys.”
“It’s nice when you hear famous people are cool despite their status. So many have huge egos.”
Love You Through It Page 4