Serenading Heartbreak

by Ella Fields

  “Sorry,” I said. “So it’s small, but you came, right?”

  She took a seat on the other side of the table, shoved her hand inside the cereal box and threw a handful of dry Froot Loops into her mouth. “True.” She groaned. “It still sucks, though. He’s exactly my type. Fun and smart with a little bit of asshole sprinkled over the top.”

  I smirked, then blew out a breath while I responded a quick fine to Aiden.

  Prince: Fine? The universal word for not fine is fine.

  Me: I’m okay. Just tired.

  I watched the bubbles come and go as Adela kept chewing cereal, and he hesitated with a response. Finally, they stopped. I left my phone and took my bowl to the sink.

  “Hey, you called me pretty late last night. What was that about?”

  It was on the tip of my tongue to tell her, to explain everything that’d happened, but as I rinsed the bowl and placed it and the spoon in the dishwasher, I swallowed the words. “I was just looking for a new light bulb. All good.”

  She hummed. “I hope you didn’t get on any chairs.”

  “I was fine.” I gave her a look and then made my way to the shower.

  Shampoo swirled down the drain, soapy bubbles mingling with fresh sheets of water. The sound of Everett’s regret, his torment, wouldn’t leave me alone, and haunted me as I dressed and ran a brush through my hair.

  Giving in, I returned to the kitchen to get my phone and tried to call him.

  He didn’t have voicemail. When it rang out, I tried to distract myself with a book on the couch while Adela watched Dirty Dancing for the hundredth time.

  When she’d gone to bed, the lie I’d told lingered over my skin like a frosted breeze. Everett still hadn’t called, so I tried again.

  Then I tried Hendrix, who didn’t answer but sent me a text.

  Hendrix: At studio, can’t talk right now. Is Everett with you?

  I didn’t even respond. The book tumbled from my hand to the floor as I got up from the couch and grabbed my keys and purse. If he wasn’t at the studio, then where was he?

  I hated it. I hated that the first place that came to mind after what’d happened last night was the bar.

  Anger scorched like a blazing trail of fire, tightening my hands around the steering wheel as I parked in the half-filled lot of Zoe’s.

  I thought, judging by how he’d acted that morning, that he’d realized he couldn’t do this anymore. But as I pounded up the steps to his apartment, unlocking the door and swinging it open, I discovered just how wrong it was to assume anything when it came to Everett Taylor.

  His bed had been stripped, the mattress turned on its side. Some of his meager belongings sat in two boxes in the corner. The window was wide open, the gauzy curtains swaying in the summer-night breeze, erasing his scent from the room.

  “Oh, good.” Zoe’s voice stopped the hurt from pouring down my face. “Can you take his shit? He said he didn’t want it, but he’s got journals filled with lyrics in one of those boxes.” She snapped her gum, and her cheap perfume stuffed itself up my nostrils. “Seems kind of wrong to throw them out.”

  I turned to her. “He left?”

  Zoe’s mouth gaped, and for the first time since I’d met her, I saw what looked like pity flicker through her sharp brown eyes. “Well, yeah. He dropped off the next two weeks’ rent, took a bag and his guitar, and just walked out.”

  I swallowed, bile turning my stomach and clawing at my throat. “He…” I gripped the doorframe to steady myself. “What time?”

  Zoe scratched at her temple. “Ah, maybe around midafternoon?” Pausing, she forced out a gruff laugh. “Wait, so he didn’t tell you he was moving?”

  “No.”

  “I figured he might’ve found a better place to stay at. Yours even, seeing as you’re having a baby and all.”

  I placed a hand over my stomach. “You knew?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Girl, please. I’ve got more kids than I know what to do with. And I looked just like you’ve been looking these past weeks, scared as shit, every time I found out their deadbeat dad had knocked me up again.”

  I shook my head, trying to clear the black invading my vision. “He’s gone.”

  “Gone?” Zoe repeated, her thin penciled brows rising. “He didn’t look to be in a good way, that’s for sure.”

  “He’s not.” The nausea grew talons. “If you hear from him, will you tell me?”

  “Wait, so he for real just left you?” she asked. “Son of a bitch. Want me to burn his shit?”

  I looked back at the boxes, the chasm named Everett cracking wide open. “No. Wherever he’s gone, he’ll probably come back.” Eventually. Even if eventually would no longer wait.

  “Fucking hell.” Zoe sighed, marching into the room and stacking one box on top of the other. “Well, you better not take his stupid ass back when he does. I’ll carry these down for you.”

  I smiled at the rare act of kindness, knowing it was from a place of solidarity. But I couldn’t stop the shock, the disbelief from seeping into each heavy step to my car.

  My phone rang as I drove home, the film over my eyes making everything a blurred haze. I hit answer on the steering wheel, my heart hoping and praying for his voice.

  “Stevie, fuck. Either answer the phone or just text me and tell me you don’t want to talk.” I said nothing, swatting tears as disappointment hit me like a tidal wave. “Stevie?”

  “I’m here,” I strangled out. “Sorry.”

  “Where are you?”

  “Driving. I’m heading to the studio.”

  Aiden paused. “You’re crying.”

  “Seems to be a recurring thing lately.” I laughed, bitter and wet. “He’s gone. Again.”

  Aiden cursed. “Don’t keep driving, please. I’ll meet you at your place.”

  The sound of his keys jangling reached me. “No, I need to talk to them. I need to see if they know where he went.”

  “Stevie,” he warned.

  “I’m going, Aiden.”

  Another round of cussing. “Fine. At least let me take you.”

  “No. You’ve been dragged through this enough.” I sniffed. “Since you first fucking met me.”

  “That’s my choice. Now go to your place, and I’ll meet you there. It’s dark out, and you’re in no state to be driving.”

  Ugh. I almost screamed, but I did as he said and turned around.

  I sat in my car until Aiden’s roared into the space behind, and then I got out and climbed inside as he held the door open for me.

  “Are you sure you want to be around me right now?”

  He clipped on his seat belt, then threw a U-turn and drove down the street. “Rain, hail, or shine, Petal.”

  My lungs were about to collapse, my breathing erratic. Too fast and too shallow. “He left… he fucking left.”

  Taking my hand, Aiden squeezed it. And I was thankful he didn’t say anything when he had a million reasons and a glaring, golden opportunity to say I told you so.

  “What are you going to do when we get there?” Cars zoomed by on the highway, heading home from work, and on my thigh, his hand curled around mine.

  “Try to get some answers.”

  “Would they even know anything?” The question was hesitant, as though he could feel everything coiling inside me, winding tight and ready to explode.

  “They’d have to. He was recording an album, for shit’s sake. He can’t just up and leave them without saying something to someone.”

  Aiden chose silence for the remainder of the trip. When we neared the turnoff, I blinked back the burn in my eyes.

  Aiden finally spoke, voice low. “He’s done this before.”

  “This is different.” My own voice was quiet, weak. Defeated. “He’s usually leaving with the band, not running away from them.” From all of us.

  Only me. He only ever ran from me.

  The row of warehouses came into view. We reached the lot, and I barely waited for the car to stop before jum

ping out and marching across it to the doors, pushing them open.

  They didn’t budge, and I growled, slamming my hand down on the buzzer repeatedly until Graham’s voice came over the intercom. “Little sis?”

  “Where is he?”

  “Ah…” A beat of silence as Aiden stood at my back, then, “Let me get your brother.”

  A minute later, Hendrix walked outside, his eyes widening as if he’d just realized it was night. “God, any longer in this bunker, and we’re all going to turn into pasty vampires.”

  “Everett,” I rushed out. “He left the apartment at Zoe’s and paid out his rent.”

  Hendrix let out a long breath, his gaze moving from me to Aiden and back again as the rest of the band filed out behind him. Heaving out a pained sound, he rubbed a hand over his forehead. “Motherfucker.”

  He could play dumb all he wanted, but I knew that spark of recognition in his eyes. “Hendrix, tell me. Where is he?”

  “I don’t know, Steve. I swear.”

  Rage colored my vision, and I shoved at his chest, screaming, “Bullshit.” My hands slammed down, and he did nothing to stop me, just stood there as I hit his chest again and again. “You’re lying. One of you has to know. You’d know, he’s your best fucking friend.” Tears choked my voice. “He can’t do this to me again. Not again. I can’t…” Hands pulled me back, turning me into a warm, hard chest as the fading screams became a garbled, keening sound. “He can’t. Not this time.” I gasped, gritting out, “Not this time.”

  Aiden’s hold tightened, and I sagged against him, then he was half carrying me back to his car. The door slammed and the engine started, cool air blowing over my skin as he stood outside, talking to Hendrix.

  My hands ripped into my hair as I lowered my head to my knees. I remained locked that way until Aiden helped me out of the car at home.

  The days passed, carrying years of history in a taunting cycle.

  Fleeting snippets of time mingled. The good and the bad and the heartbreakingly horrible moments all coalescing into a multicolored web of something so beautifully imperfect, it was a wonder they ever existed at all. That we’d ever existed at all.

  Love was supposed to forgive all things. Of that I was a strong believer. But what happened when love was only capable of taking so much? What happened when the bad started outweighing the good, and the good was never meant to be a song sang to completion?

  We’d ended time and time again, yet we’d never really started. And now we had. We had a beginning and an ending, and the pain was infinitely harder to carry than before, to swallow like a foul-tasting pill and trudge onward.

  I wasn’t sure which was more difficult to admit. That we were never meant to make something whole out of something too broken, or that it was time to give up, once and for all.

  He never answered my calls, and as the first day of his absence rolled into the second, it became clear that his phone was either off, discarded, or disconnected.

  Aiden had taken me home after the murky events of me losing my shit outside the studio. He’d laid down behind me on my bed, listening to me cry for another man. Just like that other man had done when Aiden had left me in a similar position. He didn’t touch me or say anything, but his presence alone soothed more than it shamed.

  Still, I wished I could have turned it off. That I’d done something to make it easier for him, but that was impossible. In fact, misery had pulled me so deep, I’d forgotten he was there until he’d set a bottle of water and a mug of tea on my nightstand, then kissed my forehead before Adela took his place.

  He’d left after that, and I hadn’t heard from him since. Not that I could blame him or find it within me to care enough to call.

  Adela remained a force of quiet strength in those first few days, flitting around the apartment to fetch me food. Not only did she remind me to shower, but she also took me to my first sonogram.

  I was numb, too numb. And though the sight of my baby caused a ripple of happiness, of excitement and love to unfurl in the darkness, it was too bittersweet to appreciate the moment in its entirety.

  He was missing it. Wherever he was, whatever he was doing, he was going to keep on living without his child in his life. He would miss everything.

  But that was his mistake. No longer would I cling to throbbing memories of him or the hope that always straddled my every decision where Everett was concerned.

  No more.

  The phone rang three times before she picked up. “Honey, hey! One second, I’ve just got a student here finishing up.”

  I waited as Mom set the phone down, my eyes falling from the stark white ceiling of my bedroom to the colored scarfs hanging over my lampshade and bookshelves. The yellow dress lying over the bright blue ottoman by the window. The purple and floral Docs and red Chucks by the chair near the door. Why was everything so damn bright?

  “You there?”

  “I’m here,” I said, a hoarseness to my voice I couldn’t clear.

  “Are you all right?”

  I assumed Hendrix hadn’t yet told them. My best guess was he was too busy trying to figure out what to do with a half-recorded album.

  “No.” Sorrow dripped into my voice, my veins, my very bones. “I need you.”

  She didn’t hesitate. “I’ll be there by tonight. Should I pack a bag?”

  “Please.”

  “I think it’s a great idea.” Sabrina patted my shoulder.

  Gloria snatched the pamphlet, slipping her pink glasses on. “Strengthens the body and calms the mind.” She hummed. “Well, it couldn’t exactly hurt, could it?”

  Adela had suggested it after hearing some of the moms in her tiny tot’s dance class discuss it. I took the pamphlet back, drumming my gnawed off nails on the picture of a glowing pregnant woman. “School starts next week, though.”

  “So?” Gloria perked a brow.

  “So I’m going to get busy.” I was five months and starting to show, but as much as I loved my tiny bump, I couldn’t lie and say I wasn’t nervous about attending school again.

  Mom had encouraged it, reasoning the more credits I had, the easier it’d be to return if I wanted to after the baby was born. I wanted to, and though it wasn’t exactly rare to see moms on campus, pregnant or with babies in tow, I considered maybe working more instead. I’d need the money, and I could hopefully finish my degree online.

  Sabrina and Gloria were too quiet. “What?”

  Sabrina sighed. “Not to sound like an evil old crow, but you’re no busier than what you were when he was here. You have that time available to you now, so use it for yourself.” Her voice was stern but not uncaring, which helped the dose of tough love go down a smidgen easier.

  “Okay.” I admitted defeat, staring back at the pamphlet. “I’ll consider it.”

  They smiled, and Gloria even offered to come with, just as the door opened and Aiden strolled in.

  I couldn’t wipe the shock off my face if I tried. Last I’d heard when I finally vacated the dark cloud Everett had left raining over my head and texted him, he’d gone back to Atlanta.

  “What are you doing here?” I smiled, feeling some of the heaviness ease off my chest.

  He tucked his hands into his pockets, grinning at Sabrina and Gloria, who tittered and waved before disappearing into the back room. “Was passing through, thought I’d check in.”

  “Uh-huh.” I was still smiling, enjoying that I could as I took in his dimpled smirk and the way some of his dark hair sprinkled over his forehead.

  He drew in a breath, releasing it with his words. “So, actually, I’m keeping the apartment.”

  I blinked, my heart kicking. “What?”

  He tilted a shoulder as if making such a monumental decision wasn’t a big deal. “I figured you’d need help looking up gory birth videos, someone to fetch your ice cream in the middle of the night, and to remind you that even when you can’t see your toes, you’re still the most beautiful thing in the world.”

  “Prince,�� I breathed, swallowing hard. “You’re too damn sweet, and I don’t deserve it.”

  “Stevie, don’t give me that—”

  “No,” I whispered, not wanting to say it but knowing I had to. It hurt, like razorblades lining my throat, as I forced out, “You can’t drop your life for me. You’d only be wasting your time.” His mouth tightened, but I raised my hand and pushed on. “I can’t. I’m done. Not just with Everett but with the entire male species at this rate.”

  “I wasn’t implying you bend over and lift that fluffy skirt for me.”

  I stared down at my favorite pink ruffle skirt, then raised my gaze to his with my mouth hanging open.

  A light chuckle flitted past his lips, but it didn’t match the pinch of darkness I saw flash in his eyes. “Kidding, Petal. My dad needs me closer to home for a while anyway to help with a few things. And I thought it’d be a good opportunity to make sure you’re doing okay. Friends. We did it once, so we can do it again, right?”

  I lifted a brow.

  Another smirk, then his teeth sank into his lip. “Right.” He sighed. “Okay, well, I’ll be around if you need someone to help shave those lovely legs of yours.”

  “Aiden.”

  The door open, sunlight streaking the paint specked concrete floor, he gazed at me over his shoulder. “Yeah?”

  “You’re too good to be true.” I meant every word. I loved him. Boy, did I love him. But I’d spent too much of my life being in love, and I was sick of the way it seemed to cause more pain than happiness. If my goal in life was to make others happy, to fill people’s eyes and souls, and my own, with beauty, then I couldn’t keep slamming heart-first into misery.

  My words had his lips tilting up, then he winked and sauntered out the door.

  Aiden was back in town the following month, but I hadn’t seen him.

  Our dialogue took place via text messages, and I often dodged his calls, if only to avoid the temptation to crawl inside his comfort. It was enough that it helped whenever I saw his name light up the screen of my phone.

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