Page 34 of Rock On

“I mean, I don’t bring anyone home to the house. My sister lives with me so when she’s home, I can go out for a few hours or overnight.”

“And you meet guys for the specific purpose of having sex?”

“I used to. I’ve stopped. It’s been about six months. Until the other night with my ex. But that’s a different story for when we have time.”

Her eyes widened slightly, the first sign I’d seen of surprise. “You had sex with your ex-husband recently?”

I rolled my eyes. “Yes. That’s a big part of what brought me here. It made me realize I truly haven’t moved on, and I can’t keep pining for him. I just can’t. It hurts too much.”

“Well.” She cleared her throat. “Tomorrow I have openings at ten thirty and one o’clock. The grief support group is at three thirty, and while you don’t have to go, I highly recommend it.”

“Let’s do one o’clock,” I said. “I saw that there’s a yoga class at ten and I was hoping to go on the picnic lunch thing at eleven thirty.”

“It’s a date.”

“Thank you.” I started to get up.

“And Harley? Don’t be afraid to face your fears. That’s part of the growth you’re looking for, even if you don’t think you’re ready. Until you do that, nothing will get better.”

I wasn’t sure what that meant, but I nodded anyway.

I was here to learn and figured she was going to help me.

That was the hope I was clinging to because it felt like this was my last hope for finding peace in my life again.

THIRTEEN

Tommy

Physical therapy wasn’t as bad as I’d thought. Between the steroids and the fact that I was in good physical shape simply by virtue of what I did for a living, my knee felt pretty good after a few days. It was still sore, but I didn’t need the pain meds anymore to sleep and the exercises the therapist had me doing felt pretty good.

I really liked Allisha. She was the straight-shooter I’d pegged her for and the two sessions we’d had so far hadn’t felt like therapy so much as finally having someone to talk to. She didn’t spend the time telling me what I was doing wrong or pointing out my flaws. Instead, she seemed sympathetic.

A bonus was that she was a big fan of the band’s music, so I could talk to her about details without having to explain every little thing. Honestly, I was going to ask her if I could meet with her every day instead of every other day. Group therapy was okay, but I really preferred the one-on-one. She assured me there was a purpose to group therapy, and to give it a chance, so I was.

If I was honest, I still wasn’t a hundred percent sure what I was doing here or what I hoped to get out of it. Talking about feelings had never been my thing, but when she’d pointed out that could have had a role in what had ended my marriage, I’d spent a lot of time thinking about the past.

Had I been such a shitty husband that Harley had turned to Carter? Had my inability to open up inadvertently pushed her into his arms? The only person who could answer those questions was Harley, but it didn’t seem likely she would want to. I was considering calling her when I got home, though. Or maybe even inviting her up here to talk to me with Allisha playing moderator.

I didn’t know if that was possible but planned to ask at our next session.

Of course, Harley wouldn’t have to say yes, and why would she? She didn’t owe me anything, least of all an explanation. Well, maybe she did, but that was from my perspective. Hers could be totally different.

Staring out at the ocean, a cigarette dangling between my lips as I lounged on my balcony, it occurred to me she would love it here. She loved the ocean, and we’d talked about buying a house on the beach someday, but with the band’s travel schedule, it hadn’t seemed like a priority. Now I couldn’t help but wonder if that was one of many things I’d allowed to fall through the cracks.

Would a house on the ocean have made her happier?

In retrospect, I knew one thing that would have made her happy was a baby. Despite my sterility, she’d been open to adoption, but I’d shot it down every time she brought it up. The thought of raising someone else’s child had always rubbed me the wrong way, and I wasn’t sure why. That was something else I wanted to bring up with Allisha.

Apparently, I had a lot of baggage to unpack.

Two weeks—hell, two years—might not be enough time for all the shit floating around in my head.

I had to think about the band, though.

We needed to start rehearsing and doing promo for both the tour and the album. Our PR team was on some of that, but we needed to be involved. Radio station appearances, filming videos for social media, and of course, we were scheduled to do videos for the first two singles. Normally that was already done by this point in the process, but things were a little different this time around. Losing Carter had shown us that work—and money—wasn’t everything. We needed to take time for family, friends, and to simply be. We needed time to recharge and enjoy life instead of going from one project to the next.

Maybe that had been part of my failure as a husband as well.

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