Page 74 of See Her

Jack

How the fuckam I having marital problems only two months in?

Oh yeah, because my band got famous almost literally overnight, thrusting all of us and my wife into stardom. My every move is being watched and scrutinized, my schedule is demanding as fuck, and I’m thousands of miles away from my wife who I’m pretty sure thinks I’m cheating on her right now.

It’s late afternoon, and we’ve just finished the worst sound check of the tour. Everything was working fine, but every minute was painful. Every minute that goes by that I’m not talking to Mayzie pulls me down a little further.I kept my phone on me all through the check, and I yank it out of my back pocket now to find no notifications. I swear I can feel it laughing at me.Shut up, asshole. I make my way straight back to the bus, and I’m relieved to find it empty.

I spend the next I’m not sure how long alternating between picking at my guitar and fiddling with Mayzie’s hair tie around my wrist, trying not to glance at my phone every thirty seconds. I don’t know what’s killing me more – how much I’m hurting, or how worried I am thatsheis.

What’s going on in that pretty mind, pretty mind?

I need your voice, ‘cause I’m blind

Locked in the dark

With a desperate heart

It beats and bleeds for you

Only you

Come let me out

And I will rid you of doubt

The impromptu lyrics seem to make Mayzie’s face materialize before me, and I drop my head back while I continue to strum out more notes. While I like to imagine her coming to me, touching me, and letting me know we’re okay, it only seems to torture me more.

Abruptly, I set my guitar down and don’t pick it up again until it’s time to stroll out onto the stage while tens of thousands of fans go wild. Matt makes pleasantries with the crowd while I busy myself giving my guitar a last tune, almost afraid to look up at the mass of exhilarated waving arms and screams. It almost makes me feel like they’re here in place of Mayzie. I’d make them all disappear to just have her here again.

And then, like every night since she left, I remind myself how important it is to her that I give this my best shot. I play and sing my heart out, shredding the shit out of my performance. Every ounce of pain and misery I’m feeling; the confusion and uncertainty. I let it all out into every word and chord, hoping somehow across the miles, it will reach her.

36

MAYZIE

Iopen my eyes after a night of restless… well, I don’t know if you could call that sleep. It was more like lying in bed in the dark, torturing myself with thoughts of what Jack is doing all those miles away while I drift in and out of consciousness. I’ve oscillated between worrying myself to death to convincing myself there’s nothing to worry about at all, so much so I’ve given myself mental whiplash.

I think I’ve felt every feeling there is to feel in this scenario, and had every thought there is to think. I’m weak, exhausted, and completely depleted.

I’m ready.

I reach over to my side table and retrieve my phone that I’ve had turned off for twenty-four hours now. Whatever it is I’m about to find out, I’m ready to hear it; to deal with it.

As my phone comes to life, my heart rate quickens, missing a few beats in the process. I feel it thump erratically at the base of my throat now as I unlock the device and watch as several notifications blink rapidly across the screen.

Thirteen messages.

My breath is ragged from the nerves rattling through my chestwall as I click on my voicemail app and bring the phone to my ear, clutching my covers close for support.

Each one of Jack’s messages is like a layer of balm to my tortured heart, soothing it; healing it.

“You are the most important thing in the world to me.”

“I love you so much, and I want you back here with me more than anything.”

“Sweetheart, please call me, I need to talk to you.”

But as I get further to the end of my mailbox, the words start to bring on new feelings of ache and regret.

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