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I swallow as I focus back on LL. “What the hell are we going to do about our tour? I don’t want to leave him in a hospital. I don’t think I could even get on stage if he’s . . . here like this.”

“One thing at a time,” he says, “and that’s a ways away. We’ll figure it all out.”

“Yeah?” I manage a grin. “You going to come out of retirement?”

“Fuck no,” he chuckles. “And I’m a drummer.”

“The best alive,” I add.

He cuffs my shoulder in goodbye. “Love you.”

“You, too,” I say as he leaves me in the room with LL, who’s only breathing right now, due to a machine.

Opening my messenger bag, I retrieve the toothpaste and brush, a clean T-shirt, and a travel-sized bar of Dad’s Irish Spring. I can’t help my grin at the sight of it and I head to LL’s pint-sized bathroom to shower. Tonight most definitely took a turn I wasn’t expecting. Distracted by the past four hours, it’s when I line my toothbrush that I realize I’ve propped my cell up against the sink out of old habit. Something I haven’t done in months. The difference is, on the other side, the screen remains dark. Gut-wrenching pain crashes into me as I replay every detail of the hours prior.

Shesigned.

Aching and raw, my thoughts stray back to where they have been the last year. I situate myself on the newly delivered bed that was set adjacent to LL’s, the quality far better than I had imagined it would be. Thankful for the comfort, I sit atop it and adjust the pillows before pulling my messenger bag into my lap.

Popping the Tylenol and downing the water Dad provided, I glance over to LL. According to the specialist, he’s nowhere close to out of the woods yet, his prognosis uncertain, but his comatose state says enough for now.

LL has been neglecting his disease in order to play rock star and keep up with the band and the lifestyle. He wants it so badly that he’s risked his life for it and holds a grudge against me for not stepping up. He’s been worn out the entire tour. Guilt sets in from the way I’ve categorized and dismissed him so easily. I’d pegged him as a functioning druggie of sorts. All the while, his body was betraying him. Even if his fucked-up behaviors warranted certain reactions from me, it was his envy to be in my shoes, with my opportunities and my advantages, that put us at odds. He wants what I have—my health, my career, my stage presence, and the love of a worthy woman.

Since my split with Natalie, I realize—to a degree, he’s right—I’ve been slowly imploding. As long as this goes on, the closer I get to becoming the musician I swore I wouldn’t be.

It ends now. Tonight.

I can’t let any more of my life slip through my fingers, no matter how bad my heart is aching. Broken I may be for the moment, I would do it all over again, just to feel what I did when I had that time to love her. As disastrously as it’s ending, I know without a doubt that I would do it all over again.

Running my hands through my hair, I dig for the bag of food Dad stashed, my hand hitting the edge of the manuscript that’s been sitting in it for months. Glancing back over at LL, I table the sub and flip to the plastic cover.

Drive

A memoir of a love story through music

by

Stella Emerson Crowne

As I flip through the first few preliminary pages, a small envelope addressed to my mother slides to the edge of the script and into my lap. Opening it, I immediately notice my dad’s handwriting.

Stella,

I’ve been sitting in this hotel for two days, waiting to marry you.

It’s irony at its finest. I’ve been waiting for you so long that sometimes my mind treks back to when we weren’t together. When I felt helpless, hopeless, and that life would never give me a chance, no matter how hard I fought back. You became that chance and losing you was agony.

The only thing that kept me going was the possibility that this day would come and the hope there would be no hesitation from either of us to claim what’s always been ours.

I missed you to the point my soul bled.

I missed you when I didn’t have to.

I miss you now.

I’m okay with how it fucking stings because it’s a reminder of how hard that part of my life was without you. The silver lining is that in a few hours, you’ll claim my name. Nothing has ever meant so much to me, and nothing will ever mean more.

This day is about us. But it’s still tainted with my regret.

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