Page 83 of Whiskey Lullaby
“I do.” Her tongue trailed over my throat, and a group of guys standing in front of me stepped away, revealing Hannah watching from across the yard. Our eyes locked. Another set of fireworks exploded, the red color dancing over her face. Her nostrils flared, and she rolled hereyes.
“Alright, alright,” I said, shrugging out of the girl’s hold. I took a few steps, stumbling as I fought to maintain my balance. For a second, I thought I should go after Hannah. Grab her hand and spin her around. Kiss her. Hell, maybe tell her that I hadn’t washed the pillow she slept on because it still smelled likeher.
But I didn’t. I just stared at her until she turned away and headed toward one of thehouses.
I told Hannah when we first met that she would end up hating me, and by the look she’d just given me, I was pretty sure shedid.
38
Noah
Fall 2016
Ipopped another beer and turned thepage:
I blocked you on Facebook the day after the 4thof July party. The day that you left for Nashville, because I didn’t need the temptation. It was too easy to click on your page and look at your pictures. But It didn’t matter that I blocked you, you were everywhere. Leave it to me to pick the guy from small town USA that would skyrocket to fame. God, I saw you onGood Morning, America and Ellen.Then there were the tabloids at the checkout lines. Anytime there was a picture of you with a supposed fling, my skin heated. I couldn’t help but picture you kissing some other girl, fisting her hair, telling them how good shefelt.
I hated being thatgirl.
She was never that girl. Hell, I had only fucked a girl once after her, and even then, all I could think about was Hannah, so what was the point? Having meaningless sex had lost itsluster.
Every song, Noah. Every single song seemed like you wrote it about us. Then again, they could have been written for any girl from Rockford, couldn’t they? I’m sure you took tons of girls out to that pasture, out to the airport. I’m sure plenty of them fell asleep in the bed of your truck. Maybe you climbed every girl’s tree, but one—one song I know is mine because you wrote it for me.Unless that was a lietoo.
What had I lied to her about? I didn’t lie about a damn thing. Not one goddamn thing. I took another gulp before going back to theletter.
The first time I heard that song on the radio, I wasn’t prepared. Oh, it sent a flood of memories raging through me, churning up emotions I tried so hard to keep locked safely away. I remembered the way you smelled, how warm your skin felt against mine. It was like fifty lashings straight to my heart all while making me feel ashamed. Ashamed that I gave in to all the pretty lies you told me with your kisses. That I believed the way you touched me held any meaning. I’m not sure what bothered me more: that you fooled me, or that I fooledmyself.
Do you know how hard it has been to just get over you when I couldn’t even get away from you? I mean, I cut you out of my life... and every time I see your face, I question whether I did the right thing by never telling you. I feel that twinge of self-doubt, of stupidity for falling so easily for you even though you warned me I would hate you. You knew, didn’t you, Noah? You could tell that I was more into you than you could ever be into me. But you just couldn’t tell me that because you needed the affection. I can’t blame you. You’d felt abandoned most of your life, so as much as I want to, I can’t fault you for letting me love you. I made you feel good. You made me feelsafe.
I remember thinking all I wanted to do was prove to you that you were enough—I would have loved you had you let me, but I wasn’t enough, and you proved that when you didn’t even fight forme.
Jesus Christ! She was more than enough, and I would have let her love me had I just fuckingknown.
I guess maybe I should thank you because you took the worst part of my life and made it bearable. You promised we’d get throughit.
I got through it. When she passed, even though you weren’t there, I found comfort in your voice on the radio. I went to sleep listening to my song because it reminded me of how it felt. And at that point, I just needed somethingfamiliar.
I placed the letter down and sat back in the chair, the wooden legs groaning. I gulped down what was left of the beer and grabbed another bottle, pacing a few times before sitting back down and snatching up the letteragain.
You told me youcaredforme.
But Ilovedyou, that’s why I told you it wasn’t enough, Noah. I needed you to love me, not look at me like a dear friend. You told me you couldn’t lose me, and yet, you just walkedoff.
Daddy asked me to stay away from you, but I didn’t. I loved you too much to have someone tell me what to do. Months after you left, he confessed that he told you to leave me alone, and while that should make it better. It doesn’t, because you didn’t fight for me, you didn’t even argue, and that’s when I realized it was a one-sided loveaffair.
We never said goodbye, and it’s hard to let go of someone when there was never any closure. I’ve had many nights lost to the thought of what may have happened had I told you. I’ve woken up one too many times with the taste of your lips heavy on my mind. I want you to know how much you affected me, and I pray that writing this letter will allow me to walk away—to let go of those memories, and the hurt and anger that fires through me when I hear yourname.
You made me believe you were something you weren’t and loving a ghost for this long has nearly ruinedme.
Hannah
Frowning, I downed the beer while I stared at the words on the page. I loved that girl. Hell, she just said every song I wrote was about her—how could she believe she meant nothing? You don’t write songs about someone that didn’t fucking matter toyou.
An envelope was clipped to the back of the letter, but I didn’t look at it. I’d had enough for the night, so I slammed the letters on the table, grabbed my beer, and I staggered up the stairs to the second floor, past five bedrooms that will never be used, and to the master suite. I tipped my beer back, then placed it on the marble-topped nightstand that cost four grand before I sank underneath the covers of my king-size bed and stared at the ceiling wishing I was back in my shit house in that little town with her asleep on mychest.
But I’m not. I’malone.
______
