Page 92 of Whiskey Lullaby
“Hannah, comeon.”
I took a breath, narrowing my eyes on him. “Why now? Why not a week later, a monthlater?”
His jaw clenched. “You blocked me. Cut me out. What was I supposed to do? I did what I thought you wanted and left youalone.”
I dropped my chin to my chest. It was such a shame that we let our own insecurities tear us apart. But I knew how much losing him hurt, and he was no longer that bad boy from the wrong side of town. He was famous. If we couldn’t make things work when life was as simple as Rockford, how on earth could we make them work now? Only a fool would set themselves up for that kind of heartache twice. “It doesn’t matter.” I swiped my key from the ground and shoved it in thelock.
“The hell it doesn’t!” His voice echoed through the apartment breezeway. “I fucking love you, I’ve been in love with you since the first time I kissed you, so say what you want, but don’t you say it doesn’tmatter!”
My breath caught, but all I could do was stare at the gold apartment number on my door. Common sense told me giving into him would be a disaster, maybe he was the right person, but this truly was the wrong time. But my heart—God, my heart was racing, pleading for me to not let him go as I reached for the doorknob. “I loved you too,” I whispered. I’d imagined telling Noah I loved him for so long, wondered how it may have changed things, and yet, that felt like a dagger right through the middle of mychest.
“Loved?” he laughed, not an arrogant laugh, but one full of vulnerability. “Fine, then why did you movehere?”
I froze at thedoor.
“Why did you move here?” he repeated before stepping up behind me. His warm breath fanned over my neck and I closed my eyes, remembering what he felt like. Goosebumps scattered over my arms. “Because it was as far away as you could get? Well, you know what? This wasmyescape. This wasmyplace to run to, so why on earth would you run here if you were running away fromme?”
I clenched my teeth. No matter how much whatever it was between us hurt, there was still a peace I could only find in those moments. “I don’tknow.”
He stood there breathing, and I stood staring at the ground. After a few seconds of silence, he stepped beside me. Dragging a hand down his face, he reached into his back pocket and brought out an envelope, handing it to me. “Here.”
I grabbed it from him, my brow wrinkling in confusion when my eyes landed on the cursive handwriting. “Where didyou…”
“There was an entire packet waiting for me when I got home after the first half of the tour.” He shrugged and stepped across the walkway, leaning against the wall and propping one foot on thebrick.
My chest tightened. “What?”
“I’d been gone for months. Months, I guess… I don’t know.” He sighed. “Look, I didn’t fly twenty hours to just say ‘hey’ and be on my way, so you take as much time as you need.” He pushed off the building. “I’m gonna go right over there and sit.” He pointed across the street at the beach. “Do whatever you need, think whatever you need to think through, but I’m not leaving.” Shaking his head, he walked down the breezeway and across theyard.
What am I doing?There are some moments in life that seem so surreal, that are so high on emotion, there is no logical reaction. Your head and heart war with each other, tearing you to shreds on the inside. You should. You shouldn’t. It’s so right, but what if it’s wrong? This topsy-turvy cycle of excitement and doubt, constantly swirling with fear. An unsteady anticipation formed in my chest and I wasn’t sure if I wanted to scream or cry. Over the past year, I’d painted him to be some guy I wasn’t so sure he was. I told myself he was a liar. I made myself believe that everything he said, every moment we shared wasn’t sincere. I allowed him to be the bad boy everyone swore he was, but, until he walked away I never believed he was. I’d turned him into the villain I needed him to be so I could go on with my life, to convince myself I hadn’t lost athing.
But, I had. I’d lost somuch.
I glanced back at the envelope in my hand, at my mother’s very distinct handwriting before pushing the door to my apartment open.How had he ended up with this?I didn’t even close the door before I slipped my finger underneath the edge of the flap and tore it open, unfolding the familiar stationery with pink and purple roses along thetop.
My hand shook as I read over the first fewlines:
My Dear Sweet Hannah,
I may not be able to hold you any longer, but I do believe that my soul will always follow you. I hope you feel that. And I hope you can forgive me for leaving you, I didn’t want to, but some things are beyond ourcontrol.
Death andlove...
You’ve turned into such a wonderful, strong woman. I’m proud of you. Always know that you made me so proud, Hannah. Sweet and caring, loving. You were my reason for this life, I know that more than anything, and I can only hope that the life you lead once I’m gone will be everything youdeserve.
We have one life, my dear. One. However short or long, that isn’t our choice, but the person we spend it with, that is our choice to make. And that is why I sent Noah yourletters.
I hope you can forgive me, but you thought he didn’t fight for you. You can’t expect someone to fight for something they never knew was theirs to begin with. You loved him, that was evident to me, and the way he loved you—Hannah, listen to his songs. The poor boy sings those songs about loving you every single night. You told me it hurt too much to write those letters, imagine the pain he endures just to sing those songs to you. I’m convinced that’s why he sings them, hoping you’lllisten.
Love doesn’t have to make sense to work, it only needs to exist. And the most beautiful of flowers bloom in the most unlikely ofplaces.
I love you, my dear, sweet Hannah, and I’ll miss you. Please, when you remember me, smile, I had a wonderful life, and maybe that’s why God took me sooner than we’d have liked, he knew I was alreadycontent.
You’ll forever be in myheart.
I loveyou,
Mother
