Page 50 of Resilient Rhythms
“Claire Merrick,” I mutter, recalling the blonde spitfire. Then, I chuckle. “You know she married one of the Boston Hawks? She’s Claire Scotch now.”
“Yeah,” Jameson murmurs. “Aiden went to the wedding.”
“That’s right,” I say, my mind traveling to the past. I forget how connected Aiden is to this city considering he’s not from here. But his childhood best friend, Indiana Merrick, is cousins with Claire. Sometimes, it really is a small fucking world.
“Shit was going sideways and we had to get on stage. I tossed my phone to one of the stagehands who put it down somewhere and forgot all about it. We went out on that stage and…” He trails off, a smirk crossing his face. “You remember the feeling? That first real high? The vibing with the crowd?”
“It felt like a fucking homecoming I never knew I was missing.”
“Paradise,” Jameson agrees.
“Our life changed that night.”
“It did,” he says, his smile slipping. “In more ways than one. The band got our first big break, the first step closer to success. But Amelia lost the baby. By the time I got in touch with her, she was in the hospital. She was so fucking pale, Mav. Distraught. Her mom never showed up. Instead, Jill was there.”
“Jill’s a fucking saint,” I say, thinking about Amelia’s sister-in-law. She’s the only person connected to Amelia’s family that I like and she married in.
“She is.” Jameson nods. “But Amelia never got over the loss of our baby. Or of what could have been. It’s like that night she looked at me and saw a completely different version of the life we were planning. Up until that point, when we would talk, the band would make it big, we would get married, and we would have a house full of babies. I would teach them to play guitar and she would bake cookies and paint with them. And we were always happy and in love.” He scoffs, a bitter laugh. “But that night she looked at me…and it was like she knew the band was going to make it big. But instead of our happily-ever-after, she saw the long nights, the weeks on the road, and the loneliness that was coming for her. She became acutely aware of how there would be times that I wouldn’t be present, that she wouldn’t have support, that it would just be her. And she never forgave me for not being there when she started bleeding. She never forgave me for the loss of the baby. She spiraled after that. It was bad. It was hell.”
I work a swallow, feeling more sympathetic toward Amelia than I imagined possible.
“Depression. Anxiety. Suicidal ideation. She ended up hospitalized a few times. The first time she cheated on me, she told me. She sounded so disconnected, completely disassociated from her actions. I stormed out, furious. And the next call I get is from the hospital. She had cut her wrist and stuck a morphine patch inside.”
“Fuckkkkk.” I close my eyes, hating myself for all the times I bitched about Amelia. I had no idea she was hurting. Self-destructing.
“I couldn’t leave her. Not even when I wanted to. I still love her, Mav. I haven’t been in love with her for years, but…what we shared, all those years, that loss, I’ll never not care about Amelia.”
“Yeah,” I say quietly. “I get that.”
“This time is for good. She’s moved on and honestly? I’m fucking happy for her. I’ve wanted this for her for so damn long. I always knew it had to be her to make the choice, to end our relationship. The last time she did this, I started to move on. I…”
“Marisa Mella,” I refer to the woman Jameson started dating.
He nods and sips his beer. “I thought I was free. But then, I got the call. She swallowed a bottle of pills…”
“Jameson. Why didn’t you say anything?”
“She begged me not to,” he says miserably. “And I didn’t want to betray her trust. For as much as she hated me at times, she trusted me. And Maverick, she didn’t have anyone else.” He rolls the beer bottle between his hands. “I fucked shit up too. I could be mean, callous, toward her. I wasn’t a saint. Our shit was toxic and deep down, we both knew it. But it wasourtoxic and we knew that too. It’s a hard cycle to break.”
“Is that why you seem torn up over this breakup? After everything you said, I thought you’d be elated that she’s moved on?”
He chuckles humorlessly. “Yeah, me too. But it’s hard to trust that, you know? I started to let myself believe in a different future, a different outcome, with Marisa. And when Amelia needed me… What if it isn’t over?”
“Do you want it to be?”
He nods.
“Then it is,” I say resolutely. “And if Amelia needs you, you can always be there for her. You can always be her friend. But you can’t keep doing her bidding at the detriment of yourself, Jameson. This brand of toxic isn’t serving either one of you anymore. You’re not in high school now; you guys are grown-ups.”
“Yeah.”
“You tell me. You tell the band. And we help you. We help you help her, too. You don’t have to give up on Amelia, you have tomove on from the idea of you being her go-to person if you don’t want the role anymore.”
“I just want her to be happy, Mav. Fucking whole.”
“I get that, Jameson. I want the same thing for you.”
He snorts. “Yeah.”
