Crescendo

Chapter 33

I sat on the couch, staring at the ceiling with tears welling in my eyes.

Jay left, and my mind drifted into the past, our past. Memories I buried resurfaced, and a wave of grief washed over me, racking my body just as it did in those days leading up to my mother's death.

And for the first time in a long time, I sobbed, holding my head in my hands, wondering how I had let myself get hurt again. My skin itched, craving something I no longer relied on to survive, but there I was, wondering how long it would take me to drive to the liquor store and back. I'm better now. I could handle it.

The lie carried me off the couch and to the hall. My footsteps were light, as if I were floating toward my demise. I had my hands on my keys, ready to walk out the door, when there was a knock, startling me.

Not Jay, I prayed. Please don't be Jay. I opened the door, not caring who it was as long as it wasn't the man I least wanted to see. And to my surprise, it wasn't Jay's eyes that met mine, but Daniel's. His mouth opened as if to say my name, but when he saw my face, how sadness pooled in the corners of my eyes, his expression shifted.

"Are you okay?" he asked, concern riddled across his face.

I sniffled, shutting my eyes and shaking my head. He shouldn't worry about me.

"I'm fine," I said quickly, too quickly, and my voice shook. I had become all too good at saying everything was okay when it wasn't.

Daniel reached forward and touched my arm. "I don't think that's true. Can I come in? Or were you heading out? I can go with you," he said.

I looked past him into the hallway and remembered where I was heading.

"No," I said, shaking my head. "I thought I forgot something in my car, but it's in here."

Daniel's eyes narrowed, but he didn't press. Instead, I stepped aside, allowing him inside my condo. And then, once the door shut, the questions began.

"Where's Jay?" he asked.

"He left," I answered truthfully, my heart aching, remembering the first day he walked out the door of my old apartment, several streets away. He broke my heart then, and he broke my heart now. Maybe nothing really changes.

"That was a quick visit," Daniel said, stating the obvious.

"Yeah." I reached behind my head, rubbing my neck, as some sort of failed self-support, but my voice quivered. "He..." It was getting harder to speak. "He just came to say..." My words got lost on the way out of my mouth, and Daniel stepped forward.

"Hey," he said, putting his hand on my cheek and interrupting my thoughts. "You don't seem all right. Did he hurt you?"

"No, I... he didn't," I said, tucking my hands in my jacket so he couldn't see them shake. "Not like that, at least."

"Like what then?" Daniel asked, his voice lowering. "I swear to God if he touched..."

I laughed. "Men are so-" I stopped myself before I could say something I'd regret. "He didn't. I'm fine. I just-"

Daniel cut me off, not allowing me to lie again. "You're not fine. Anybody with eyes could see that you're not okay. Tell me what happened." He paused and then said, "Please."

I bit the inside of my cheek, trying to find the right way to explain. "You know, my friend, Mia?" Daniel nodded as if scared that speaking would spook me from telling him. I continued, "The other day she called me..."

***

Daniel and I sat on the floor of my bedroom, sharing handfuls of Cinnamon Toast Crunch. We had been like that for an hour, sitting by the bed, me crying, and Daniel holding me. I told him the whole thing. How Jay cheated on me after years of being together, days after losing my mom. How Mia, my best friend, my oldest friend in the entire world, had kept the truth from me.

For most of it, he sat quietly, just listening, stroking my hair, and telling me it was going to be okay. I lay my head on his shoulder as his fingers intertwined with mine.

"I know what it's like, you know," he said finally, breaking his silence.

"What?" I asked, my eyes heavy, stinging still from the tears. I had been crying for what felt like ages, and although I knew it would pass—the sadness—my heart weighed inside of me, feeling like nothing would ever get better.

Daniel sighed, his fingers tracing the lines on my palm, absentmindedly moving against them. "Do you remember reading about my accident?"

The news of Daniel's brush with death was all over the news. He was hit by a car, broken bones, badly bruised, and unlikely to ever play music again, but he defeated the odds. "Yeah, I remember," I said. My mother and I spent some of her last nights tracking his comeback.

Daniel nodded, shifting beside me. "It wasn't an accident." His voice stopped, and I continued staring at the wall.

"What was it then?" I asked, the gravity of his confession sinking in, but unwilling to accept the truth.

"I stepped into the street," he said before sighing. "I wasn't myself."

"You did it on purpose?" I asked, a new grief slamming into me.

"Yes," he said. "But I didn't wanna die. I just wanted it to stop."

"The tours?" I asked, pressing for more information when I should have just shut up.

He shook his head. "When my mom..." his voice trailed off, "when she was no longer around, my dad... changed. He forced me to practice every day, several times a day, and even when I was supposed to rest, it was scheduled, never my own decision." He ran his hand over his face as if the memory brought back the pressure. "And it was like he was obsessed with keeping her here. And I don't even remember the moment that I decided to..." His fingers curved into my forearm.

"You don't have to tell me."

"I want you to know," he said, and then continued. "I was with Stella, at first. Then she left, and I just sat at the bar, this club across town that never carded us, thinking about how mad Dad would be when I got home. I wasn't supposed to be out so late. I was flying out early in the morning to avoid the crowds. And then, I felt nervous, and I went to the parking lot. Before I could stop myself, I started walking toward the headlights, the flashing cars, the oncoming traffic. And then I just stood there, in the middle of the street. One car swerved. By the time the second car saw me, it was too late. I tried to move. I realized how stupid I was being. I mean really. I wasn't fast enough. If they hadn't been driving so far under the speed limit, I... well, I wouldn't be here."

I wrapped my hand in his, trying to think of something to say, but there was nothing, except "I'm sorry."

Daniel cleared his throat. "It gets better," he said, turning to face me, and our eyes met. "I think if anything, I'm allowed to say that now, because if I hadn't been batshit crazy and stood in front of moving traffic, I wouldn't have broken nearly all the bones in my body, and I wouldn't have been forced to teach, and I wouldn't have met you. And it's one of the best things that ever happened to me."

My heart, once heavy, fluttered. "Really?" I asked.

"It's probably not the best time to say that," he said, cradling my face in his hand. "But I thought you should know." My lips curled as I settled against him, resting at his side.

Silence settled over us, only this time, it was warm, covering my body with a comfort I had only found in a bottle. But then Daniel spoke again. "Where were you going when I got here?"

"Nowhere," I lied.

"You can tell me."

I sighed. "I thought about..." My hands were on the keys. I was heading to the door. He had been honest with me, so I forced the words out. "Going to the liquor store."

I expected him to yell at me, or at the very least tell me how stupid I was for considering it, but instead, he wrapped his arm around me and pulled me close, letting the heat radiate between us.