I Swear That I Can Hear You In the Wind - A Sequel

Track Six.

"Lyla, you have got to tell me what the hell is going on," Vic groaned, seemingly irritated with the silence surrounding us. After I told him that we needed to talk, shuffled him towards the bus and into the back lounge, it seemed I had lost any ability to speak, and I was just standing there, leaning against the door frame, trying to muster up the courage to make words come out of my mouth. Vic reached out towards me from where he was seated out the couch, grabbing my hand and pulling me towards him. "You know you can tell me anything, baby. You know this. Whatever it is I just need you to tell me; you're starting to scare me."

I sat down next to him, my knee brushing against his, and I gnawed at my bottom lip as I attempted to keep the tears from leaving my eyes. I looked up at him, into his big, beautiful eyes, drawing in a deep breath, my fingers fidgeting with the hem of shirt.

"The other night," I finally spoke, my voice cracking as my words exited my throat, "Lilly-"

"Lilly, what?" He interjected nervously.

"She told me that she doesn't think that you love her." A tear rolled down my cheek and my eyes left Vic's, looking anywhere else, not wanting to see the brokenness that would no doubt take over them.

"She what?" His voice came out as a whisper, breaking the heavy silence that had settled upon us for what felt like hours. I finally regained the courage to look at him, and I watched as tears began their slow descent down his rosy cheeks.

I sighed deeply, more tears escaping my eyes as well.

"She came to me, wanting to know if you really loved her, because every time she asks you to stay you leave anyway."

A loud sob elicited from his mouth, his body crumpling before me as he buried his face in his hands. I had only seen my husband cry, really cry, one time before, in the early days of our marriage when we had hit a bit of a rough patch, and I felt like I was going to vomit as I watched him unravel before me.

"She thinks I don't love her?" I leaned forward and placed my head on top of his, enveloping him in my arms as I allowed myself to break down with him.

"I'm so sorry, Vic," I wailed. His body continued to shake with sobs, and it killed me to see my husband in so much pain.

"Why are you apologizing, Lyla?" He responded. "This is all my fucking fault; not yours. I'm the one who should be sorry. You and the kids deserve so much better than me."

"Victor," l said softly, pulling his head up so he was forced to look at me. His eyes were bloodshot, his face drained of color. "Please don't say that. She just, she doesn't understand. It's just-" I paused, unsure of what to say next. "It's just hard on us. It's hard not having you there."

"I'm gonna fix this," he muttered to himself under his breath, pushing himself up from the couch and making his way out into the bunk area quickly, as if he was on a mission. I watched as he began to pull suitcase after suitcase out from under the bunks, shoving things inside of them frantically.

"Vic, what're you doing?" I hollered.

He ignored me for a while, continuing on with what he had set his mind to.

"We're going home," he finally said sternly. "The tour is done."