treacherous | ethma

8

Ethan

"Ethan," Olivia said, shaking me awake. "Ethan. Wake up."

I covered my eyes as I opened them, wincing at the bright lights of the tour bus. That's right. I slept in the tour bus last night. I wanted to be alone, and this was the best I could get without paying money for a hotel room.

"What time is it?" I asked, sitting up.

I put the hood of my sweatshirt over my head. It was cold in the tour bus.

Olivia sat down across the couch from me. "It's almost noon."

"Is Emma okay?"

"She's fine for now."

I closed my eyes, leaning my head back against the couch. "Olivia, I don't know what to do. I want to help her, to fix everything so badly, but I'm so mad at her. She lied to me over and over again, and it was in our vows that she'd never keep anything from me, you know? I trusted her so much. She's supposed to be my person. We've known each other since birth. But she's not herself right now, and I have this feeling that she's too far gone. And now we're separating, and I don't know if our marriage is gonna survive it," I said, wiping a stray tear off of my cheek. Emma was everything to me, but I felt like she was throwing us away.

"Ethan—"

"Olivia, I love her so fucking much. She's been everything to me since I could even walk. She's always been mi Cara, mi Nina, mi bellissima. But my heart is hurting so much right now. I just feel like she's so far away. I've barely even recognized her lately. I knew something was off. I did. I just couldn't see the bigger picture. Like I was too naive to think she'd ever go back. I feel like a terrible husband."

"You're not a terrible husband, Ethan. I know for a fact that Emma loves you more than anything. She does. After you left last night, I went to her room and she cried until she fell asleep. She feels so bad. She knows she hurt you through this. But addiction is one of the worst demons anyone can face."

"How do I help her?"

"Give her time," Olivia said, standing up. She started walking towards the door of the bus, but I stopped her.

"Olivia?"

She turned around. "Yes?"

"Do you think there's hope? For me and Emma, I mean."

Olivia smiled. "I wouldn't doubt it for a second."

At least Olivia still believes in mine and Emma's marriage. I'm losing hope here.

"Thanks, Liv."

She nodded and gave me a half smile before she walked out of the tour bus. I had a lot of thinking to do.

We had a show that night, and I could tell that Emma was pissed at me. We didn't talk at all the whole day, and she was glaring at me during a couple of her songs.

It was breaking my god damn heart.

She knew she hurt me, but was I hurting her too? At the same time I felt like this was the only option that would help her stop using drugs. Maybe this was the push she needed to quit.

The tour continued, and I could tell that Emma was still doing cocaine. I couldn't believe that this was the same woman I married. She was Emma, but was she my Cara?

I missed her so much, and not just her. The real Emma. The same one who used to write songs with me in my basement when we were younger. The same Emma I've been in love with since I could even speak.

The Emma who taught me how to play the fucking guitar.

I wouldn't have a career if it weren't for her. She taught me so much, and we've learned so much together throughout our lives.

For the last few weeks of the tour, I spent my nights sleeping on the couch in the penthouse suites we rented.

Emma and I still weren't talking that much.

We went home to LA, and I slept in the guest room. Emma spent a lot of time on the piano, and I spent most of my time at the studio, producing music for my clients, and picking at my guitar.

I have never felt this far away from Emma. Ever.

Not even when she moved to LA and left me back home in Connecticut. I couldn't tell if this was a long break, or if this really was the end of us.

I didn't even want to think about divorce, but what if that was the only way to get her sobered up? What if she needed to see me walk away for her to realize that I wasn't kidding about her making a choice between me and the drugs?

I still didn't know what to fucking do.

I spent a lot of time in the studio and in my office at Signature Records, and I spent a lot of time lying awake in the guest room, glancing at the empty spot next to me and wishing everything could somehow make its way back to being okay.

I spent some time cooking, always leaving an extra plate in the fridge for Emma.

I spent some time hanging out with my brother, and I spent some time writing some music.

I could tell that Olivia was still rooting for us, even if Emma and I weren't exactly reciprocating the same enthusiasm about it. I just wanted Emma back. My Emma. The Emma I married.

The Emma that my parents talked about being my wife since we were babies.

It's crazy how fast your life can change. It's crazy to think about what you don't see, or the pieces of the puzzle you don't put together until the finished picture sits in front of you. You don't know how it got there, or who the hell finished the puzzle, but it's a miracle.

I still remember that day in early September when our dog Chip came up to me, barking non-stop. This wasn't like him. He was a very calm dog. This could only mean that something was wrong. Very wrong.

He led me upstairs and to Emma's bathroom where she was unconscious in the shower.

Chip saved Emma's fucking life that day.