Tension grows stronger, bigger, tighter until I have no choice but to let go.
I milk him, squeezing for dear life and digging my nails into his back so hard he grunts a string of curses.
I open my eyes in time to watch pleasure move across his face. His groan is guttural and his lips crash against mine as hot liquid floods me.
We kiss until our lips are swollen. Until we run out of air.
Phoenix was right. There was a whole lot of begging, but none of it was from him.
Because somehow, he knew exactly what I needed tonight, and he gave it to me.
“I love you,” he whispers against my lips.
My heart flutters like the wings of a hummingbird and I smile, a rush of emotion jamming my chest. “I love you, too.”
So much.
But the moment he slips out of me, the empty void—the grief ensnaring me—is back.
After Phoenix is fast asleep, I curl up into a ball and let the tears fall.
Because I know it will never go away.
CHAPTER 81
PHOENIX
Yesterday was rough.
Lennon stayed in bed and spent most of the day crying in my arms.
She’s scared the pain will never go away, and I gave her the cold, hard truth.
It won’t. Because she’s always going to miss her dad.
But it won’t always feel so raw like it does now. She just needs to give herself permission to start the healing process.
Fortunately, I think I figured out something that might help with that.
I’m pondering whether I should bring it up today when I look over on her side of the bed…and notice she’s not in it.
“Lennon?”
I don’t get a response.
Fearing the worst, I search through all the rooms before heading downstairs.
The muscles in my chest draw tight with relief—and surprise—when I find her in the kitchen, sipping coffee while pouring some cereal into a bowl.
I kiss the top of her head on my way to the fridge. “Hey.”
She gives me a small smile. “Hey.”
She ambles toward the kitchen table, but then she turns around, heading for the living room instead.
I want to get rid of that fucking table because I know every time Lennon sees it, she can’t help but think about her father.
However, she hasn’t reached that stage yet.
But she has an appetite again, and she’s eating, so it’s progress.
After fixing my own bowl of cereal, I join her on the couch in the living room.
I can tell she’s lost in her thoughts because her brows are pulled together and there’s a frown marring her face.
“What’s going on in that head of yours?”
She chews and swallows carefully before she speaks. “What if I forget his voice?”
“You won’t.” When she starts to protest, I say, “We live in the digital age. There are voice mails and videos. All that can be preserved, and you’ll be able to listen to it whenever you want.”
She visibly relaxes…and then she pales. “What if I get dementia like my dad and I forget him?”
After placing my bowl on the coffee table, I brush my thumb over her heart. “He’ll always be in there.”
She takes another bite of her cereal. “I hate not having him around.”
“I know.”
But it will get easier.
Pulling her into my arms, I kiss her temple. “Do you trust me?”
Confusion clouds her eyes as she tilts her head to look at me. “Yes.” She gives me a look. “Why?”
Because I know what’s gonna get her through this.
Rising to my feet, I take her hand. “Come with me.”
Despite the dubious expression on her face, she follows me up the stairs.
However, when we reach the door to her dad’s bedroom, she shakes her head and plants her feet. “I can’t go in there.”
Lennon hates when I push her, and I get it. I feel the same way when she pushes me. It pisses me the fuck off and my first instinct is to shut down.
But we push each other because we get each other…more than anyone else ever could.
Music is therapy for Lennon, but she shoved it in a box and won’t let herself open it.
She doesn’t let herself create…but it’s who she is.
It’s what makes her whole.
I took it from her, but I’ll do anything to give it back.
Including giving up music myself. Because I can’t be whole until Lennon is again.
When she breaks…I break.
Even when I’m the one responsible for it.
Twisting the knob, I open the door. “Trust me.”
People don’t love her song because I sang it. They love it because they feel it.
Because they identify with her pain.
Because she poured every single ounce of it into her art.
Because her words—her music—her creation saved them.
It’s time for it to save her again.
Her eyes flick to the piano, and those baby browns widen when she spots it.
While Lennon was sleeping yesterday, I went through her closet and found her old journal discarded in some box all the way in the back.
“I didn’t read it.”
I was fucking dying to, though. But I didn’t. Not because I can’t, but because it’s hers. She gets to decide who she shares her art with. Not me.
Turning, I cup her cheek. “I know you got your stubbornness from your dad, but you also got your strength from him.”
She visibly swallows. “I don’t feel all that strong lately.”
She is, though. She’s the strongest person I know.
“I bet your dad didn’t feel strong after your mom died, either.” I gesture to the piano. “But he still created.”
I can tell she wants to protest, but I’m not finished yet. “I know it’s easier to walk out that door. I know it’s easier to push me and everyone else away because it fucking hurts. I know it’s easier to give in to the grief and let it take over.”
Just like I did with my guilt.
I draw in a slow breath and let it out. “But someone way smarter than I am once told me that my mistakes didn’t define who I was…it’s what I do after that did.” I tip her chin. “Don’t let your grief define you, Lennon. Don’t let his death be the end of him, because the greatest thing he ever did is still here. And he wouldn’t want her spending the rest of her life mourning him. He’d want her to live.”
A tear falls down her cheek and her gaze drifts to the piano again.
I see the longing in her eyes. Only unlike me, it’s not so she can become a vessel for the magic.
It’s so she can make it.
“It’s been years since I’ve done any of that. I don’t think I can anymore.”
She’s wrong.
She doesn’t know it, but I listened to her and her dad talk that day…for a little while.
It wasn’t my intention to eavesdrop, but when he made her sing her song, I found myself rushing back up the stairs and pressing my ear to the door so I could listen.
However, there was something he said shortly after that I’ll never forget. Something Lennon needed to hear.
“Don’t let your insecurities overpower that which makes your soul come alive. Otherwise, you’ll walk this earth never feeling whole…and that’s no way to live.”