Walking up the stairs, I step into my music room, all the accolades of my career shining brightly. My breathing accelerates. All I want to do is destroy it all, turn it to rubble. These trophies and awards have never mirrored what’s on the inside. It should be the ashes of hell. As dark as I am—dead.
I love you, Ryder.
Kailey’s words echo in my head, and they’re louder and clearer than any ghosts of my past. I look down at my hand, still gripping my phone. I dial Kailey, but she doesn’t pick up. I’m more stubborn than she is and know if I keep trying, eventually she will answer. I’ll wear her down. I have to.
She loves me.
She said the words.
And she just didn’t say them in some frivolous, meaningless way. They just didn’t slip out. She looked me right in the eyes. She meant them. I know she meant them.
What the fuck is wrong with me? I should’ve wrapped her in my arms and never let her go. I should’ve told her so many things. I rush downstairs, continuing to try to call her.
I never thought this would happen to me—this feeling—love.
I don’t deserve to have it, yet here it is. She loves me. I guess I knew that. Why else would she put up with my shit?
Standing in the den, my eyes land on the picture of our first kiss. Both of us wet, her in my arms, it was the happiest I’d felt in a long time. I may not deserve love, but she does. She took a chance on me. She puts up with so much shit being with me. But for how much longer? She deserves more than the fucked-up love I can give her.
But she needs to know.
Words matter. I’m a songwriter. I should know. The right words can change everything—for better or for the worse – but not saying anything? That’s for fucking cowards.
I love her. Even though I haven’t said it, it hasn’t stopped it from happening. I haven’t managed not to love her, that would be impossible. All I’ve managed to do is keep my love for her locked away—hurting her. That’s not entirely true. I have tried to show her how I feel about her, hoping actions spoke louder than words, but I failed.
I can’t let her think for one more second that I don’t love her, that I don’t love our baby. It’s obvious the words are important to her. She needs to hear them from me.
Taking a deep breath, I whisper, “I love you, Kailey.”
That word hasn’t crossed my lips since I was a teenager. My body still, I wait—like I’m waiting for the world to end. That word destroyed so many lives before, but now there’s only silence—only the steady rhythm of my heart in my chest.
I look at the windows to the ocean. Julia! I promised her I’d never say those words again. “I hope you understand,” I pray softly. “I hope you forgive me.”
I’m not sure what I thought would happen if I ever said those words again. The sky to fall? My world to combust? I don’t know. It seems silly now to be afraid of three little words. But it was long overdue.
“I love you, Kailey,” I say again, this time with a grin.
And I can’t wait to tell her. I dial again. Please pick up the damn phone!
“Stupid Bluetooth,” I hear her say.
“Kailey, please don’t hang up!” I say.
“I didn’t mean to answer,” she says. “Damn technology.”
“Where are you?”
“It’s not important,” she says through tears.
“I can barely understand what you are saying,” I say, hearing background noise over the Bluetooth. “Please pull over.”
“No.”
“Come back home,” I say.
“I can’t,” she cries. “Stop following me!”
“What?”
“Reporters are following me.”
My gut clenches. She’s never driven with the paparazzi on her tail. Now isn’t the time for baptism by fire. I hate that she’s out there all alone because of me.
“Kailey, you need to turn around and come back.”
“You broke my heart,” she says. “There’s no coming back.”
“Kailey, we can work this out. I have reasons for . . .”
“You have excuses,” she says.
“I’m sorry. We need to talk.”
“No,” she cries. “It’s too late. I’m so stupid. Why did I ever find you?”
She’s sobbing so hard now, I can barely understand her. “Kailey?”
“You don’t love me. The father of my baby doesn’t love me,” she whimpers, like she’s in actual physical pain. And I guess she is—her heart broken.
“But I do . . .”
Tires screech.
She screams.
My bones rattle.
A loud crash.
I yell her name.
The line goes dead.
My head spins.
“Kailey,” I say softly, but know she won’t answer.
She’s gone.
It happens that quick.
Life.
Death.
Love.
Loss.
Seconds, really. That’s all it takes to lose everything.
My old ghosts come calling: You whispered the words. You did this.
My hands shaking, I dial again. “Kailey,” I mumble.
A robot tells me the phone is out of service.
She’s fine, she’s fine, I try to convince myself.
The sound of tires screeching, glass breaking flash through my head. Those last few seconds burn themselves onto my soul, like it’s branding my flesh.
Is this really happening?
No, it wasn’t her.
I didn’t just hear her crash.
There’s some other explanation.
Her scream rings in my head. No, no, no!
She couldn’t have been far from the house. I grab my keys and phone, running to my car. I don’t know where I’m going—where to even start looking. I simply know I have to find her. Should I call the police? Would I just sound crazy? Pacing the car, I dial Maggie, quickly telling her what happened, what I thought I heard, telling her to call the police.
A decal in the corner of the driver’s side window of my car catches my eye. I’d forgotten the car comes with a tracker system. It’s supposed to be for burglary, but it will work for this, too. Hanging up with Maggie, a wave of heat flashes over my body, and my heart pounds hard against my chest. My hands still shaking, I manage to dial the number for the tracking service, then try to find the words to explain.
Please work. Please!
She’s fine. She’s fine. Her phone got smashed. That’s it. Or she threw it out the window, because she was sick of talking to me.
Tires screech.
The service puts me on hold. Don’t they know my whole world just stopped?
One second, two seconds, three seconds.
Kailey!
No, she’s fine. She’s fine. The baby is fine. Everything will be fine.
I start the car, sitting in idle, ready to go as soon as I know where she is.
My ghosts chat in my head, like they’re laughing at me, feeding off my misery, feasting on my soul.
You know she’s not fine. She’s paying for your sins. Loving her will cost you.
The operator comes back on the line. Kailey’s less than two miles from the house. Impact was detected and emergency personal have been dispatched. I speed through the gate, racing toward her. There’s no paparazzi in sight, which is a good thing, but I don’t make it far before I hit traffic.