Remorse chokes me. I have to fix this. We get into our town house, and I run her a scented bath and pour her a glass of wine. She smiles sadly at me and allows me to undress her, the glow from the flickering candles making her look more like an angel than she already does. My angel. I hold her hand while she lowers herself into the tub and kiss her lightly on the head. I tell her I’ll give her space as I leave the bathroom and close the door. Grabbing a beer, I head to the porch and wonder how I could’ve missed it. How did I do this again?
Sitting on the porch swing I put up for Emily just before we went on tour, I slip off my shoes and socks and try not to let the memories flood my brain, but no matter how hard I try, they intrude anyway. My mother, five months after my father died, lying in her bed, an empty bottle of pills in her hand, froth coming out her mouth. The suicide note telling me she’s sorry she couldn’t do it. That she tried, but she couldn’t live without my father. That every day it got worse and worse for her and that I should wait with Mrs. Maier, the kind old lady next door, until Pops, my grandfather, came to take me to live with him. At thirteen, I’d racked my brain for the signs I’d missed, but I couldn’t think of any. Sure, she’d been sad, but she’d still baked cookies and come to my ball games. And even if some of the light had dwindled from her eyes, she still had mini-concerts with me in the living room. She’d even push all the furniture back so I’d have more room. I’d missed the signs like I’d missed them with Emily.
Standing up, I walk back into the house. I’d fix this. I wouldn’t bring girls onstage anymore. I’d let Keller manage the social media so Emily wasn’t subjected to that, and I’d redirect the fan mail.
I open the bathroom door—the smile at having a solution slides from my face, and the beer bottle I was holding shatters into a million pieces all over the floor. I scramble over the broken glass to get to Emily, bleeding in the tub—a deep cut along her wrist. Glass cuts into my feet as I run over the shards. Water sloshes over the side of the tub as I get in to gather her into my arms.
“Angel! No, no, no, no, no! Emily, baby, no!” I look around frantically to see what she used to slice her wrist and see the broken wineglass. The wine I poured for her.
Her eyes flick open. “Can’t do it, Kade, but can’t leave you. Trapped.”
Bile rises in my throat, and I reach for my phone, hoping it didn’t get wet when I jumped into the tub. It’s still dry, and I dial 911, telling them what happened while I reach for a towel and wrap it around her wrist. The blood seeps through, staining the towel red. Her eyes flicker closed, and I shake her.
“Angel, baby, stay with me. You can’t leave me.” I get no response. I look at the time on my phone as the minutes tick past. Seven minutes. It’s not a long time but can be the matter of life and death. The paramedics arrive, and I grab for another towel and throw it over Emily before rushing to the front door to unlock it. She flickers her eyes slightly when the paramedic starts talking to her, and I feel a tiny scrap of hope. I’m numb as they put her on a gurney and into the ambulance. I’m numb as one guy works on her and the other on my feet. I’m still numb when they rush her into the ER and point me to the waiting room. Libby, Emily’s sister, arrives and when she asks me what happened, I just shake my head. Eventually, the doctor comes out and tells us Emily is going to be okay. I don’t even realize I’m crying until a tear falls from my chin. Relief washes over me as it occurs to me how close I was to losing her.
“Can I see her?” I ask the doctor and stand.
She looks uncomfortable as she shakes her head. “I’m sorry, Mr. Tennick. She doesn’t want to see you.” The doctor turns to Libby. “She asked for you though.”
I ignore the pain as I stand alone in the waiting room. She needs space, I get that. It’s been a rough night. I get a cup of coffee from the vending machine and prepare to take up residence in the waiting room for the rest of the night. For however long it takes until Emily is ready to speak to me. Fifteen minutes later, Libby comes into the waiting room. I stand. “Can I go see her now?”
Regret laces her face as she reaches for my hands. “Kade, she doesn’t want to see you again. She asked me to tell you to leave. I’ll be over tomorrow to get her things.”
I shake my head. “It’s all a misunderstanding, Lib. I made a mistake, but I’m going to fix it.”
She squeezes my hand tighter, and tears glisten her eyes. “She told me what happened. This isn’t about you, Kade. You have to believe that. It’s about her not being able to live your life. The jealousy is eating at her, and she won’t take away your dream.”
Dread balls in my throat, and I can barely speak past it. “No, I can’t lose her. She’s my everything. I’ll quit the band, I’ll—”
Libby leads
