Phantom Heartstrings Read online

  Dinner at my favorite seafood restaurant was a special treat. It’s outside overlooking the bay. The crab legs are to die for and we don’t often get to come here because cracking crab legs for four kids is too much work. It’s been a while since I’ve been here and I’m officially stuffed. I think I’ve eaten more tonight than I’ve eaten in total in the past two months, and clearly Drake noticed as well.

  “If I knew bringing you here was all I needed to do to get you to devour your food and mine, I’d have brought you here weeks ago.” He pinches my side lightly as we’re walking out of the door to car. “If I bring you back here a couple of times a week, we’ll have some meat back on those bones.” He says sarcastically.

  “Mr. Adams, are you telling me I’m too skinny?” I ask, faking my annoyance.

  “Because if you are, I need to tell you it’s very ungentlemanly to discuss the weight, big or small, of a woman.” He opens my door and I sit in the seat, exasperating my movements.

  He gets in the driver’s seat, turns on the ignition then slides his seat all the way back. He turns to me taking me by my hips and hoists me right across his lap, and I can’t contain the laugh as I bump my head on the ceiling. His playful tone is refreshing. Apparently when he took his suit off today, he was fully invested in family time and not once this afternoon or evening has he been distracted by his phone, emails or calls. “Yes, my wife, I did tell you that. It’s good to see you eat. But what’s even better is seeing you smile.”

  I look out into the gravel lot where we are parked along a line of trees. Dinner was filled with conversation about things, but it was a reprieve from emotions. It was an escape. I was content knowing we wouldn’t have to face our demons of everything that’s happened and all the things that have caused the disconnect. I know by his change in tone that he wants to talk and I’m not capable of jumping back into that place tonight. Not today. I need more time, but how can I ever make him understand?

  “Drake, please, I don’t want to talk about this. Not now. I’m breathing for the first time in weeks. Can we please just enjoy this moment?” I plead, willing back my emotions and silently praying for his understanding. When I look back to him, his eyes at staring directly into mine and I’m unsure with his newfound determination to make things right, if he will be able to just let this go.

  “Cams, I’m scared. I know things aren’t good right now. I know one good day won’t make up for everything. Losing the baby was awful but I know that’s not the root of our issues.” His grasp on me has loosened and his eyes are on any place but my own as he finishes in a tone filled with shame. “I failed you. I know I did, but I feel like we’re at a crossroad and the idea that you may be on the edge of walking down a different road than the one I’m on, is killing me. Just tell me what to do.”

  His words land harshly on my heart. I don’t think the thought ever crossed my mind to walk away from my marriage. I’ve loved Drake for almost half my life. Things aren’t perfect in spite of our pretending. Things are hard. Raising a family takes everything you have. My marriage isn’t as easy as one would think, but I never thought of my life with him as disposable. His little confession only highlights the bigger issues that we both feel. My heart is breaking for him.

  I bring my legs over and straddle him in the front seat of my SUV. I wrap my arms around him and fall into his chest as the tears I tried to hold back begin to fall. “I’ve loved you through every single minute of every challenge we’ve faced, even the silent ones that you never knew existed. Not for one minute do I think the solution here is for me to be anywhere other than the same path as you. Even on a dark path, Drake, it’s a connection to you that I crave,” I tell him with muffled words into his chest. “All I’m asking for is time and understanding. We’re off track. I know. But Rome wasn’t built in a day. We just need time. I know you want an instant fix but that’s not going to happen.” I finish leaning back so I can look into his eyes for any clues as to what his response will be.

  He takes my face between his hands, making sure I’m looking at his as he responds. “All we have is time, Cami. I love you more than my last breath. Just please, talk to me. Don’t leave me in the dark. You’re not alone in this loss and you’re not alone in the marriage. I don’t need a perfect wife. If you’re happy or sad, excited or frustrated, I don’t care what it is, I just want in.” I know he likes having total control of things. It’s his nature. If there’s something wrong, he wants to fix it. “Promise we can talk about this more?” he pleads.

  I may not be alone in this now but I have been forever. I nod my head accepting that we’ll talk more but for now, I can’t.

  Chapter 12

  Drake

  She has no idea what she’s asking me to do. Through her tears, she’s asked me to table this conversation. I’ve never felt as incomplete as I currently do but it’s my fault. I created this. I know that.

  At work when things don’t go the way they should, there’s a team of people there to work on it. In this, we are the team. But I feel pressing her right now will only make things worse.

  I pull her into me, lowering my face to the spot in her neck that brings chills to her body. “I love you Cami. I’ll do anything you ask to get back on track. If time is what you’re asking for, it’s yours.”

  Our embrace is hard to break right now for both of us and my body aches when she begins to remove herself from my lap and slides back into the passenger seat. She opens the glove box and takes out a packet of tissues, lowering the mirror, begins wiping her eyes and erasing all signs of our emotional talk.

  I watch her, taking a moment myself to regain my composure. When she finishes she looks to me with a smile. “Ready?” I ask. Ready has so much more meaning to me than I think she understands but in this case, she nods her readiness to leave and I accept it putting the car in reverse and driving to see her best friend.

  Whitney and Cami have been friends since college. They were sorority sisters. Since Cams and I met in college, I’ve known Whitney as long as Cams give or take a few days maybe.

  Whit is a fireball. She’s had a rough time recently and I know that too has taken its toll on my wife. Cami feels a strong responsibility to care for her friends. They’re all really close and I love that. The only problem is, from what I can see Cami has closed herself off. When she’s having any sort of challenges, she won’t open up and let them reciprocate. This is a side of her that I don’t fully understand but it’s always been the case.

  We’re sitting in the family room of Whit’s townhouse eating carrot cake. Whitney’s boyfriend, if she’s acknowledging him as such, sits quietly with us eating his cake and watching their interactions carefully. I don’t really know much of their issues, I’m not sure Cams does completely either. We talked about them. It seems easier for Cami to allow me in when working through the issues of others than our own but at least she’s talking to me.

  Their banter with each other is entertaining and I don’t think Jon or I could ever get away with saying similar things to these girls. They have an odd way of accepting and sometimes brushing off the things that only they are allowed to say.

  “Whitney, how has it been, taking time off work?” I ask curious as to how other work-o-holics handle the escape.

  “Fucking torture! I know I’m ready to go back. I feel fine,” She says to the group but tags Jon with her eye contact specifically. Jon shrugs his shoulders and takes a huge bite of his cake before commenting.

  “I’m not a doc, Whit. Sorry babe, it’s not my order you’re having to comply with,” He finishes smugly as if her stare of death has no effect on him. Clearly I’ve opened some wounds.

  “Right, well, you’re definitely not a doctor. I completely agree but you’re certainly holding me hostage here and you know it!” she tells him pointedly.

  I look over to Cams, waiting to make eye contact, worried that I may have opened a can of worms that will leave everyone is a pissy mood. Fuck me, I can’t win. But when our eyes connect
and she smiles, I’m hopeful it’s a sign that every thing’s okay.

  “Whitney, I was there when the doctor gave his order. Stop attacking Jon for helping you and drown your misery of having to stay home in your next slice of cake,” Cams tells her, leaving everyone in the room laughing except Whit, who struggles to hide her annoyance.

  The girls then change the subject talking about a reality show that they watch. I hate reality television. It’s clearly staged. I’ll never understand how people get any enjoyment out of it.

  “If you guys want real reality TV, y’all should watch a damn ball game. Those shows are stupid as hell. They make you dumber every minute you’re watching.” I speak my peach on the subject which only earns me a “shut up” in unison from both Cams and Whit.

  Jon laughs and tells me he completely agrees as our own conversation moves to this past week’s game and letting the girls talk about their chick shows on their own.

  Jon seems like a great guy and even though I’m not particularly tight with the men that my wife’s best friends have all claimed, we’re friendly enough. I don’t have many close friends outside of work. A couple guys in the neighborhood, I watch games with sometimes, but that’s about it.

  When the girls get up and leave the room seeking solace in another space claiming to be annoyed with our chatter of stupid sports, I feel a little bit of anxiousness not having Cams in my sight. I know that’s just my fears of losing her seeping in, but I’m a fucking man so I can’t let that shit show. I laugh them off and continue my conversation with Jon, ignoring the ache.

  Chapter 13

  Cami

  Whit looks great. She looks happier, lighter and well. It’s a huge difference from the state she was in almost a full week ago. I’m comforted by seeing that. Whitney seems extremely annoyed by their talk of sports and makes a scene, ordering me to come and talk with her in another room to get away from all the testosterone flying around. The guys buy her theory, but I can see right through it.

  I go with the flow hoping she finally wants to talk. We climb the stairs to her bedroom, passing a pile of Jon’s things stacked neatly in the corner.

  “What’s all that?” I ask concerned that Jon has packed to leave and Whit will be alone.

  “Jon’s corner. I told him he’d have the smallest corner when we made our deal. I followed through,” she finishes when we reach the landing of the second floor.

  “Are you kidding? You’ve had him holed up in a corner the past few days? WHITNEY! That’s not okay,” I tell her, annoyed that she thinks treating the person who went out on a limb to take care of her, that way.

  “I’m not making him sleep there, dummy. Just keep his boy crap there. My house is too pretty for boy things,” She says smugly.

  “You can be a huge bitch sometimes, I hope you know that and thank your lucky stars that guy with all his boy crap stayed to put up with you.” I tell her laughing through my insult that has absolutely no effect on her.

  She’s kinda right though, her house is beautiful. Boy crap would destroy the overall look but I’m never admitting that to her. We sit on her bed and she looks at me questioningly.

  “What’s going on with you? Something’s up and I wanna know what it is. Spill,” She says confidently. Feeling sure her bossiness will work.

  “Well, I was going to ask you the same thing. What’s your deal? What happened? I gave you time, now I want answers,” I reply in kindness.

  I’m not telling her anything. This little visit was about her and I thought we wouldn’t have a chance to talk with the guys here but now that we’re alone, the time is upon us.

  “I’ll answer your questions if you answer mine. One for one. Just like the old days. Confession Session?” she invites. And although I really don’t want this to be about me, I do want answers about her, so I agree.

  “I’ll go first,” I start. “What happened to send you to send you spiraling into danger zone?” I ask, not beating around the bush and waiting for her response.

  I know she’s going to answer my question when I see her posture change. She slumps her shoulders and curls her legs into her body. “I went to the hospital to see Jon when he was there taking care of that girl Kelly. I hadn’t seen much of him and Alexis told me to get my shit together and be a supportive girlfriend. So I went. I found her unconscious in bed and him asleep beside her holding her hand. I thought they had a thing. I thought she was more important to him than me.” She finishes, relaxing her body. Clearly happy to be finished with that question.

  “Now my turn,” she says. “Why were you sad at the hospital? I know it wasn’t just because of me so don’t try it, by the way.” I try to take a minute to think of how to answer that without turning this on my issues and she clears her throat alerting me that she’s still waiting.

  “It’s been a rough few months with home stuff. I’m trying hard to get over it all, but it’s been hard,” I finish. Or at least I think I do before she reminds me it’s against the rules to be vague. So I begin again. “I had an ectopic pregnancy just over two months ago. I lost the baby before I had the chance to tell anyone and celebrate. It’s been hard to adjust to that and I feel like a failure.” I finish, understanding her feeling of relief when it’s over.

  She has tears in her eyes, which is surprising to see from her. She doesn’t cry easily or really ever. I knew she’d be hurt by it. Even my best friend who has never been a mother will understand the loss. But, I’m thankful that the rules of this game do not allow her to comment on our confessions until the confession session is complete and it’s now my turn to ask her a question. So I pull myself together.

  “What’s the deal with you and Jon? Do you love him? Are you guys together?” My question has three parts, which is against the rules and I already know she’ll object.

  “That’s three questions,” she fits in before responding. “He’s here. That’s a start. Yes, I love him. And I don’t really know if we’re officially together. He’s hasn’t passed me a note asking me to check a box and I certainly haven’t changed my Facebook status. But yes, more or less. He knows what happened. I guess I didn’t understand. I overreacted and we’re trying to work through it. Trust is hard, Cams. For me anyways,” She finishes.

  I’m shocked she disclosed all of that and answered all of my questions and more, but I know I’ll pay for it. “Are you and Drake okay? You both looked like you walked through hell to get to my house tonight.”

  I told Drake when we were in the car and I was obsessing about my puffy red eyes that she’d be able to see it. He kept telling me I was beautiful and it would be fine, not to worry. He was wrong.

  But I begin anyway, “We’re okay. It’s hard. I think I’ve felt alone a lot over the past few years. When I lost the baby, I shut down. Our relationship took a turn. I’ve kept my little life in a bubble for a long time at the sacrifice of my relationships. I have a hard time admitting things aren’t perfect because I feel like I’m letting everyone down and ruining his image of how perfect everything is.” The tears are flowing but I have more to say. “I thought it was what he wanted. And he didn’t know how unhappy and distant we were. It’s been years. It was my fault.” I finish trying to compose myself and catch my tears with the arm of my cardigan.

  She tosses a box of tissues at me. I know she’s struggling not to comment. She’s held back for longer than I ever expected and I’ve confessed so much. My turn again.

  “What’s holding you back, Whit? What’s keeping you from opening your heart to Jon? Clearly he loves you. It’s easy for anyone to see! I understand that what you thought you saw with him and Kelly could have appeared to be more than a friendship, but let me tell you what I saw when he was there with you,” I say, finding myself unable to hold back. She needs to know.

  “You’re breaking the rules again,” she interjects. “You suck at this game.”

  I shrug. I don’t really care though. I want to finish anyway. “When you were sleeping, Jon wasn’t passively ho
lding your hand. Not for one minute. He wouldn’t take his eyes off of you. He watched your Every. Single. Breath. He wouldn’t leave. He wouldn’t sleep. He wouldn’t eat. You consumed his entire world. He would have gone to the edge of the earth to help you heal. That’s how I know the difference between some girl he passively supports as a friend, and how he will care for the love of his life. So I ask, what’s holding YOU back?”

  I think she’s shocked. I’ve shocked her into seeing reality hopefully. She starts speaking so quickly. “The dream. I had a bad dream. I’ve had the same one my whole life. Only this time it was him I was calling to, to save me and he stood there. Just watching. I feel like it means something. I don’t want to get hurt. He’ll ruin me.” She finally admits the root of the problem.

  I reach over and hug her. “I love you, Whit. I wish I could tell you that loving is easy and you’ll never get hurt, you actually might. But what I can promise is that if you really do love each other, you get through it and together you’ll work to heal broken hearts. It won’t always be easy. Trust me when I tell you that people who make it look easy are faking. But the good news is, the good times will make the hard times all worth it. Stop holding back. He loves you. Accept it. You’re worthy of his love and you know what?” I say, waiting for her to look at me, “He’s worthy of your love and that’s really a very special kind of love. I speak from experience.” I tell my best friend, willing her to take a chance on things. I know she doesn’t want to be alone forever and she’s the only one who might actually believe her excuses of why she can’t be in a relationship. This is good for her.

  “Why didn’t you tell me you lost the baby? I understand why you didn’t tell the world, but me?” she asks, finally admitting her hurt.