“You don’t believe that either,” she said softly.
No, I didn’t, but I needed to if I was going to survive this horrendous ache that was permeating every inch of my body.
“I need to practice,” I said, reaching for my violin again.
Rachel caught my wrist, her grip gentle. “It’s three in the morning.”
“Please,” I pleaded, my voice hoarse from holding back all the emotions that wanted to explode out of me. “Just let me have this. Let me have the music. It’s all I have left.”
Rachel looked like she wanted to argue, but something in my expression must have stopped her. She sighed, running a hand through her hair.
“Promise me you’ll try to get some sleep. And eat something. Please.”
I nodded, though we both knew I was lying. Sleep meant dreams, and dreams meant Drew’s hands on my skin and Rory’s giggle echoing through my mind. Food meant sitting still long enough for my thoughts to catch up with me.
Rachel reluctantly left, and I immediately picked up the violin again, despite the pain in my fingers. The bow felt heavy in my grip, but I raised it anyway.
If music was all I had left, then I’d make it enough.
I had to make it enough.
As I played, a new thought crept into my mind, one that both terrified and comforted me in equal measure. Maybe it was time to consider transferring. Montana had other music programs. Other schools where I could start fresh.
Where I wouldn’t risk running into Drew and Rory around every corner.
Where I could rebuild myself into someone who would never be foolish enough to believe in love.
The strings cut deeper into my already raw fingertips.
This time, I didn’t stop to wipe them clean.
FORTY-NINE
I was staring at the wall, Rory asleep in my arms, when Ava walked into the house without bothering to knock. She paused when she walked into the living room. Honestly, I was surprised it took her this long to show up. I’d texted what had happened, but told her Liam was here. He’d stayed with me until today when he went back to Meadowbrook to help out his mom. Guess they were switching off checking on me.
“Jesus Christ, Drew.” She took one look at me and shook her head in disgust. “You look like absolute shit.”
“Thanks for the pep talk,” I muttered, not bothering to look at her. Rory stirred against my chest, and I automatically started patting her back gently, which usually kept her calm. It was one of the few things I could still do right. She’d been crankier than usual this week, and it felt like she was punishing me for ruining things with Harper.
She didn’t need to. I was punishing myself enough.
Ava glanced around the living room, taking in the empty takeout containers scattered across the coffee table,the pile of unfolded laundry on the couch, and the general disaster zone that had become my life since Harper left.
I functioned just enough to work and take care of Rory. Anything else was too much.
“At least someone in this house is doing well,” she said, her gaze locked on Rory. I didn’t bother correcting her.
“Have you talked to Harper at all?” Ava asked, settling into the chair across from me.
“No.” The word came out flat, emotionless. “Liam said I should give her space. Let her process everything.”
She scoffed. “Of course that’s what Liam would say. And how’s that working out for you?”
“How does it look like it’s working? But she needs time.”
“Time for what? To take your silence as proof that everything you had was fake?”
Panic hit me first, but I tried to breathe through it. “No, time is supposed to make things better, let her clear her head, and then we’ll talk.”
