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Even though I know Kash’s present isn’t a prank jar with a snake spring or a jack-in-the-box, I’m still hesitant to unwrap it. A jump scare is one thing, but I’m just as nervous about the feelings that might jump out at me when I open what he left for me.
I untwist the guitar string and set it on my bedside stand. Slide my nail beneath the edge of the paper and tear the tape. Inside is a plastic CD jewel case with a piece of lined notebook paper folded up inside it.
I pull open the case and stare down at the note.
Paisley,
I wasn’t sure how to get this to you since you never check your messages. Your phone is probably still wrapped up in your sock drawer and out of battery, not that I blame you. There are things I should have said and done differently. I know I let you down. I’m sorry. Please just give it a listen and give me the chance to make it right.
~Kash
He’s scrawled a shortened URL under his name.
I grab my iPad from my desk, minimize the GarageBand app, and pull up the browser. After typing in the URL, I wait for the page to appear. A YouTube video loads and starts to play. I recognize the loft, with its mountain of boxes and the old sleigh pushed against the wall. One of the rickety old wooden chairs is set in the center of the room, where the light from the window is the brightest. There’s some rustling in the background, and then Kash walks into the frame carrying an acoustic guitar.
He’s wearing his usual outfit of dark jeans, dark shirt, and dark black jacket. His hair is longer than it was when he arrived, and his stubble looks a few days old. Dark circles beneath his eyes make them look even darker.
In the video, he sits in the chair and settles the guitar in his lap. Strums an open chord and then looks at the camera. Looks at me. “I’m not sure if you’ll ever see this, but I hope you do. I’ll give you as much time and space as you need. I’ll wait for you. As long as it takes.”
Kash strums another chord, and a lock of hair falls into his face. He tosses it back and bites his bottom lip. “I wrote this song for you. It’s called ‘All of My Mistakes.’ ”
My pulse spikes as Kash plays the intro. As he strums, he taps the heel of his hand on the body of the guitar to give the song a percussive beat. My heart stutters when he starts singing, the raw emotion in his voice piercing me.
“I’m not perfect,
I never claimed to be.
But I made promises,
Promises I tried my best to keep.”
Tears spill down my cheeks as the music seeps into my skin. He looks into the camera with eyes full of sorrow and regret.
“Here I am, the sum of my mistakes,
Wanted more for us than ending in heartbreak.
I don’t deserve forgiveness
or any more of your time.
But just know I’ve given my heart to you,
And it’s no longer mine.”
I listen to the rest of the song, and my heart aches for Kash and for what we had. I don’t know how to repair the damage, but I know it hurts. It hurts so damn much.
Tears rack my body. I flop face down onto the bed and let out an anguished sob.
Track 28
Lonesome Hearts
Kash
December 31
It’s been a whirlwind week in Nashville. Between meetings, rehearsals, and sound checks, I don’t think I’ve had so much packed into my daily schedule since I graduated high school. The breakneck speed at which everything’s been going makes my head spin. Even the busiest days at Hidden Acres, when I was pulling double duty co-writing with Paisley and then helping her out on the farm, seem like a walk in the park compared with this.
