The last time we saw each other was in a heated argument filled with tears and screams.Before I stormed out of the house, my mother said something that still haunts me: “You should have been the one to die.Not her!”
As Chase takes hold of my hand, his warm fingers intertwining with mine, he must notice the tension between my mother and me.He asks if I want to talk to her, but I rush to shake my head—I never want to speak to her again.
She breaks our gaze, turns, and hurries out of the diner without a word.I am left looking at the door swinging shut behind her.
My mother hasn’t spoken to me in eighteen years.She hasn’t even made an effort to contact me.
“Your leaving must have been hard on her,” Chase says quietly.I know he is trying to comfort me, but he doesn’t know what really happened between us.
I look at him and try not to let the pain show on my face.“I did what she told me to do,” I say.I don’t want to talk about it.I’ve talked with therapists and doctors over the years and rehashing the past has never helped me before.
Chase tries to apologize, but I put my hand up to stop him.I don’t want his pity.
“Let’s go,” I say to Kelly, my voice trembling with a mix of anger and sadness.As we make our way out of the diner, my steps feel heavy, each one echoing the weight of my unresolved pain.
We walk back to the hotel, stopping briefly so Chase can get his guitar.The walk is silent, a palpable tension filling the air as I try to swallow down the emotions bubbling inside me.
Memories of that fateful day rush back, my mother’s harsh words ringing in my ears, the heartache of her rejection cutting deeper than any physical wound.I clench my fists, my nails digging into my palms as if the pain could ground me, keep me from falling apart.Chase’s presence beside me is a bittersweet comfort; his support is a lifeline, yet it also reminds me of the fragility of human connection and the scars others can leave.
By the time we reach the hotel, I am exhausted, both physically and emotionally.I glance at Chase, whose concerned eyes meet mine, and for a moment, I let my guard down.“Thank you,” I whisper, my voice barely audible.It’s all I can manage, but he nods, hopefully understanding more than words could convey.
“I just need a minute,” I say to Kelly before heading to the bathroom.I lean over the sink and let the silence envelop me, a stark contrast to the chaos within.I know I have to face my past, but for now, I just need to breathe.
CHAPTERFOURTEEN
Chase
We get into a good rhythm,and practice goes smoothly for the rest of the afternoon.Bayleigh has been acting a bit distant since her encounter with her mother, but I don’t blame her.I can only imagine what it must be like for her to be back here.Especially now I know more about why she left.I want her to tell me the whole story, but I don’t want her to feel pressured into telling me.If she wants to she can.
The days after the accident were rough.Everyone was in shock.Bayleigh and I both had bruises from our seat belts and a few minor scrapes.We owe our lives to those safety devices.
I don’t remember when Harper took hers off.She had been fiddling with the radio, leaning over from the backseat and accidentally elbowing me and Bayleigh in her attempt to adjust it.We were all on such a high after winning the battle of the bands, and we’d thought our careers were about to take off after such an amazing performance.
We were exhausted.We had left early that morning to drive to the event, then practiced and prepared all day, and we were less than half an hour away from home.The roads were dark and unfamiliar and winding.
If I could go back in time and insist on driving the car home, I would.I had driven us that route earlier in the day so I was more familiar with the road than Bayleigh was.But it was her car, and she felt responsible for it.
Maybe if I had been driving, Bayleigh would have been the one turning up the volume, and Harper would have stayed safely in the backseat with her seat belt on.
The day of the funeral was the last time I saw Bayleigh.Her face was swollen from crying and her hair was pulled back carelessly.As we stood together at the cemetery, watching as they lowered the casket into the ground, I reached for her hand.She didn’t pull away, but she also didn’t respond.Her hand felt cold and lifeless in mine as she stared ahead with a blank expression.While everyone else began to leave, Bayleigh stayed rooted in place.Finally, after a long time staring at the freshly dug mound, she allowed me to gently guide her to the car where her parents were waiting to help her inside.She didn’t even acknowledge my presence as I shut the door behind her.
I had no idea that would be the last time I saw her.
I always assumed that Bayleigh made the choice to leave because she couldn’t bear it any longer.I was there with her in the hospital when her parents were told about Harper’s death.Her mother had turned to Bayleigh with venom in her eyes and said, “You did this.”
I’d thought that was just a momentary outburst, something she’d said in grief.I believed that they would come together as a family and heal from this tragedy.They’d always been so close before.But without Harper, everything fell apart.
My heart aches for Bayleigh.I can’t imagine what she’s still going through.
Losing Harper felt like losing a sister to me too.She always had a bright smile on her face and never failed to make us all laugh at her jokes.Just like her sister, she could light up any room she walked into.It was devastating that someone so young and full of potential was taken away.
“Chase.”Bayleigh’s voice breaks me out of my thoughts, and I turn to look at her.
“Cam and I were going to do an acoustic set of ‘Summer Rain’ here.Do you want to give it a try?”
I look between the other members, waiting to hear their thoughts.Do they want me to step up and do it with her?Do they think I should?Am I good enough?
“Go on,” Andy says.“It’s not any harder than anything else you’ve done.”
