Chapter Thirty-Two

"I left my phone upstairs," I tell Adam as we walk through the lobby.

"Are you expecting an important call?"

"I mean to connect with our people. It looks like we're on our honeymoon walking around just the two of us."

Adam opens a large glass door for me to walk through, and mutters under his breath, "You say all the right things, don't you?"

He follows me out onto hexagonal stone pavers with moss sandwiched between, and we fall into awe over the setting sun that sits above the trees beyond the long, hilly yard. The whipped clouds have turned pink, casting a slightly orange hue on the bistro tables and stone water fountain. Pathways weave in and out of hedges. Dying and dry, but well-planned, landscaping decorates the property. Curved gardens. Square gardens.

"They have a reflecting pool!" I gasp. No one responds, so my head spins around, looking for Adam.

He saunters toward me with two glasses, nodding at a dumbstruck passerby.

I'm reminded of the one pair of ripped, duct-taped shorts that he seemed to wear every day in the summer. Right now, with his pants and ironed shirt, hair combed to the side, he looks so handsome it hurts.

Stop it , I tell my gooey insides. It's going to be a long night if you don't get it together.

He places a drink in my hand. "I got you white wine. In case you spill on yourself."

"You read my mind," I say, taking it.

He exhales, looking at a disappearing path through one of the gardens. "Do you want to walk around?"

I glance down at the two-inch heel of my suede shoes. The pebbled pathway ahead mocks me. "I'd love to, but I'll fall on my face."

Adam checks out my shoes and says, "I'll help you." He adds with a bite, "It'll be like we're on our honeymoon ."

A couple walks onto the pathway in front of us, her ballet flats giving her zero difficulty, but when my feet stop onto the stones, I feel like I'm listing on the high seas.

Adam tucks his lips into his teeth. He lets out a soft laugh and says, "Are you walking on hot coals?"

"I think I'm going to get motion sickness," I grumble.

He reaches to the side and catches my hand, holding it up for balance. "Does this help?"

"Not really," I laugh.

He squeezes my fingers. "I think it helps. I think this is working."

"I'm no less balanced right now."

"I'm going to keep doing it. You know, because we're –"

" Friends ."

"Yeah, friends." He nods appreciatively at a statue of a woman holding a basket of fruit. "And my friends don't embarrass me by falling on their ass in a fancy establishment. You hear? I won't have it."

I point up ahead with my un-held hand. "Ooh bricks. I'll be okay up here."

We make it to the brick portion of the path, but Adam doesn't let got my hand. He lowers it to our sides, fingers wrapped around mine, commenting on the landscape design and complaining about how much water goes into keeping the yard so green. He even leans over to smell an unseasonably blue hydrangea blossom, taking me with him, as if he didn't even notice we were still attached.

He can't not notice.

Before we turn a corner, I hear a deep voice speaking about wine.

Francesca's voice interrupts, saying, "We're not spitting this out, right? I can drink this?"

In a panic, I pry my hand from Adam and push him away from me seconds before hearing, "Vee!"

Adam stumbles into a hedge. My sister comes rushing toward me.

"Do you want some free tasting wine?" she asks, pointing to the group of people huddled around a table. The long, belled sleeve of her silky dress drips to the ground.

"No, but that looks like fun," I gesture to her nicely dressed children running in the grass behind her.

She waves her hand. "David's over there somewhere, I think." Her eyes fall on a body slowly walking up behind us. "Adam!"

He smiles and stands beside me, a good two feet away.

"You've got a leaf in your hair."

"Oh." He picks it off and brushes his shirt clean. "Yeah, I ran into a hedge. It was so forceful, it was almost like someone pushed me."

She raises her eyebrows knowingly and mutters, "Yeah, I'll bet this place is haunted." She downs the last of her plastic cup of wine.

Adam checks his watch. "What time do we eat dinner?"

"Our itinerary says the dining room opens at 5:00, and I don't know about you guys, but I need to get some food in me." She squints up to the grassy hill where Alice is running in circles, chasing a butterfly. David has one hand in his pant pocket, the other scrolling on his phone.

Francesca's voice changes. "Where's Grayson?"

Adam replies, "I'm sure he's over there somewhere."

Her breathing begins to sharpen. "I don't see him. He's not there."

"Fran, calm down," I begin, knowing exactly where this is headed.

"Vienna, go find him," she demands, grabbing my arm.

"Ow," I say calmly, "That hurts."

"Go find him!" she screams. "It's going to get dark soon and he's –"

" Fran ." I grab both of her shaking hands. Her voluminous curled hair flies in front of her face as she spins around frantically. People begin to stare.

I tell her, "I will go find him. I'm sure he's fine."

Adam answers steadily, "He's right there."

We look up to see Grayson laying on the grass, staring up at the darkening clouds, yelling at Alice to not step on him.

"He must have just been behind a tree," Adam says.

My heart pounds. When Francesca goes to these extremes, I all but lose my own sense of sanity. I stay outwardly calm because she needs me to be, but inside I soak up her heightened energy – skyrocketing blood pressure, nervous shaking, instant sweating.

For her, it's over as soon as it began.

"Oh," she relaxes. She drags her nails through her hair. "Let's go to dinner, then!" She waves her arm at her family until David sees her, pockets his phone, grabs Alice's hand.

Francesca walks off, and I take a moment to breathe.

Adam's thoughts don't escape, but his eyes focus heavy on my face as I follow my sister out of the garden, but don't let him hold my hand this time.

Caroline and Kate meet us at the door. Caroline looks cute, as always, and I'll bet someone just asked Kate if she won the Miss North Carolina pageant last year. She tugs on the sides of her stretchy, skintight dress.

"Vienna!" She grabs my hand. "Isn't this place gorgeous? Mackenzie was telling me all about the mood lighting out here at night. He's going to do fireworks at Christmas. We have to come back at Christmas!"

I nod, watching a curl fall over her eyes.

"Mackenzie said that all the wine is sourced from his vineyard in California. He has a vineyard!" she gushes.

"Uh-huh."

" And he said they're going to do weddings in the Spring. How romantic would this place be for a wedding? I am getting married here."

"Well, sure."

Adam offers, "Mackenzie is a really, really great guy."

She squeals, " I know !" and walks off.

I glance at his expression when they've all gone back inside the building. "Do you feel rejected?" I poke.

He stares back. "No." After a sharp inhale, he waves me to the door.

Inside, Francesca has her map and the rest of us follow her down a moody hallway lined with antique framed black and white images of the house. There are newspaper clippings, photographs of a wealthy looking Victorian family, and blueprints. The dark hardwood floor leads us to a room with violin music playing.

At the end of the hallway, a door swings open.

I yearn, "That must be the kitchen."

Adam says, "Maybe they have a bed for me in there."

"Do you think he has a pastry chef?"

"I don't know, Vienna."

I crane my neck to try to see inside the door. "I'll bet they have a gorgeous kitchen. He probably has every possible baking gadget. Oh! I'll bet they have a Bakerlux oven. I want one."

"Well, circle it on the Amazon catalogue, you never know what that might lead to."

I let out a laugh, but it stops as soon as it arrives.

"Hold on there." David halts me at the arched dining room entrance. He points up.

A sprig of mistletoe tied in red ribbon dangles above my head.

Adam brushes up beside me. "What's going on?" He frowns at the other standing with amused looks on the other side of us.

" Dave ," I threaten.

Adam finally looks up. "Oh."

David argues with a wide grin, "It's the laws of Christmas, Vienna. You two have to kiss under the mistletoe."

I wait for someone to brush him off and tell him to let us go, but the others find this just as amusing.

"This is stupid," I fight.

"It's the law," Francesca cheers.

"It's not Christmas," I bark.

She says, "Everything after Halloween is Christmas. I am prepared to die on that hill."

I roll my eyes, crossing my arms, considering pushing past the human shield of David's body. I haven't kissed Adam in fourteen years, so I am certainly not going to do it right now, in front of my family. If we had enough restraint during our episode in the woods yesterday and while staring at the red lover's bed we have to share tonight, then I'm surely not going to waste my –

Too late.

Adam's hand grips my waist to spin me facing him. His lips press gently to mine. Everything else fades. I can't hear our breath, feel my pulse, or smell the aftershave on his chin. I can only taste his soft, wet mouth and when my lips begin to open, I feel his hand stiffen, holding me in place.

It's enough to snap back into my own corner.

"For Christmas," Adam jokes, throwing his hand in the air as if he just sacrificed his standards for a silly tradition. Meanwhile, I can't stop my hand from covering my mouth. Both for shock and to subconsciously hold the kiss in a little longer.

I'm pathetic. My wine might have spilled a little bit.

Caroline laughs and claps, prompting the kids to follow, and they walk to the table where Kate sits, talking to Mackenzie. David bites back a smile, and he and Adam join them.

I ask Francesca, "What?"

Her arms hang by her sides. A suspicious expression grows on her face. "That was quite the first kiss," she muses.

"It wasn't a first kiss ," I argue.

"So, it wasn't your first kiss?"

"That's not what I meant."

She lingers on my face, searching it for something. "Well, if someone kissed me like that, there would sure be a second kiss."

I tuck a hair behind my ear, hoping that my lipstick isn't smeared and my face isn't too flush, wondering what she suspects. By the vastly different reactions of Adam and I, she probably thinks I'm obsessed with him and he's over there washing his mouth out.

She gives me one last once over, then I follow her to a round table. I place my wine glass at a setting between Caroline and Kate. On our plates is a menu with a selection of two different soups and five different entrees. Adam and I meet eyes while everyone else has their noses in the menu. His mouth is marked with red lipstick.

I point to my mouth. He frowns. I discreetly gesture for him to wipe it off with the napkin.

Francesca snaps her head up, darting her eyes between us.

"Daddy, a cat!" Alice shouts.

"Shh!" He puts a finger to his mouth.

She points to a stray cat prowling by the window. "I want to see, I want to see."

"Okay." He takes her hand. "Fran, order me the chicken."

After they've gone to the window, Grayson says, "Mom, I need to go to the bathroom."

Francesca takes a sip of wine and studies her menu. "Auntie Vee will take you," she says.

Grayson hops off his chair.

I widen my eyes, waiting for her to look up or ask me to take him. There's no reason she can't take him herself, but the least she could do is ask me. When she doesn't move and Grayson stands by my chair waiting to go, I push my chair back.

"I got it," Adam calls out.

Francesca shakes her head, "Don't worry, Adam, Vienna can take him."

He pushes in his chair, a stiff smile plastered on his face. "I'm going to boys' room anyway. Come on, Grayson."

I focus on my hands when he passes my chair. I'm only ever embarrassed about conceding to Francesca when other people see it happening. I should call her out for it. What age does one have to be when they finally stand up to their sisters?

The waiter comes up beside me. "Can I get you another wine?"

With another glance at Francesca and Adam's napkin printed with red lipstick, I say, "Yes, please."

Chapter Thirty-Three

Mackenzie comes by to ask us about the food.

"Delicious," Francesca answers, leaning in her chair, rubbing her stomach. "Ten out of ten."

He laughs and responds, "Excellent! I'm glad. Well, if you have any suggestions, please let me know. Enjoy the night. The lights in the garden are beautiful."

Adam comes around and claps his friend on the back. "Mac, let's chat about when you want me to play." He drops his voice. "Also, I've thought of how you can make it up to me about the room situation."

They head out of the door and David announces, "We've got to get these kids changed so they can run off a little bit of energy before bed."

Caroline says, "I'm excited to listen to Adam play! I love Should've, it's one of my favorite songs."

"Do you think Mackenzie will get to come out and listen?" Kate squeals.

"Oh my God," Francesca groans. She sets her napkin on the table. "I'm going to go up and change, too. Are you coming, Vienna?"

I focus back on the hallway, searching for a sign of my roommate. "I'll finish my dessert. You guys go ahead, I'm fine here on my own."

I'm finished with my pumpkin cheesecake, I don't touch it again. I just want to know where Adam is, how we're going to handle the rest of the night, and how drunk or sober I should be when the lights finally go off.

There is a fire pit outside with long metal benches in a circle. In front of it will be Adam, in his element, so far from mine. I'm about to hear my first ever Adam Kent song, and I'm both terrified and hopeful that he's asking Mackenzie to put sheets on the kitchen counter so he can steer clear of more mistletoe mishaps.

When he returns to the dining room, he searches for everyone else, smiling when he sees they've gone.

"What's that look for?" I wonder.

He says, "I'm glad you're all alone. I have a surprise for you."

I'm guided out of my chair and into the hallway. Adam pushes open the door to the kitchen, and waves at the cooks and cleaning staff who don't seem surprised to see us. He opens a second door, and we stand in a smaller kitchen, with subway tiled walls and a metal island. We're completely alone.

I spin around, speechless and confused.

Adam takes a white apron from a hook. "Mackenzie owed me one," he says. "So, he's giving us the pastry kitchen for the night."

"I don't understand," I whisper.

He places the apron neck over my head. "You have as long as you want." He comes to stand behind me, taking the ties to my back, bending down and speaking into my ear, "In this pastry kitchen." His arms hug my waist, tying the straps in front of my body, adding into my other ear, "To do the thing that brings you joy."

I lean back into his chest, looking at the stand mixer and metal bowls and pots hanging from the ceiling. My hand absently rests on his. "Really?"

He slightly pulls me closer. "Really."

I twist my head, finding my nose a centimeter from us. "Thank you." I smile.

He smiles back. Releasing me, Adam steps back and asks, "What will you bake?"

I cup my warm, astounded face. I think it over: "Well…I'm at the opening of a new business. I don't like to just bake for myself, I want to share it with people. And these people all just ate dessert. They're going to sit by the fire and listen to a musician sing to them."

"I'm aware, yes." Adam crosses his arms, sniffles, listening. "And I'm going to sing at them."

"I know what to make." I assess his comfortable stance. "Are you going anywhere soon?"

"Not without you."

His eyes sparkle when I request that he get out the supplies I need to make sugar cookies. I mix the wet ingredients in the stand mixer.

"Cornstarch makes the edges crispy," I explain while Adam adds the flour mixture. "You don't want to mix it too much."

As I spread powdered sugar on the counter, he asks, "How come you don't need a recipe to make these?"

"It's the basic sugar cookie base."

"I need a recipe to make scrambled eggs."

When the dough is done, he hands me the ball of it, and I hand him the rolling pin. "I need to get the icing ready."

"This is a lot of pressure." He looks at his clothes. "I'm not wearing an apron."

I bend down and find one folded on the shelf under the island. Getting up on my toes, I hang it over his neck and reach the string around his waist. My chin raises to him as my fingers tie the strings around his back. "Now you are."

Adam smirks. "How mad would you be if I wiped some sugar on your face."

" Don't ." I jump back. "You already had your food fight fun. I'm serious."

"I'm not going to!" He laughs.

As I stir food coloring into bowls of icing, Adam rolls the dough into a rectangle. He follows my instructions, stamping round cookie cutters and rolling the dough back together so there's nothing left by the end but a tiny scrap. He puts the cutouts on two cookie sheets.

"The oven should be done preheating any second." I twist the end of my red piping bag full of icing. Just then, the oven beeps.

"The things your mind can do," he says, putting the cookies in the oven. "Time an oven, remember a recipe. Read palms. How long?"

I throw him look and seven fingers. "You know, the palmistry thing isn't an exact science. I wouldn't read into it too much."

He leans into the counter beside me. "So, I'm not going to have one great love?"

I glance sideways. "I guess that's up to you." I remember something I wanted to say. "Hey – thanks for taking Grayson to the bathroom earlier."

Adam runs his eyes over my regretful face and says, "You can't let her take advantage of you, Vee."

"I know." I spoon my green icing into a bag.

"She's just going to keep doing it. The way she expects you to solve her problems for her…it's not fair ."

I sigh. "Her mother died in a car accident when she was twelve."

Adam puts two fingers under my chin and forces me to look at him. His brow furrows. "So did yours ."

"She's more fragile than I am."

"That doesn't mean she can walk all over you." His hand moves to gently grip my jaw. "She's a grown up. Help her when she needs it. Finding her child in a field and taking him to the bathroom does not require your help."

He drops his hand, and I busily organize my piping bags into rainbow order. "It's hard to find the words to stand up for myself," I admit.

"It takes practice."

I'm good at practice when it's something I feel confident I can do. I've never struggled to work on tumble skills or study for a test or hone my bread kneading technique. But, Heddy has tried to get me to meditate for years. I told her once that I could not do it, my mind refused to be quiet. I just can't do it.

"It's not going to be suddenly quiet," she told me. "Meditation is about noticing the thought and choosing not to engage with it. Let it go. It's a practice. You can't do it once and all of a sudden think you've mastered the art of meditation."

Adam echoes those same sentiments, saying, "The more you stand up to her, the easier it will get and the less she's going to do that to you. She didn't ask Kate or Caroline to take him. She didn't wait for David to get back."

"It's always been me," I explain. "Because I'm the one who has always been there. I'm the one who will never leave her."

He says, "You told me once that she didn't realize she was doing it. I think that's true, too. So just make her realize it."

The timer rings out and Adam goes to open the oven. He puts one sheet of cookies on a cooling rack, and I put the other sheet on another.

I say, "After they cool, I can ice them."

He nods, looking around the room. "What do we do in the meantime?"

"I'm not sword fighting wooden spoons with you."

"I wouldn't mind some mistletoe right about now," he teases, raising a brow.

I shove his shoulder lightly.

"What?" Adam throws his hands up laughing. "It's Christmas! I'm just saying that I love Christmas, and I love Christmas decorations."

"What's a cold, windy Chicago Christmas, like?" I ask, filling a glass with tap water.

He wanders around the little kitchen, opening drawers to check out their contents. His head pops up. "It's really cool." He holds up a bag of small white beans, with question.

"For pie crusts."

He puts them back. "Anyway, I go to this bar every year and they cover the ceiling in Christmas lights, it's insane. You would love it."

We stand on opposite sides of the kitchen.

Adam cocks his head. "…but I'll be in Atlanta for Christmas. With my dad."

"You don't spend it with your mom?"

He scratches his jaw. "Yeah, no. She doesn't invite me."

"Sorry," I offer.

"It's okay." He pushes off the counter and walks toward me while I sip water slowly. "I spend a lot of time in Atlanta, actually. My dad and I have gotten pretty close since he retired." He sidles up next to me. "I got to teach my half-brother, Luke, how to fish over his Spring Break. We went to a Braves' game and ate great barbecue. I like Atlanta."

Is he saying what I think he's saying? My body burns under the x-ray vision of his eyes.

"I'll visit any time if I have a reason," he finishes with tight lips.

This is my opening to…what? Tell him that I find him as attractive, funny, warm and mine as I ever did. That all week I've dreamed of curling up in his arms and listening to him tell a wild story about his travels.

I begin, "Adam, I –"

"Yes?" He begs with his eyes, his hand sliding along the counter until it's beyond me, his arm and body caging me close to him.

"Um…" I look at the bare cookies and whimper, "I need to ice those."

Chicken .

He hangs his head, peeling himself away from me. Pained, he mutters, "Yep. Okay."

I pick up a cooling rack. He picks up a cooling rack.

I'll tell him later.

Maybe.

He follows my lead and sets the cookies out over the table.

Me and Adam at a Braves' game. Me and Adam walking through the botanical gardens. Me showing Adam where Margaret Mitchell got hit by a taxicab.

At first, I didn't think Adam wanted me, then I thought he hated me, and then I figured I wasn't enough for him. I'm not stupid. He's been flirty and consistent about it. It's just not as easy as casually getting to know each other or long-distance dating. I already know bits and pieces of him, intimately, and we have this heavy history.

Pushing him away with morning won't be the end of it, I see that now. We're roommates, a twist I didn't anticipate at dawn. Staying away from him is impossible.

I can't get into a big conversation about feelings and futures and all of that when he's about to go play a mini-concert and I need steady hands. I sigh, trying to relax my body. We can talk about it later. We have all night, one bedroom, to talk about it later. Whatever it reveals itself to be.

I clear my throat, returning to business. I pick up the green icing and trace the outline of one circle, flooding it in with color. The sides of my hair fall in the way.

"I can hold your hair back," Adam presents, pulling my hair into a ponytail he holds with one hand.

I laugh, trying to rotate my head like I need to, reaching to different cookies and coloring some of them green, some purple. "I can't move!"

"Here." He tucked the ends of my hair in the back neckline of my dress.

" Thank you ."

I paint some of the cookies with orange paint and others with yellow. I draw pumpkins and sunflowers with the icing, letting some dry while I work on others, then returning to add more detail.

Adam leans on his elbows and makes a surprised noise. " Wow , Vee. That's amazing."

I slowly add flowers and details that match the ambiance and color scheme of the inn. With a slow and steady hand, I write GEMSTONE INN to several of them with black piping.

He adds, "I've seen your stuff on Instagram and it's so good, but it's wild to see you do this in person."

"You've looked me up on Instagram?" I twist my head to see his face turn lightly pink.

" Of course ." Adam looks at his watch. "Hey, I'm going to change my clothes and head down to get ready. I told Mac I'd play a short set at 8:30ish."

"Okay."

"Are you coming down?"

"To listen to you play?" I smile at the wonder in his voice.

He straightens up. "For the first time, ever, yeah."

"It's not the first time I've heard you play music," I defy.

He sways just behind me and fixes, "The first time you'll hear one of my recorded songs. One that I put out into the world and didn't just workshop for a lovesick teenage girl in my backyard."

I laugh and pause my movements to not mess up my work. "Lovesick, my ass! I let you follow me around all summer because it was good for my self-esteem."

"Is that right?" He continues to watch me with expectation.

I answer, "Yes. And I'll be done with these soon. I'll change then meet you outside."

"I'll be busy, though, so don't think you're going to come hang out with me." He straightens up. "I'll be in professional musician mode."

"I hope that guy doesn't have too big of an ego," I say, swirling icing with a needle tool.

"It comes and goes."

I drop my tools and face him properly. "Adam, thank you. For all of this." My pulse quickens. Warmth radiates in my heart when I look at him in the kitchen he requested access to, giving me an hour of pure joy. My love language is acts of service.

"You're welcome." He takes my hand and keeps his eyes glued to mine as it raises to his lips. He kisses my knuckles and murmurs, "I'm gonna go. I've got a girl to serenade."

Chapter Thirty-Four

I leave my cookies out on the counter to dry. They won't be ready to eat until tomorrow, so I make a mental note to let Mackenzie know they're a gift for everything he's offered tonight. I run upstairs to an empty room and change into jeans and a sweatshirt, popping a quilted jacket on top.

In the garden, the fire roars, crackling and popping up to the sky.

"Vienna!" Francesca calls, waving me over to a bench. She and Alice have a flannel blanket wrapped around their bodies. The kids are already dressed in pajamas. I count roughly twenty people sitting around the fire, a few more hanging around the garden, more than one phone held up in wait.

Adam's talking to an older man sitting near him.

This should highlight the divide between us, hearing him sing. But, I'm excited. I don't feel like I'm watching a Grammy Award-winning musician right now. He just looks like Adam.

He catches my eye and smiles.

"Okay, folks," he booms. "I think it's time to get this party started." He rests his hand on his guitar strings. "What a beautiful place, right?"

Cheers and claps direct toward our host who stands beside a predatory Kate, ready to sink her teeth in.

Adam continues, "So, I've known Mackenzie for about fourteen years. We met when I first got to Nashville, and he was one of the first people to tell me I'm not going to cut it as a country singer. I tried too hard to use the Georgia accent I fought against my whole life, and I didn't write enough songs about my tractor. Because I didn't have a tractor. It would have never worked out for me."

The audience laughs. Adam runs a hand across his jaw. "I did, however, write songs about love. I had just had one big loss in that department."

My heart rate quickens.

"I had a girl, and I lost a girl, and it royally screwed me up for a long time. It still does, if I'm being honest."

I try to control my breathing. Adam keeps his eyes on the ground while he talks.

He continues, "Anyway, this song was my first big hit. My big break. It's only fitting that it's the first song I wrote about the one that got away. This song is called Should've. "

Finally, Adam meets my eye across the top of the fire. He screws his face up in a sad kind of look, shrugs half a shoulder, and fixes his guitar on his knees. Even with the blanket, the fire, and the body heat, I feel cold. He starts stringing a few chords.

I recognize those five seconds. It's the song that I immediately tune out in the grocery store, mute when it comes on the TV, and hit next on Spotify. I've never been able to listen to his smooth, warm voice. It only ever felt right just the two of us, in his backyard, up in the treehouse.

He sings, " The day I saw you, the day you left. The moment I felt you, the moment you kept. It was always yours and a million more times I felt the ceiling hit the floor.

"The sun on your face, the burn on mine. The trail of water that says it's not fine. A tiny rock I etched with my blood. And you tossed it back with others in the mud."

Voices sing quietly along with him.

"Oh, why'd you leave me? Why'd you stay? Why'd you promise? Why'd I pray?"

My cold nose begins to itch. Emotion starts to clog my throat. It's hard to keep my chest from heaving too noticeably.

"I would have, oh I did. We could have, but you said: it's hard, too hard, we're far too young, forever is a long road, what should I have done? Oh, should…you should have done."

I'm the only one who could know the meaning behind these words. It reminds me of a secret.

The secret of Adam and I, all those years ago.

He croons, "I'm grown now, far too smart, to care for empty spaces in my heart, that stop for the mountains, that cool clear lake, and the quiet sounds the haunted forest makes."

He couldn't possibly still love me after all of this time. Could he?

Could I still be in love with him?

I look away as tears begin to form. My chest physically hurts. I listen to his guitar playing quicken, the chanting of the audience picking up, the energy growing.

He sings, " Pain is a side effect of life, not choices, you'll never get to feel the freedom of joy without poison, everything hurts ‘til for a second it doesn't, nothing is perfect, no ride unchecked.

"I swear I hear you in my soul, I walked away but I'm still not whole, I take the burden of this toll that you're allowed to exist and I'm not there. I'm not there to feel it. To get it back. To see you one more time…"

I push off the blanket and stand up, blacking out everyone around me and the sounds they make. Tears stream down my face. I cover my mouth, palm the wetness of my eyes. Adam's voice hauntingly hangs in my ear.

"I would have, oh I did. We could have, but you said, It's hard, too hard, we're far too young, forever is a long road, what should I have done? Oh, should…you should have done."