28. Luca
TWENTY-EIGHT
Luca
When McKenzie disconnected our call, the last thread tying me to the earth snapped. I started to call someone else—maybe Dallas or Cash—but I didn’t deserve their words of comfort. I wasn’t worthy of the excuses they’d inevitably make to help me feel better about the person I was. The piece of shit I knew I’d always be at my core. There was no righting the amount of wrongs I’d caused in my life. It was best for everyone if I just disappeared quietly into the night.
The walls of the hobbit house were closing in on me, squeezing the air from my lungs. I packed what shit I had there, which wasn’t much more than some clothes and my guitar. The squirrel McKenzie had given to me was the last thing I grabbed, but in the end, I left him along with my key. The last thing I needed was another reminder of the ways I’d failed the woman I loved.
I turned the lock and shut the door, leaving behind every hope and counterfeit dream that place had held. But even as I walked away, that suffocating feeling followed me into the car. My old demon friends had returned…or maybe they’d never left. Either way, they were unwilling to let me cast them aside.
There wasn’t a lot of traffic on my drive back to Kentucky, but my mind was filled with noise. An endless assault of thoughts and questions shot through my brain, hitting me with punch after punch.
Why did I ever think I could amount to anything more than a fuckup? I wasn’t a changed man. I hadn’t healed. All I’d managed to do was slap bandages over gaping wounds. Except I wasn’t the one being injured. I was the cause of the damage, and the longer I stuck around, the more I risked those I loved bleeding out.
It started with canceling me, but the aftermath would be felt by McKenzie, Laurel, Grace, and anyone else connected to me. Because people would wonder why they stood by me. I couldn’t ask them to stake their reputations on mine. I wouldn’t . But more than that, I didn’t want to stick around long enough for them to begin to question why they were still putting up with me. At least if I left on my own, I could still maintain some illusion of control instead of the devastation I’d feel if— when —they finally had enough and walked away.
I’d been looking at my musical comeback as a second chance, but that couldn’t have been further from the truth. I’d squandered hundreds of chances and spit on every opportunity I’d been handed for years. Having everything I could have hoped for dangled in front of me, only to have it slip through my fingers, felt like a penance for every ounce of potential I’d thrown away. It was nowhere near the punishment I deserved, but it was a start.
Even though music blared through the speakers, the monsters had taken control of the playlist inside my mind, blasting McKenzie’s words on a loop. No matter how loud I turned up the volume on the radio, I couldn’t drown them out.
I won’t be there to hold your hand through everything.
She was right, of course. I’d been so wrapped up in the prospect of a tour, of having my own music career, that I hadn't stopped to consider what that meant for us . What would happen if I went on the road or if one album became two or three or five? I’d assumed she’d be there beside me. I hadn’t even considered the possibility of her not being there because what kind of relationship would that have been? Dozens of missed phone calls and sorry-I-missed-you ’s. Birthdays, anniversaries, and holidays celebrated apart. More time spent away from each other than together. I’d been too caught up in my own selfish desires to ask what she wanted. And she deserved more than that. She deserved more than me .
She needed someone who’d put her first, who wouldn’t drag her down, who understood how to love someone selflessly. McKenzie knew how to do that. She lifted me up and cheered me on from the very beginning. But I’d been so caught up in how good it felt to be wanted, respected, and loved that I’d failed the one person I felt those things for. I took her for granted. Just as I’d done with every other good thing in my life.
She was better off without me. Everyone was. She deserved an explanation or at least a goodbye, but I’d just have to add that to the long list of things I wasn’t capable of giving her.
It was nearly 2 a.m. by the time I made it back to my place in Kentucky and climbed out of my car. The bitter cold would have been enough to freeze me to my bones if I wasn’t made of ice already. I gathered my things and stepped inside, not bothering to turn the lights on. I left my bags by the front door and dropped onto the sofa, lying on my side. The cushions enveloped me in a musty greeting of dust and stale air.
Even in the absence of light, I sensed the shadows creeping closer. I felt their breath, hot against my skin, as they crawled back inside me where they belonged. My eyes drifted closed, and I sighed with relief as the darkness welcomed me home.
A loud thudding echoed in my ears, jolting me awake. It was like someone was banging their fist against the walls of my skull.
Jesus. I can’t even get peace in my sleep. I grabbed a throw pillow and crushed it to my face as I squeezed my eyes shut again
“Luca, open up,” a deep, muffled voice called.
“We know you’re in there,” another added, this one soft and sweet.
I bolted upright. Dallas and Katie?
Boom, boom, boom. The pounding wasn’t coming from inside my head—it was coming from my front door.
“Come on, man,” Dallas said. “Let us in. We want to help.”
The events of the hours before washed over me in an endless pour, as if every moment I wished I could take back was waterboarding me. I had no idea what time it was, but the darkness inside said it was still nighttime.
“Dude, don’t think I won’t rip this door off its hinges,” Dallas bellowed again.
I trudged over to the door and opened it, finding my friends’ worried faces staring back at me, Emilia clutched in Katie’s arms. She wagged her tail when she saw me.
“What are you doing here?” I asked, blinking in disbelief.
“I believe we could ask you the same thing,” Katie answered. “Can we come in?”
I nodded and stepped aside, allowing them to cross over the threshold.
Seconds later, the living room was bathed in light with Katie’s hand hovering over the switch.
I squinted as my vision adjusted and pushed my fingers through my hair.
“What time is it?” I asked.
“Almost four in the morning,” Dallas replied, moving over to the sofa and sitting down. “We came as soon as McKenzie’s friend called Katie. What happened, man?”
“Wait. McKenzie’s friend?” I shook my head and looked from Dallas to Katie. “Why would her friend call you?”
Katie shot Dallas a glare and swallowed hard before gesturing toward the couch.
“Come sit down.” She placed a hand on my arm, guiding me across the room as she set Emilia on the floor.
“Why did McKenzie’s friend call you?” I asked again, taking a seat between them.
“We’ll get to that,” Dallas said. “But right now, we want to know what’s going on with you.”
“Just google my name.” I folded my arms over my chest. “That’ll tell you everything.”
Dallas nodded. “We saw. But…why did you leave like that? You didn’t tell anyone. McKenzie showed up at your house and you weren’t there. Grace got a single-sentence email from you, calling off the album and the tour. We all tried your cell, but it went to voicemail every time.”
I released a slow exhale. “I shut it off.”
“We were worried sick,” Katie said, touching my shoulder. “Why didn’t you call one of us? We would have been there.”
“I know.” I stared straight ahead at an invisible spot on the wall. “But I didn’t want you to be.”
“Why not?” Katie asked.
“Because I don’t fucking deserve it, all right?” I said, rising to my feet. “Everything they’re saying about me online? It’s all true. Every bit of it.”
Dallas leaned forward, his elbows on his knees. “I really don’t think that’s the case. Maybe there’s a few kernels of truth, but a couple crappy stories don’t tell everything there is to know about you.”
“What about Brandi?” I asked, throwing up my hands. “I don’t remember much about that night because I was so shit-faced, but what I do know is, I was enough of an asshole to cause Ella to throw her water on me. I wasn’t a good guy, Dallas. I’m still not a good guy.”
“You’re wrong,” Katie insisted, her eyes glossy with unshed tears. “Remember the night of Jo’s big event for Project NENA when I was so sick and she didn’t want to leave me alone? You were the one that came and stayed with me. You didn’t just keep me company, either—you took care of me.”
“You were there when we took Katie to the hospital,” Dallas added. “You didn’t have to go, and you certainly didn’t have to stay, but you did.”
“Those were two incidents over the course of years ,” I argued.
“But there are more where that came from,” Dallas said. “So, you’ve made some bad choices in the past. Done or said shit you regret. Who hasn’t? Have you forgotten what a dick I was back when Derek wanted to leave the band? Or the fact that I blamed Jo for it all because I didn’t want to see the truth?”
“That’s different,” I said, pacing the floor.
“Only because it’s not out there on the damn internet for everyone to see,” he said. “Luca, we all fuck up. We say or do things we wish we could take back. But most people don’t have to do it in front of the whole goddamn world. You need to give yourself a break.”
“This is exactly why I didn’t call you. I knew you’d do this—make excuses for me,” I shouted, my fists clenched at my sides. “Don’t you get it? There’s no fucking excuse. For every bad story out there about me right now, there’s ten more that are worse that nobody will ever know about. But I know.”
“You’re holding yourself to impossible standards.” Katie’s voice was soft. “Your mistakes don’t define you. They’re not who you are.”
“The fuck they’re not,” I yelled, whirling to face them. “That’s all I am. A mistake. My own parents knew it, I know it, and I think deep down you all know it too. I’m not good .”
Tears spilled down Katie’s cheeks as she jumped to her feet and gripped my arms.
“You are not a mistake.” She punctuated every word. “Do you hear me? And anyone who thinks that doesn’t know what they’re talking about.”
Tears blurred my vision. “ I think that.”
“Then you need to take some time to get to know the man I have the honor of calling one of my best friends.” Her voice broke. “If you could see what I see…what we all see. You are magic, Luca Sterling. Your thorns are part of what makes you so magnificent. Because even in spite of them, you bloomed.”
I blinked, sending tracks of salt water down my cheeks.
“She’s right, you know.” Dallas rose to join us. “We love you, brother.”
“Damn right, we do,” Katie said as they enveloped me, my body shaking with emotion as I clung to them. I felt like I was free-falling, and they were my emergency parachute—deployed just in the nick of time.
“No more running,” Dallas said, squeezing me tighter. “Let us help you.”
“Please,” Katie whispered. “We can’t lose you.”
I wept so hard I could hardly breathe. Once again, I’d proven myself unworthy, but they didn’t care. They wanted me around, even with my flaws and glaring imperfections. Despite the years of hurt and disappointment I’d caused. They saw something that warranted saving. And if they weren’t willing to give up on me, maybe I could hang on a little longer.
One cup at a time.
“Okay,” I choked out.
“Listen, you need to get some rest,” Dallas said. “Let’s crash, and we’ll talk more in the morning.”
I pulled back, using the neck of my shirt to wipe my face. “You guys don’t have to stay. I’m not a flight risk. Not anymore. You need to get Emilia home.”
“We packed an overnight bag.” Katie squeezed my arm. “We’re not going anywhere.”
“I’ll go grab our stuff,” Dallas said, heading toward the door.
“Then you two take my bed. Down the hall, first door on the left,” I insisted as Dallas stepped outside. “I’ll stay out here. I’d offer you the guest room, but the only things in there are a few boxes and an old dresser. I never got around to furnishing it because…well, because I never really wanted anyone to visit.”
“But you don’t have to give up your—” Katie started to argue, but I cut her off.
“With your MS, you need a bed. I’m taking the couch.”
She nodded her agreement as she knelt to scoop up Emilia. “All right.”
Seconds later, Dallas returned with a duffel slung over his shoulder.
He clapped me on the back. “We’ll be in the bedroom if you need anything.”
“Wait a second,” I said. “You never answered me before. Why did McKenzie’s friend call you?”
Katie’s gaze dropped to the floor.
My stomach tied itself in knots. “What is it?”
“McKenzie had a panic attack when she realized you were gone,” Katie replied. “That’s why her friend Kia called.”
The realization of what I’d done collided with me head-on. Of course, she’d panicked. After what she’d been through with Brennan, she was probably terrified.
“Fuck,” I muttered, my hand covering my mouth.
“She’s all right,” Katie interjected before I had the chance to spiral any further. “She’s shaken up, but she’s okay. I talked to Kia again on the way here. Her mom is staying with her.”
“Thank God,” I said, immediately searching my pockets for my phone. “I should call her. I need to tell her I’m sorry.”
Dallas held out a hand to stop me. “There’ll be plenty of time for that. Right now, you need to take care of yourself.”
“And I think she may need a little time. This brought up a lot for her. Give her a day or two to process,” Katie added. “Kia said she’d touch base with me later. I’ll tell her to let McKenzie know you’re thinking about her.”
I swallowed hard and nodded, reaching out to scruff the top of Emilia's ears.
“Do you mind if she stays with me?” I asked. “The company might be nice.”
“Of course.” Katie gave me a faint smile as she passed her to me. “I think she’d like that.”
“Hey there, Princess Piss-a-lot,” I said as she settled into my arms.
“Good night.” Katie’s eyes lingered on me a moment before she and Dallas started toward my room.
“Night,” I called after them.
I moved to the sofa, then set Emilia on the cushion before shrugging off my jacket and tossing it aside. When I laid back, the little dog wagged her tail before climbing onto my chest to give me a gentle lick on the nose.
“Thanks, girl,” I said, stroking her ear as she curled herself into a ball on my stomach.
There was something comforting about her presence. She was no stranger to rejection, either. She’d been abandoned by the person who was supposed to love her the most. It was a feeling I understood on a cellular level. I hadn’t been in a place to give the dog the home she needed, but I knew Dallas and Katie could. And though I tried to pretend I didn’t, I cared about her. I just knew I couldn’t be everything she needed—everything she deserved .
I looked at Emilia where she lay on me: safe, happy, and most of all, loved. Dallas and Katie were her people, but she also had a family that extended beyond them in me, McKenzie, and all of our friends. Maybe it wouldn’t make up for the neglect she’d suffered, but despite the odds, she was thriving.
And maybe one day, I could too.
“I’m glad you’re here.” Lacey settled into her armchair while I sat on the couch in her office late Sunday afternoon. I’d kept my phone off other than the three minutes it took me to send Lacey an email asking for her first available session and leaving Katie’s number as my contact. She was also giving me updates on McKenzie. I didn’t want to be tempted to open social media or Google until I was in a better headspace, so I avoided it altogether. Lacey called soon after I sent the message and told me to meet her at 5 p.m.
“You didn’t have to come in on your day off,” I said, staring straight ahead at one of the colorful paintings on her wall. It was a field of wildflowers, but one stood bigger and brighter than the rest. My mind immediately recalled an image of McKenzie the night we danced together at the My Chemical Romance cover band show. The night that I’d later found out was the anniversary of Brennan’s passing.
Guilt crawled over me like a spider. It felt like a small tickle at first, a harmless itch begging to be scratched, only for me to look down and find a black widow ready to strike and fill my blood with poison.
“I was already planning to come in and do some charting.” She reached for the bottle of water on the table beside her, and the sleeve of her sweater inched up, revealing her semicolon tattoo.
“McKenzie has one of those.” I gestured toward her exposed ink. “Behind her ear. She…told me what it means. She got it after she thought about ending her life, when she realized she wanted to keep living and that her story wasn’t finished yet.”
She nodded and gave me a sad smile.
“You know what it’s like, don’t you?” I asked. “To feel like this. You’ve been there.”
She didn’t speak, and her face gave nothing away.
“And if I had to guess, I’d say you weren’t actually coming in to do charting. You came in because you’ve been the one sitting where I am.”
“I had charting to do,” she said with a shrug. “Now, let’s talk about why you’re here.”
I lifted my brows. “Because you were already coming in today to do some charting. Allegedly .”
She narrowed her eyes and took a sip of her water before placing it back on the table.
“You’re really not going to tell me, are you?” I asked.
She placed her notepad on her lap and a pen in her hand.
“Why are you here today, Luca?” she asked softly.
I sighed and dropped my head back against the cushion. “If you’ve been online or turned on your television in the past twenty-four hours, then you probably already know the answer to that question. You’ve seen what everyone’s saying about me.”
Once again, her face gave nothing away.
Geez, she should take up poker.
“I’m familiar with what people are saying online.” Lacey crossed one leg over the other. “But I’m more interested in what you have to say.”
I picked at a frayed thread on my jeans, not meeting her gaze.
“I’m getting what I deserve,” I answered, my voice barely above a whisper. “It feels like retribution for the shitty person I’ve been.”
“Is that really what you think?” she asked.
“A lot of the things coming out about me are true,” I admitted. “Like that Brandi girl whose name I couldn’t even remember. She was right. I didn’t care about her. Hell, I barely cared about myself. For a long time, there was nothing but a revolving door of nameless, faceless women and an endless supply of liquor and whatever else I could get my hands on. Anything to numb the pain. And then I had the nerve to put myself out there like I was some role model for mental health and not the train wreck I actually am. I’m a fucking fraud. I don’t deserve for people to look up to me, let alone love me.”
“Did you put yourself out there as a role model, or did other people give you that title and you felt you had to live up to it?” she asked.
“What difference does it make?”
“It’s hard enough to manage our own expectations of ourselves, but trying to live up to everyone else’s at the same time?” She paused, allowing her words to settle over me. “That sounds pretty impossible, don’t you think?”
I blinked. “Okay. Maybe I didn’t claim to be anything, but when I started sharing my personal experiences, I became one—whether I wanted to be or not.”
She steepled her fingers in her lap. “And you think that means you can no longer mess up? Not only that, but you also can’t have messed up ever in your life because…what? Because people who make mistakes don’t deserve anything good?”
I pushed my tongue onto the roof of my mouth. Well, when you put it like that.
“You’re dealing in absolutes. Black or white. Either or,” she continued. “And when you try to place human beings in these finite categories, you’ll be disappointed every single time. People are nothing if not the gray areas in between. We are living proof that multiple things can be true at the same time. You can make mistakes and be a good person. You can feel better and still not be healed.”
I barked out a dry laugh. “I know I’m nowhere near healed. I’m not sure I’d even say I’m better.”
“You’re not giving yourself enough credit. You’ve made a lot of progress, but you did what many people do when that fog starts to lift. You stopped devoting that time to yourself and fell into old habits when things got difficult. And for you, that means distancing yourself from those you love.”
“I tried to call McKenzie first,” I confessed. “When I saw that shit online…I panicked. I called her and begged her to come to me. I felt like the walls were closing in, and she was the only person who could take that away.”
“And what did she say? Did she come to you?”
I shook my head. “She was working, and I knew it, but I still selfishly asked her to ditch what she was doing for me. She was frustrated because she was dealing with stress of her own, and she asked me what I would do if something like this happens while I’m on the road.”
“That’s a fair question, but you weren’t selfish to reach out and ask for help,” Lacey said. “Just as it wasn’t selfish of her to not be in a place to hold space for you at that moment. Again, two things can be true at once. Did you ask anyone else for help?”
“No. I freaked out. When she turned me away, even though I didn’t blame her for it…it triggered something inside me. I…I was afraid.”
She leaned forward, her elbows on her knees. “What were you afraid of?”
“Being abandoned,” I answered. “I was scared everyone would leave me because I…I’m not good enough. Because I’m not worth the fucking trouble. But…my friends came looking for me. I wasn’t in Kentucky long before they showed up.”
“I thought you said you didn’t call anyone else. How did they know to come to you?”
“McKenzie called them,” I answered. “Actually, it was her friend. McKenzie showed up at my place in Tennessee looking for me, and when she saw I was gone, she had a panic attack. Which was my fault.”
“You can’t blame yourself. You were doing what you needed to do at that moment to survive,” she said. “The situation might have stirred up a lot of emotions for her, but she also has her own previous trauma that formed her response.”
“That may be, but it doesn’t make me feel any better.”
She gave me a faint smile. “See? Two things can be true.”
“I’m afraid I ruined our relationship,” I said, my voice breaking. “I was so terrified she’d leave me that I let it become this self-fulfilling prophecy. And I guess when I think about it, that’s what I’ve always done. I walk away before anyone has the chance to walk away from me.”
“It’s not uncommon for people to do the very thing they’re afraid of others doing to them. It’s a defense mechanism. But you being able to recognize the pattern? That’s growth.”
“But how do I stop an instinct that comes to me as easily as breathing?”
“It may never stop. At least not fully,” she answered. “It takes time and building up your arsenal of tools to cope. The only person you can rely on to aid your healing is you. Yes, you need a support system. Having loved ones you can count on is vital, but if you’re constantly seeking validation and comfort from outside sources, you’ll never be truly satisfied. Your contentment can’t come from others. It has to come from you, because you’re the only one who will always be there.”
“I don’t know if I can ever be happy with myself.”
“You spent years collecting reasons to believe you’re not worthy of love. Those don’t go away overnight,” she said. “You have to take it one step at a time.”
One cup at a time.
“Why don’t we start by coming up with three things you can work on over the next week to improve your relationship with yourself?” she suggested. “Things you can do to increase your self-trust.”
“Like what?”
“What if you start by committing to weekly sessions for the next month and following up with your psychiatrist? Does that sound doable?”
I nodded. “Yeah, but I think I need something…I don’t know…bigger?”
She tapped the tip of her pen to her notebook. “Well, you seem to be carrying around a lot of guilt and shame about some of your previous actions. Is there anyone you feel you owe an apology? I tend to think accountability is where self-awareness and self-compassion intersect. Taking ownership of our actions is an important part of our internal growth. You’re holding on to so much blame. It might help you to find forgiveness.”
My stomach clenched like a fist. “And if they can’t forgive me?”
“Maybe you could try forgiving yourself,” she replied.
I tried to swallow, but my throat felt dry. “I guess I can try.”
“That’s two things,” she said. “What else could you do to better your relationship with yourself?”
I pressed my palms together in front of my lips as I pondered the question. The task felt almost inconceivable. How could I ever—
The wheels of my mind clicked into place. The answer had been in front of me all along, but I hadn’t believed in myself enough to really try. I’d been so afraid of rejection, of being left, that I’d always kept one foot out the door, ready to run at any moment. But without an escape hatch at my disposal, I’d have to start trusting not only myself but those I loved. Selling my place in Kentucky was the ultimate trust fall.
I didn’t even know if I’d have McKenzie to return to, and that scared me. But it was all the more reason to take the leap. I couldn’t let my fears keep holding me back from the good things in life. The people I loved. A second chance at a career in music. Finding peace.
“You look like you’ve thought of something,” Lacey said, her gaze piqued with curiosity.
I nodded. “Yeah, I did.”
“What is it?”
My words came out shaky, belying the conviction I felt. “I’m moving to Nashville.”