Chapter 59
Chapter fifty-nine
Hendrix · Now
Helena – My Chemical Romance
The trickle of keys cuts through the quiet of the studio, followed by a sweet, lyrical giggle.
My steps falter.
I pull in a breath and follow the sound to the live room.
Peering through the crack in the door, my stomach swoops.
Cole sits poised over the piano, a tiny human cuddled in his lap. His fingers skate over the black and white keys, drawing a beautiful melody from the instrument.
I’ve always loved watching him play. There’s something majestic about the way he commands the instrument beneath his fingers.
A note rings out, echoing through the room and out the door, before only quiet remains.
Then a soft, little voice pitches up. “Again, Uncle Coley.”
Air grows thick in my lungs.
Cole tugs at one of her curls. “You’re needy today Melly.”
My hand tightens around my guitar case. I half expect him to shoo her away and close the door, leaving her in silence. Only he doesn’t.
Because of course he doesn’t.
He repositions her in his lap, before diving straight back into a new melody.
My pulse thrums, my heart skipping a beat.
He isn’t just sharing music with her. He’s building it for her.
Weaving a medley of his favourite songs all because she asked.
I draw in a slow breath, take a step back, and force myself away from the door as footsteps sound behind me.
I spin, finding Carter watching me. “Hey.”
“Hey.” He shifts his weight, his expression impassive. “I was just coming to find you. Are you busy?”
I peer into the live room again, air catching in my throat as Cole guides little fingers beneath his over the keys.
We’re supposed to be nailing down the last couple tracks for the album today before finalising the songs we already have. But there’s no way I’m pulling him away from this moment.
I turn to Carter.
“Depends.” I tilt my head. “You got any more secrets kids you wanna throw at me? Not sure my nervous system can handle it this early in the morning.”
He inhales a short breath, then releases it slowly. “I deserve that.”
“Little bit.” The corner of my mouth tugs up as I slip past him and ease the lounge room door open.
“No more kids,” he says, stepping in after me. “Promise.”
I flick the lights on, drop my guitar case onto the couch, and pop the kettle on. “You want a drink?”
“I’ll sort it.” He nudges me out the way as he grabs two mugs down from the highest shelf. “Your tea skills are less than desirable.”
I snort. “You sound like Cole. The man won’t let me near the kettle when he’s around.”
“Too right. Death by Yorkshire Tea is not the way to go.”
I bump him with my shoulder. “Piss off. I make a great cuppa these days.”
“I’ll have to take your word for it.” He cups my shoulder and steers me to the sofa.
I drop down, cross my legs on the cushion, and settle my Hummingbird into my lap while he dithers about with the tea.
I twist the tuners, popping my lips as my mind swirls with a million and one different questions. “Hey, Cart.”
“Yeah.”
“Question.”
“Answer.”
“Ha,” I deadpan, plucking a low C. “Will you tell me something?”
“Anything.”
“How in the fuck did you get Noah Pierce to shag you in a port-a-potty?”
A spoon clanks against ceramic as he drops it with a hissed curse.
I twist on the couch, settling into the arm of the couch, as water splashes on the floor. A wide grin curls my lips. It’s not the most pressing question I could ask. But I don’t want to push him about his children.
His story is his alone.
If he wants to fill me in on the details, he’ll do it when he’s ready.
“Fuck me, Rix.” He barks a laugh. “Age hasn’t changed you at all, has it?”
“Nope.”
He shakes his head as he grabs the mugs. “Truth? We were both hammered. Too much vodka, too little inhibition. It was just a one-night thing that wound up changing my entire life.”
“But you two aren’t together, right?” I ask as he peels the guitar from my hands and replaces it with a warm, white mug.
Steam curls over the rim, trailing up my cheeks when I blow into it.
“Nah. We never clicked like that.” Carter drops down next to me and props his boot clad feet on the coffee table.
“We’re great friends now, she’s probably my best friend if we’re being honest. But nothing romantic.
It works better that way. Between juggling tours, the girls, there’s not a lot of time to worry about a relationship and all the drama that comes with it. ”
“I’m sure relationships aren’t all bad.”
“Says the woman living her own dramatic romance tale.”
I huff a tired laugh. “You got me there. Not a great example, am I?”
“I dunno.” He sinks deeper into the couch and presses his shoulder to mine. “Of all the couples I know, the relationship you and Cole have is the one I’d want my girls to aspire for when they’re seventy and finally allowed to date.”
“But I left him.”
“You came back.”
“I wasn’t planning to.”
He hums, non-committal. “You were gonna come back one day.” He looks at me then with a smirk. “He just beat you to the punch.”
“How can you be so sure?” Fuck knows I’m not.
“I’ve heard about those walls of yours, Rix. There’s no way you were staying away forever.”
Maybe he’s right. Maybe he’s not.
I honestly don’t know what I would have done had more years gone by without Cole coming home.
I inhale a slow breath and sip my tea. “You’re not gonna let your girls date until they’re seventy?”
“Changing the topic, huh?”
I wrinkle my nose and ignore him. “Seventy? Really?”
“Maybe forty, if they’re lucky.”
“God, you’re gonna be insufferable when they’re teens.” I chuckle. “You were bad enough with me, and I wasn’t your own flesh and blood.”
“You were as good as.”
I drop my head onto his shoulder. “I missed you, Carter.”
“I missed you too, kiddo.” He tugs at my hair, before throwing an arm over my shoulder, and pulling me into his chest. “No more running, yeah?”
“No more running.”
His warmth curls around me, his steady breaths stir my hair, and the sweet, earthy taste of tea lingers on my tongue.
I close my eyes, relishing in just one easy moment in the midst of all the chaos. Relaxing into him, the world dims around me, becoming nothing but a dull hum.
He eases the mug from my hands, and places it on the table before settling back into the couch and hugging me close.
His chest rises softly.
The rhythmic beat of his heart soothes my whirring mind and lulls me into a quiet, dark place where the path I know I need to take doesn’t loom so heavily ahead.
The harsh crash of a cymbal startles me awake.
I lurch off the couch and fall to the floor, landing hard on my arse.
My temples pulse, my eyes straining against the bright lights. My back twinges as I sit up.
One day I’ll remember sofa sleeping isn’t good for my aging body.
Clearly today isn’t that day.
I push myself upright and sway as my sleep-addled brain struggles to catch up.
A booming floor tom sounds from beyond the lounge.
I snatch the crumpled blanket up and fold it over the back of the couch before following the sound on unsteady feet to the live room where I’m greeted by a cacophony of noise.
Loud chatter. Guitar strings plucked. A piano tickled. Drums smashed. Music rolling through the speakers, vibrating the floor.
I scrub my eyelids, half expecting the scene to change when I blink them open.
It doesn't.
Cole spots me first from his perch behind the drum kit.
Sparks sear through me when his face lights up with a beaming grin.
Lithe fingers coax the sticks in his grips into a series of rolls and flicks before they crash over the toms, his hands nothing but a blur through the air.
He so rarely plays, I’d almost forgotten he could.
I step over the threshold, stumbling back as the air is knocked out of me. “Woah.”
“Terror attack!” Axel swoops in, lifting up the miniature human attempting to Koala herself to my legs.
Pretty sure this one is Lyric—maybe.
I don't actually know how I’m supposed to tell the identical twins apart if they aren’t talking. The five-minute greeting yesterday didn’t exactly give me pointers considering I could barely see through the dull haze of tears.
The music quietens in the room, the chatter cutting off in an instant.
Axel hooks the girl onto his waist, but she pushes her arms out and waves grabby hands at me.
I scan the room, noting Carter, Saint, and Cole watching me.
I catch my lip stud between my teeth, flexing my fingers at my side.
Are they waiting for me to hold her? Or silently asking me to turn her down gently?
I feel a light press on my fingers.
I tip my head down as the second twin holds the back of her palm to mine.
“Hi, Auntie Rixie,” she says quietly, twirling a curl around her index finger.
Definitely Melody.
“Hi,” I breathe. My chest cracks open as the corner of her lips tugs up. I drop to my haunches, keeping my voice low as I ask her, “What do I do here?”
She bounces a sparkly shoe off the floor. “I don’t know. Whatever you want.”
“Is that so?” A soft smile curls my lips, as I watch the little girl. She reminds me of Riley in her quietness. “Well, what do you do in here?”
She suckles on her thumb as she trains her gaze on the double-silver ring looping my nose. “We play music.”
I glance at Lyric then, who still waits with outstretched arms. Before I can overthink it again, I reach out for her.
Axel hands her over without fanfare, before stepping back.
I plant myself on the floor and cross my legs.
Lyric nestles into the gap, head dropping against my chest, caramel curls tickling my nose, while Melody drops to the floor and mirrors my position.
“Can I play music with you?” I keep my voice low, for the two little humans only. “Would that be okay, do you think?”
Melody bobs her head while Lyric speaks. “You play guitar.”
I grin. “I do.”
“Better than Uncle Saint.” Lyric says.
I chuckle at her statement, the knots in my gut easing. “I don’t know if I’d say that. Your uncle Saint is one the greatest guitarist’s I’ve ever known.”
“You know a lot of them?” Melody asks, shuffling until her little thigh is pressed against mine.
“A few, yeah. I work with a ton of musicians.” I smile down at her. “And I’ve been playing a pretty long, so I know a thing or two about it.”
“Can you teach us?” Melody slurs around her thumb.
“To play the guitar?” I twist to face her as Lyric curls her arms around my neck and squeezes. Melody nods. I tap my fingers on my thigh. “I can try, maybe. I’m pretty rusty these days, not sure I have much to offer you.”
Saint scoffs as he slides along the floor and sits next to Melody. “Auntie Rix is being silly. She’s still the single greatest guitarist I’ve ever known.”
My chest thumps at his words.
“You always say that,” Lyric says.
“Because it’s true,” Axel pipes up, lifting her off and swinging her onto his shoulders.
He digs his fingers into her waist, pulling squeaky, breathless giggles from her. Saint tugs free one of Melody’s messy braids and retwists it. Carter watches from his perch on the wall, a smile curving his lips.
Then my gaze collides with Cole and everything blurs.
His face is bright, eyes alive with wonder as he watches me.
I swallow down the lump in my throat as my heart drops.
I could have had this—this room, this feeling, this love for ten years—and I threw it all away.
For what?