Chapter 37
THIRTY-SEVEN
Eric
? The Night We Met – Lord Huron ?
Amy kept the house, and I moved in with Josh for a few weeks. With Velvet Shadows about to hit the road for another nine-month tour, finding a new place didn’t make a whole lot of sense.
Josh did his best to distract me, but the truth was, I had never been so depressed. I was barely eating, wasn’t sleeping, and hardly touched my kit—the one thing that I’d always counted on to ground me in situations that threw me for a loop.
He gave me space in the first week but still checked in on me and made sure I came out of my room, ate as much as I could stomach, and took care of myself physically. It wasn’t until week two that he really started pushing me.
“You need to talk about it,” he said, sitting next to me on the couch in his living room. It wasn’t a question.
“There’s nothing to say,” I said, shrugging.
“Come on, dude. I’ve been down this road, too. There is something to say. Get it out in the open,” he said. “I promise, it helps.”
“I just…” I said, running a hand through my hair. “I don’t know, man. I guess I just thought that if I threatened to leave, she’d choose me. That I’d…that I’d be enough.”
“Dude, you are enough,” Josh said, putting his hand on my shoulder. “You’re one of the best humans I’ve ever known, and I’m sorry that she made you feel like you weren’t good enough, but I swear, man, someday…someday you’ll find someone who knows what they have when they’re with you.”
I gave a half-hearted grunt before sinking back into the couch.
“We have three days before the tour kicks off, so let’s do something,” he said. “Let’s get out of this house and do something. Go all How Eric Got His Groove Back.”
I snorted.
“You’re an idiot,” I said.
“Seriously,” he said, getting off the couch. “Let’s go. Up, girl scout! Up! Up! Up!” He shouted like a drill sergeant, making me laugh despite how awful I felt.
I was so thankful for those few weeks with him. I had a feeling that if I hadn’t had him, I’d have gone down a very dangerous path and proven Amy’s accusations of me being a hypocrite to be very, very true.
I’d never been as happy to start a tour as I was when that one kicked off.
I was able to drown myself in the work and get back into a rhythm—the press, the meet and greets, the shows, the after parties.
Days blurred into weeks blurred into months, and four months into that nine-month U.S.
tour, I was finally feeling happy again. Finally feeling like myself.
We had a week off for the holidays, and we all flew home to see our families. I’d been so focused on Amy’s assumed sobriety and planning the wedding that I hadn’t seen my family since the night I’d asked her to marry me.
My mom had been checking in on me since I’d called to let them know I’d called it off, but there was something about being near her that broke me.
As soon as I stepped through the front door and her arms pulled me into a hug, I lost it.
Crying harder than I had in those first few weeks that I was at Josh’s.
I don’t know if I’d ever cried as much as I did that first day back at home, but when I’d finally let it all out, I felt like the weight of everything I’d been carrying finally lifted from my shoulders.
I realized that while I’d been upset when I moved in with Josh, I hadn’t given myself the space to fully grieve the loss of the relationship.
I don’t know if it was some stupid hyper-masculine urge to put on a brave face around another dude, or if the familiarity of being home made me feel safe to finally let it all go, but I was grateful for it.
My parents had left early Christmas Eve to head over to my brother’s house an hour away to help prep for the big family dinner later that night.
I was still dealing with a bit of jet lag, so I told them I just wanted to sleep until I wasn’t tired and that I’d head over when I was up and ready for the day.
I had just picked my keys up off the table by the door when my phone buzzed in my pocket. I slid it out and looked down to see a number I didn’t recognize, but much like the day Amy had called me before she went to rehab, I felt a pull to answer.
“Eric?” I heard a soft female voice on the other end say. It was familiar, but I couldn’t place it right away.
“Yeah?”
“Hey, it’s Beth.” Amy’s manager. My heart dropped to my feet.
“What happened?”
“It’s…” she trailed off.
“Beth, what happened?” I said, the fingers on my free hand curling into a fist at my side.
“It’s Amy. She’s…” I heard Beth’s voice break, and I knew. I knew before she even said the words. I dropped to my knees in my parents’ living room.
Amy was gone.