Total pages in book: 93
Estimated words: 87950 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87950 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 440(@200wpm)___ 352(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
“I never thought of it that way.” Sawyer chuckled. “Too late to back out?”
“Not a chance, mister,” Jake said, reaching out and placing a firm hand on Sawyer’s shoulder. “You’re stuck with me I’m afraid.”
“Well congrats, guys. I’m so totally fucking proud of you both.”
Silence followed as we all sipped the coffees Jake had made. Matt appeared to be waning. The tears had dried, leaving puffy red eyes in their wake and his movements were growing weaker by the minute. My own encounter with losing someone told me Matt would be most comfortable in his own home, surrounded by familiar things, right now. I imagined he’d want to inhale the scent of his own pillow as it soaked up the tears that would likely fall throughout the night, and I knew the last thing he’d need was to wake up in someone else’s house and feel the need to put on a brave face.
So, after draining my coffee cup, I made short work of driving Matt home. He remained a little unsteady on his feet and I supported him by keeping an arm around his waist while he sluggishly tackled the stairs to his bedroom. When he reached the bed he flopped straight down, fully clothed, onto the mattress before kicking his sneakers off onto the floor. Once he was settled, I went to the en-suite bathroom and grabbed some aspirin from the mirrored cabinet and a glass of water for him. When he saw me return he groaned at the idea of having to swallow anymore liquid, but like earlier in the evening, I forced the glass into his hand. Propping himself up on one elbow, he plucked the pills from my hand and, after sighing, glugged them down with a generous swig of water.
“It won’t always hurt this much,” I said quietly, setting the half-empty glass on the nightstand, but I’d already lost him to sleep. Bending forward, I placed a gentle kiss on his forehead, and my own tears found their opportunity to escape. “G’night, buddy.”
When the day of Mrs. Carter’s funeral arrived, I hoped this would be the first day of Matt learning to move forward without his mom. When anyone you love passes away, the days between their death and the funeral are always the most difficult. You’re living in limbo – reeling from the loss yet having to wait to say the official goodbye that allows you to start healing. It brought back memories that still haunted my dreams some nights, pain that I’d often considered sharing with Matt but always decided it was better off staying buried. It didn’t hurt as much that way.
After securing the knot in my black tie, I went in search of Matt. I’d been staying with him since the night of the engagement party and every single day, seeing him so vulnerable, made my heart break afresh. This week I’d witnessed a whole new side to my best friend. I always knew he had a gentle heart hidden beneath his arrogance but I didn’t know until now just how fragile it was, too.
I eventually found him in his music room, pounding his grief into the drums. The volume startled my ears as I broke the soundproof barrier by opening the padded door, causing me to stumble, but he didn’t see me right away. For a moment I just watched him, my eyes honing in on the pain flooding his beautiful face. The beat was powerful, his skills leaving my mouth agape in awe. If I closed my eyes I could’ve been at a sold-out concert anywhere in the world, listening to one of this decade’s most talented musicians. Only if you were able to be this close, to be able to look right into his eyes, his soul, would you realize how broken he was right now.
Matt’s eyes locked onto mine as he caught me standing in the doorway and with a flex of his wrists he tossed his drumsticks up into the air, catching them again with one hand.
“People will be arriving soon,” I told him. “Are you ready?”
“No,” he admitted, setting his drumsticks down and standing from his stool. “But let’s get this shit over with.”
Only a handful of close friends and Matt’s family - Ashley and Adam - were coming here and travelling in the processional cars with us. The church service was strictly invite only, but judging the security cameras which surrounded Matt’s house, that didn’t seem to stop the entire world thinking they were welcome. The monitors showed a herd of photographers camping outside the perimeter of the property, scurrying around like vermin, eager to catch a glimpse of a man about to bury his mother.
But this was his life. It was too easy to forget that Matt was a celebrity sometimes. I could barely remember the Matt I used to ‘know’. The rockstar I would see plastered on the front pages of glossy magazines, the womanizer that flooded the gossip sites or the wayward, drunken, media magnet with women drooling at his feet that Ryder introduced me to.