This One is Too

Chapter Fourteen

Hudson

The flight back to Atlanta was excruciating. I didn't realize how much pain I was in until I had to sit upright, and still, for four and a half hours. Even in first class, there is only so much comfortability one can get on a plane.

I begged Amelia and Dave to go back to their families, but they both insisted on staying with me for at least a couple weeks.

I'm thankful to have people who care, but I feel bad they're missing out on a break because of me.

I pop two Ibuprofen and sink into the SUV sent to pick us up from the airport.

"Are you sure you don't need a painkiller?"

"No, Amelia. I told you I don't want one."

"Okay."

She knows a little about my history, but not much. She thinks I'm being hardheaded by not taking the pain pills. I refuse to let myself slip into an addiction if I can help it. I didn't come this far to turn into my mother.

We pull up outside my apartment complex and I wear the same sunglasses and baseball hat I wore in the airport to somewhat disguise myself.

I have a home out in Los Angeles, too, and that's where I spent a lot of my time when I'm not on tour.

For whatever reason, though, I couldn't bring myself to let go of my apartment.

I could blame it on Rylie, but it'd be nothing to book a hotel when I visit her.

I could blame it on the sentimental value of being the first thing I bought with the money I made from music.

But I know why I keep it.

She's everywhere in here, and it equally hurts and comforts me.

Josie is in every corner of this place. From the couch where we'd nap or binge movies. To the kitchen where she'd make coffee and sing while cooking breakfast. To the bathtub where she loved to soak in the bubbles and sip wine. To the bed where we had the best sex I've ever had and laid awake talking about our plans.

Josie is in every thread and every memory.

Maybe it's from being uncomfortable on the plane, or being jetlagged, but needles prick at my throat and I choke back tears. I don't cry often and I don't enjoy doing it. But today the thought of Josie makes me feel worse than I have in a long time.

She left me again, when I needed her most. If she would've stuck around and been there for me after being shot, maybe there would've been a chance for us to workout whatever the hell was going on.

You were never going to be enough for me.

I sit down on the edge of my bed and scrub my face with my hands.

I guess some things just aren't meant to be. But if that's the case, why do they hurt so fucking bad? Why do I feel like I'm missing a piece of myself?

It isn't fair she gets to live her life and I sit here and suffer.

"Are you going to rest?" Amelia pops her head around the door of my room.

"Yes. You and Dave make yourselves at home."

"If you need anything at all, please let me know."

I don't miss her suggestive tone, but I ignore it. I'm not in the mood for a distraction right now.

"Thanks."

When she's gone, I lie down and will myself to get over Josie. Saying is easier than doing, however, and my dreams are plagued with her.