Then There Was You (So Much It Hurts Series, Book Two)

By Melanie Dawn

(So Much It Hurts Series Book #2) CAN be read as a standalone!

Chris King never saw it coming...
In some ways, closing the book on my first love was the worst day of life. I was gutted, and yet I was completely at peace with my decision. I walked away knowing that I did what was best for her, unsure if I could ever recover.
Little did I know that one concert would change the entire course of my life.

There I stood, signing autographs and snapping pictures with fans when a familiar face in the crowd catapulted my mind back in time—Salem Honeycutt, once a balm to my pain and a calm in my storm. Yet again, her smiling face gave me hope.

Only one question remained: did she still see me as a wayward teenage boy who was completely off limits, or could she see the man I'd become...focused and driven, yearning for another chance at love?

For Salem Honeycutt, postpartum bliss seemed like a lie...
No one told me that I’d hate my baby when I brought her home from the hospital. No one told me that I’d want to put a pillow over my husband’s head and smother him in his sleep. No one told me that I’d want to slap every person who gave me the ever-so-cliché advice to ‘cherish every moment.’ No one told me that I’d despise my life the minute I became a mother, but I did.

Then I met Chris King, the kid who made me want to pull myself up from the dark recesses of my mind and face each day. This kid, whose passion for life and talent for music, touched my soul deeper than I could ever touch his. Chris gave me a reason to live.

I was once affectionately known as Mrs. H., Chris’s juvenile detention counselor.

This is our story.

***This book is intended for readers 18+ due to some language and mature themes.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Melanie Dawn
• Release date: Jul 31, 2014
• ISBN: 9781311919632

Melanie Dawn

Melanie Dawn is a thinker, a dreamer, and a hopeless romantic. She's an avid reader who recently discovered her love of writing as well. When her head isn't in the clouds, she spends her time as a a jack of all trades to her family. Melanie resides in the hills of North Carolina with her husband, her three children, and her cat.

Book preview

No! I screamed as I slammed my fist into the side of the metal phone booth. It can’t be true! My knuckle immediately throbbed, but it was nothing compared to the pain in my heart. Falling to my knees, I cried out in agony, Oh god, this isn’t happening! This isn’t fucking happening! Blind rage took over my body, and I punched the floor relentlessly. Searing pain exploded in my fist, but that didn’t stop me.

Within seconds a guard had me in shackles, lifting me to my feet. He escorted me down the hall, while I writhed and howled like a caged animal, directly past my own bunk and straight into segregation. He shoved me into the tiny cell and locked the door behind me. I slammed myself against the wall. Please let this be a nightmare! My shoulder ached with pain, but I didn’t give a fuck.

Officer Blevins abruptly slid open the tiny window in the metal door. Chris? You’ve got to calm down. Talk to me, man. What happened?

I glanced toward his caring, steel-gray eyes, the only things I could see through that tiny fucking window, but I didn’t answer. How could I? The weight on my chest was almost too much to bear.

A sob escaped my throat, but I quickly tried to reel it in. I groaned, slamming my fist into the wall to redirect my emotions. I wanted to break the concrete blocks into a million pieces, just the way my shattered heart felt, so I kept pounding it over and over. I needed to give meaning to the pain I felt inside—a real reason to cry. The throb of my knuckles almost alleviated the agony in my heart. Almost.

Chris, if you don’t calm down, I’ll be forced to call medical.

I turned to glare at him. I don’t give a fuck! I howled. Call them. Dope me up. Put me out of my misery!

Officer Blevins stared quietly at me for a moment, hoping I’d calm down on my own. I glared back at him, chest heaving and jaw twitching, until he slid the window closed and disappeared.

I don’t really know what happened after that. Everything was just a blur. All I knew was that I completely fucking lost it. I couldn’t stop myself. I was flipping the hell out and had no control over my body or my actions. Blood was splattered on the tile floor. My knuckles were a fucking mess, and my shoulders hurt from ramming them into the wall. Why the hell can’t there be punching bags in these cells? I needed to pound the shit out of something.

I leaned on the wall, throwing my head back against the cinder blocks and closing my eyes. I can’t believe this. I can’t fucking believe this!

I could feel the roar in my throat as I tried to push back the sobs that threatened to escape. With a growl, I pounded my fists backwards against the wall behind me.

Just then, as if the heavens opened up and sent me an angel, I heard the quiet voice that had been a balm to my pain for the past few months.

Chris?

***

Jeremy, my best friend and drummer, didn’t question my most recent alcohol binge. He just accepted it, knowing alcohol was the only thing that would numb my pain. He remembered my heartbreaking history with Kaitlyn, recalling how broken I was several years ago during the weeks following our brief reunion at the beach. So a few days ago, when I ran out of the grocery store empty-handed, Jeremy knew something serious had happened.

I collapsed onto the seat of the tour bus in despair, burying my head in my hands.

He stopped dead in his tracks. Oh shit. You saw her, didn’t you?

I nodded, barely able to contain myself. And that kid… oh god, that kid…

Tossing the most recent tabloids down onto the seat next to me, he grumbled, I knew coming here was a bad fucking idea.

I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. I just sat there, agonizing over my most recent encounter with the only woman I’d ever loved while Jeremy stood over me, unsure of how he should respond. After several excruciating seconds, he sighed and patted me once on the shoulder. Sorry, man, he mumbled, and then trudged to the back of the bus, leaving me alone with my thoughts while we headed down the road toward Charlotte for our next concert.

I sensed that Jeremy somewhat grasped the depth of my feelings for Kaitlyn, but I knew he would never fathom the pain I’d have to endure in letting her go. So I sat alone on the bus, writing her that painful goodbye letter before making the fateful call to Beverly that would ultimately seal the deal.

Later that night, when we’d reached the Queen City, we sat at the bar in the Ritz-Carlton while Jeremy handed me a shot of tequila. I threw it back and asked for another one in an effort to take the edge off.

"That’s it, he encouraged me. Drink her memory away."

So, I tried. Round after round, I tried to erase the tormenting thoughts of seeing her so happy with her family.

And day after day, since then, I hadn’t stopped trying. Every radio interview, every television appearance, and every other bullshit marketing ploy that Beverly had planned for us that week in the QC was excruciating. So when the morning of the Charlotte concert finally arrived, it was all I could do to drag myself out of bed.

Mooommm! Alexis called from her bedroom. Where are my pink Toms?

I could hear a couple of giggling girls in the background, and it thrilled my soul to hear such exuberance coming from Alexis’s bedroom. We’d had a tough year with my divorce from Graham. It had taken a while to get back on track, but we were finally starting to heal. Graham was no longer part of our lives, and we could move forward.

I called back to her, The last time I saw them, they were on my bathroom floor!

Thanks, Mom! I heard several sets of shuffling feet running toward my bathroom, followed by more girly squeals coming from two of Alexis’s friends, Payton and Olivia.

Your mom is so cool. I can’t believe she’s taking us to see Fifth Wheel in Charlotte! Payton raved.

I know! I can’t believe it either. I’m so excited! Olivia sang one octave higher than usual.

Tonight is gonna be epic! Alexis sounded like she was about to come unglued with elation.

I shook my head. Teenagers. But, I had to admit I was pretty excited myself. I hadn’t shared the news with the girls yet about the backstage passes I’d scored for us. For sure, the night was going to be ‘epic.’ I danced my way down the hallway, caught up with anticipation, knowing I’d just stolen my teenage daughter’s word.

The best part about the night was getting to see Chris. The Chris. The one who changed my life so many years ago. I wondered if he’d even recognize me. Probably not. I was only twenty-four the last time he saw me. A lot of years had passed. Just thinking of the possibility that I had some influence over where he had gotten in his life was reward enough for me. It was so hard to believe that the sullen, brown-eyed guy who sat in my office fourteen years ago was the same hot rock star whose confident swagger on stage melted girls’ hearts. In my mind, he was still the teenager who sat across from me on that drab, brown corduroy sofa during our counseling sessions. Then again, sometimes it was hard to believe that I was once the woman, a mere six and a half years older, trying to help shape and mold him into the man he would become.

I strained through the pain in my hand, trying to shake it away before someone else thrust another pen at me. The muscles in my fingers cramped from signing so many pre-concert autographs while the bright flashes from everyone’s cameras only intensified my throbbing headache. I was struggling with a massive hangover that had sustained itself through an entire unsuccessful week of drowning out my heartache. It seemed as though I didn’t feel normal unless I was suffering from a debilitating hangover these days. Seeing Kaitlyn again at the grocery store was painfully bittersweet. The image haunted me—that hard dose of reality of seeing her content with her family, smiling and laughing. Then, having chosen to walk away for good, it suffocated me like a vice grip; the pain was unbearable.

I wasn’t sure how in the hell I was going to make it through the concert. I was just going through the motions in the pre-party meet and greet. Hugs, signings, pictures, smiles. Next! Hugs, signings, pictures, smiles. Next!

Don’t get me wrong. I loved my fans. They were my favorite part of the whole journey. But, when all I wanted to do was drink some more then crawl back into the bed and sleep my painful memories away, pasting a smile on my face for the public’s eye was just too much.

The line for the backstage pass ticket holders snaked around the large open room. Rows and rows of enthusiastic fans waited patiently for their chance to talk to their idol. The air was stuffy; I could already feel the sweat beads forming on my lower back. Too many bodies were cramped into one room with not enough ventilation, but that didn’t stop the laughter and giddy squeals from all of the capricious teenage girls vying for a chance to get their picture taken with their rock god, Chris King.

I observed Chris from a distance as he interacted with all of his adoring fans, young and old. I loved the way he smiled with that same signature half-grin adorned by the deep dimple that I remembered from years past. I watched the way his dark brown eyes twinkled under the flashing lights. He rolled the sleeves of his button-down Affliction shirt and secured them with the button tabs, and then he wiped his brow with the black bandana that he kept tucked in his pocket.

He took time to take pictures and talk to everyone, never making anyone feel rushed. He was sweet, funny, and at times, a little goofy. My heart smiled at the thought of the man he had grown into—the man he had always aspired to be.

While I studied him, he’d periodically fiddle with the cross that hung from a chain around his neck and adjust the black leather cuff around his wrist. Sometimes he’d bend down to hug his youngest fans, drawing attention to his dark washed jeans, accented by polished metal rivets and sharply contrasted stitching. Occasionally he’d run his hand through his messy, brown faux-hawk and tug at the small black gauge in his ear. Every once in a while he’d pinch the bridge of his nose as if to assuage a pounding headache.

He was a little taller than I remembered and donned quite a few more tattoos than the last time I saw him at Fairbanks, but the smiles he flashed didn’t quite reach his eyes. The sparkle of hope that I remembered wasn’t there like it used to be, so I wondered in what ways time had changed him.

When we finally reached the front of the line, the girls rushed ahead of me to snag their hugs and autographs from Chris. I stood back, watching him interact with Alexis. He never realized she was the same sweet baby girl that I’d talked about all those years ago. I’d kept a picture on my desk of me cuddling her in a soft, pink blanket. Seeing them now, it was hard to believe how quickly time had passed.

Mom, mom! Come here. Meet Chris. Alexis was waving frantically as I shook my head out of its sentimental fog.

Standing a mere ten feet away, I watched as he leaned toward her and heard him ask, What’s your mom’s name, Alexis?

Alexis looked at him with stars in her eyes before squealing in true fourteen year old fashion, Omigod, you remembered my name! Gaining her composure almost immediately, she continued, Oh sorry, her name is Salem.

Chris peered at me, smiling. It was the first time he’d taken notice of me since I’d been standing there. He obviously didn’t recognize me right away because the look on his face remained pleasant, but unknowing. My heart fractured just a little.

Salem. That name struck a nerve in my subconscious, but I let it go. Over the years I’d resigned myself to never bring up painful memories and had learned to just stop thinking altogether. I didn’t allow the thoughts that associated themselves with that name to infiltrate my mind.

I smiled at the beautiful woman, immediately noticing her reciprocated grin. Perfect teeth. Dimples in her cheeks. The way her eyes lit up with joy. They were a striking shade of green. Something seemed familiar, but different.

I motioned to her. Well, come on over, Salem. We need to get a picture of you with the girls, too.

As she approached, I noticed her long, tanned legs extending out from under a short, but classy skirt.

It’s good to see you again, Chris, she said as she put her soft hand in mine.

What the…?

My brain scrambled for a distant memory that my heart immediately remembered because it began pounding in my chest.

Wait… Salem? I asked. No fucking way. It can’t be. My eyes darted to the girl standing beside her. Alexis? I looked back at the woman whose striking green eyes suddenly unlocked a memory from my past.

Just then, as if someone flipped a switch inside of me, I blurted, Oh my god, Salem Honeycutt! Grabbing her in a big bear hug, I gave her a tight squeeze. Holy shit! I can’t believe it’s you! You really came to see me? I released her and took a step back, certain my mind was deceiving me.

Yep. It’s me. I’m here, she offered through a slight chuckle, wringing her hands self-consciously. Wouldn’t miss it for the world.

Wow. Salem Honeycutt, my former detention counselor. The reason I’m here today. Holy shit. We stood and talked for a few more minutes. The longer we stood there, the more the cobwebs were dusted from my faded memory. At one very shitty time in my life, this woman was a fucking godsend.

Mom? Alexis interjected, staring at me, utterly shocked by the scene unfolding before her eyes. You. Know. Chris. King?

I grinned. Yes, honey, I know Chris.

Alexis and her friends shrieked with delight and began bouncing around in a group hug.

Shaking his head as if he were in awe of seeing me again after all this time, Chris said proudly, I’m so glad you came to see me. I finally made it to the big time. I always said I’d get here, and you were one of the few who ever truly believed in me. And now look, I really made it. It seemed as if the thirty-two year old rock god vanished, and the teenager with the desperate need for approval had replaced him.

I never doubted you for a second, I marveled, gently tucking a fallen strand of my curly, brown hair behind my ear.

Chris shook his head in awe and grabbed me again, encompassing me in his arms. I’m so happy you’re here… so glad you came.

I enjoyed the moment for a few more seconds, inhaling his keen and crisp masculine scent, then quickly pulled away to look him in the eyes. I’m very proud of you, Chris.

His eyes were glassy. Thank you. That means everything to me, he whispered.

It was great to see you again, I told him as I blinked back the tears that stung my own glassy eyes. Can’t wait to see you on stage.

We walked away, letting the next group of girls in line get their opportunity to meet him, but as we turned the corner, I began to wonder why seeing him again suddenly felt as though I’d ripped a Band-Aid off my soul.

***

The girls were too busy dancing and giggling through the arena to be concerned with the tempest of emotions that were swirling through my mind.

We were almost to the entrance of our section when a big, burly security guard stepped in front of us. Ma’am, I’m gonna have to stop you right here.

What’s going on, sir? I questioned, reaching for my tickets for proof that we belonged in that section.

Mr. King didn’t want you to disappear without his autograph, he answered, handing me a large manila envelope.

Autograph? Alexis asked, suspiciously eyeing the bulky package.

Yes, ma’am, the man said pointedly and walked away with a strange smile.

Open it, Mom! See what it is! Alexis bubbled with joy, her blue eyes glimmering with excitement.

Olivia clapped her hands excitedly. Yeah, open it Mrs. Honeycutt!

I tore open the package. Inside was a concert tour T-shirt, a small poster autographed by each band member, and four upgraded front row tickets down by the stage. Wrapped around the four tickets was a piece of paper with a hand written note from Chris.

I blinked a few times at the tickets in my hand. I’d never been on the front row at a concert before, however I’d seen views of it through my binoculars many times. I couldn’t imagine sitting so close that I could see the sweat beads on a singer’s forehead or reach out and touch him as he walked by me, but the tickets I held in my hand were about to change all that. Alexis and the girls were already freaking out. I held it together, even though I was turning cartwheels in my head.

We were ushered toward the front of the stage. The aisles were dark. Voices in the arena produced a steady roar around us. Seats filled quickly as the show was getting ready to start.

This is it! This was my moment to relive the moment that Chris sang for everyone in the cafeteria at Fairbanks. It was no secret that the kid had talent—gumption. I knew one day he’d follow his dreams straight to the top. I just never knew that I’d be sitting on the front row to witness it.

Suddenly, the lights dimmed, and the crowd went wild chanting Chris’s name. It was so surreal.

I looked at Alexis who was giddy with excitement, bouncing on her feet and chanting along with them.

Clapping my hands above my head to the beat, I joined in, Chris King! Chris King! while I watched anxiously for his arrival.

After a few billowing puffs of fog, some elaborate laser effects, and a few skillful pyrotechnic tricks, the music began. The crowd sprang to its feet, clapping and screaming in anticipation of Chris. My heart pounded in my chest, and a rush of adrenaline shot through my veins the moment the lights shut down to total blackness on stage.

We all heard his voice before we saw him as he began one of his chart toppers. The low timbre of his voice rang out over the roar of the crowd. Just then, as if on cue, rising up from beneath the stage through a hole in the center, he slowly appeared while the spotlight zeroed in on him.

High pitched, piercing screams echoed throughout the arena. Girls clamored toward the stage for an opportunity to reach out and touch him. Alexis and her friends were no exception, jumping up and down, stretching their hands toward him as he made his way down stage.

Ohmigod, Mom! Alexis screeched. This is so awesome!

Chris’s voice was crystal clear, echoing through the microphone. He was scanning the crowd, watching his adoring fans as they bobbed and swayed with enjoyment. I could only imagine what the sea of faces looked like from his point of view.

I turned around to get a glimpse at the obscurity. Thousands of faces. It was beyond belief. Flashing lights from cell phone cameras twinkled like fireflies in the darkness. I imagined that to Chris, the sight was amazing and lonely at the same time—knowing his fans loved him, but never really knowing any of them.

I whirled back around to observe Chris. He was walking slowly, taking his time to reach out to all of his idolizing fans. He worked the crowd, winking and waving to others who were farther back and out of reach. He was such a great entertainer, playing it up for the audience. Of course, having a powerful body, a handsome face, and a fantastic voice—a triple threat—helped too.

Chris constantly scanned the rows of spectators as he found his way front and center. Just then, his gaze landed on me and his eyes fixed on mine. A smile flickered on his lips and a glimmer of happiness twinkled in his dark brown eyes. I still couldn’t get over the fact that I was this close to the stage to witness it. Caught up in the moment, I was filled with pure elation for the young guy I used to know who was so desperate for a taste of this rock star world.

Chris sauntered over to us, reaching his hand down to Alexis, Olivia, and Payton. The girls went wild, and I worried that Alexis might faint. I couldn’t help myself. I extended mine too. There was just something magical about touching a celebrity. It was silly, I know, but still…

Chris’s hand grazed my fingertips. Rather than brushing by me like he had all the others, he grasped mine and stayed there. Focusing solely on me, he sang the last line of his song and held the final note for several extra seconds while the crowd went crazy, screaming, shouting, whistling, and clapping.

Chris ignored all of it. For a few stolen moments, he seemed lost in thought, piercing me with those deep, penetrating eyes. The room disappeared around us, and just like that day in the Fairbainks cafeteria, this moment was ours. I flashed an enormous smile right before the lights dimmed. He’d accomplished everything I’d ever wished for him and more. I just hoped he knew how truly proud I was.

The girls sang and danced all the way back to the car after the concert was over. I even joined their antics a few times. There was just something about Chris’s concert that gave me an emotional high. Proudly, we carried our souvenirs of concert T-shirts and autographed posters under our arms. It had truly been a night to remember.

When we finally settled into my Elantra, Alexis blurted, Mom, you never said you knew Chris King! That’s so awesome! How do you know him? Did you go to school with him? She bombarded me with questions, still hyped-up from the concert energy.

Yeah, Mrs. Honeycutt, Payton piped up from the back seat. How do you know Chris?

I glanced at Alexis’s friends in the reflection of my rearview mirror, unsure of how much I wanted to divulge.

Turning my gaze toward Alexis, who was sitting in the passenger seat beside me, I remembered the glum, deep-seated significance of my past with Chris. Swallowing hard, I stuffed the painful reminder of my ugly emotional baggage down, zipping it up tight. I never wanted Alexis to feel like the issues I had in the early months of her life were her fault in any way. Hell, I’d spent the first few years trying to overcompensate for my guilt. I reached out, smoothing her wavy, brown hair and tucking a stray piece behind her ear. It’s a long story, sweetheart, but let’s just put it this way… Chris King and I go way back.

As I drove home that night, my heart was bursting. I was content, but at the same time, my thoughts were heavy as they drifted back in time. Back to a time when Chris King was the very essence of my existence—a shining light in my darkest hour. Until the day I watched painfully as he walked away from Fairbanks Juvenile Justice Center and straight out of my life.

That concert fucking rocked! Tommy, my bass player, twisted off the metal beer cap and handed me the bottle. You really know how to work a crowd, he teased with a devilish grin, gyrating his hips to mimic my moves. I’m sure there are some fine ass honeys already at the after-party waiting for you. He waggled his eyebrows, trying to convince me.

I chuckled. For the most part, women at the after-parties all looked the same to me—desperate. You had some nice riffs, my friend, I complimented him, ignoring his comment. Lifting the beer to my lips, I guzzled half of it.

Jeremy plopped down on the sofa, propping his feet up on the table in front of him. So, y’all ready to hit up the after-party? Lotsa sexy ladies out there who are ready to meet and greet the band, he insinuated with a wink.

I rolled my eyes. Why tonight, of all nights, was I just not feeling up to any after-party?

Jeremy held his phone in front of him, tapping the screen with his fingers. Sonya says she’s never been with a drummer before. He grinned like the ass that he was. I’m about to change all that.

Dude, Tommy chimed in, Ask her if she has any hot friends. He elbowed me in the ribs, knowingly.

Jeremy chuckled. Hell yeah, she does. He turned the phone toward Tommy to show him the picture Sonya had sent of herself with her friends.

Fuck yeah. This is on. Tommy murmured, taking another pull from the bottle.

I leaned back against the sofa, not in the mood for any of it. I’m just gonna hang here tonight, boys.

Both of them froze and stared at me as if I’d suddenly grown two heads. I’d never turned down an after-party before. This was new territory for all of us.

Disgusted, Tommy blurted, You’ll do no such thing. With all the cherries out there just waiting to be popped by the famous Chris King? Fuck, dude. You’re coming.

I shook my head. Nah, man. I don’t feel like popping anything tonight but the tops off these beers. Tilting it up, I chugged the last of the bottle.

Jeremy looked at me like I’d just told him my dog died. You feeling okay, bro?

No, I wasn’t. My head was all over the fucking place, and I couldn’t tie one thought down. Yeah, just tired, I lied. There was always something about a show that pumped me up with the energy of ten men afterwards, but tonight… I just don’t know…

Jeremy, clapped a hand on my shoulder, hesitating as he asked, You didn’t see Kaitlyn in the crowd, did you?

Would I sound too crazy if I told him that they all looked like Kaitlyn to me? When I looked out into that crowd, show after show, all their faces blurred together to remind me of the same face I missed day after day, year after year. Nah, I didn’t see her.

Jeremy slid his hands into his back pockets and asked, Well, what is it then?

It’s nothin’, honestly, I shrugged, not wanting either of them to probe me further.

Jeremy stared at me, unconvinced. Look, man, I get it. You don’t wanna talk about it. It’s all good. I’m gonna go get with Sonya. He slapped me patronizingly on the back. You stay here and sulk.

Whatever, man, I rolled my eyes, grabbed the remote, and clicked the power button for the television.

As I flipped through the channels I could hear Jeremy and Tommy taking shots and talking shit from across the hotel suite.

Dude, Jeremy hissed, I don’t know what the hell’s up with him.

Tommy threw back another shot. I know, man. Ever since he saw Kaitlyn at the grocery store, he’s been drowning his shit, but it’s not like him to want to pass up some easy ass. What the fuck?

I don’t know, Jeremy said, throwing me a sidelong glance.

Guys, I snapped. I’m sitting right here. I can fucking hear you.

Sorry, dude. Just trying to figure out what the hell happened.

I told you. It’s nothing. Nothing happened, I barked. Just as the last word exited my mouth, a certain sexy, brown haired, green-eyed, former counselor infiltrated my mind again. What the hell?

All right, man. Peace. Tommy flipped me off, smiling as he stepped out the doorway.

I chucked an unopened condom packet toward Jeremy. Don’t forget your raincoat, I warned him as he headed out the door behind Tommy.

He caught the tiny plastic square in midair. I never do. He winked, and then he was gone.

I threw my hands behind my head and watched television absently, not giving a shit what was actually on.

I had almost dozed off when a familiar chime from my phone indicated a text. I swiped my finger across the screen, smiling at the words that popped up from an unknown number.

Yes, to dinner. Let me know when and where. –Salem

Without hesitation I typed my response. Tomorrow. Acropolis Grill. 8pm. I look forward to it.

She immediately replied. Can’t wait!

A goofy grin plastered my face. I read her final text over and over as I walked toward the shower. Flipping on the bathroom light, I kicked off my shoes and tossed my jeans and T-shirt at the chair in the corner. I plugged my phone into its charger on the counter and started the water in the shower.

Standing under the hot stream, I let the water run over my body and hoped it would rinse my troubles down the drain with it. I couldn’t seem to focus on what to do next because my mind was a wreck, but I finally managed to lather up and rinse. I hopped out, dug through my suitcase for a