Chapter 1:
Taylor Hanson opened up his fridge and was greeted by the bright light from within. It flooded the dark kitchen, adding an eerie glow to the shadows surrounding him.
"Fuck," he mumbled to himself, slamming the door shut. All the beer was gone.
Rubbing his hand across his chin that had about a week's worth of stubble on it, he remembered the bottle of Jack Daniel's left over from a party awhile back. He never was much of a whiskey guy, but any alcohol was better than none at this point. Grabbing the bottle out of the cabinet above the fridge, Taylor opted to just forget the glass and drink straight from the bottle. Knocking back a large gulp, the liquid burned his throat and eyes, almost causing him to cough it back up. The second swig was easier.
He stood in the middle of the kitchen and looked around. Every appliance and utensil was still in its rightful place, but the room felt more cold and empty than ever. The most important thing that spent time in that kitchen was gone and wasn't coming back.
The rise and fall of Taylor and Melanie's marriage spanned about four years and over those years, her presence was all he needed to feel like he was at home. It didn't matter if they were in New York, at their house in Tulsa, or stuck in the middle of nowhere - as long as Melanie was by his side, he had a warm comfort blanketing him. So when she told him she was leaving, he felt like he'd been thrown out into a blizzard without as much as a jacket.
Taylor knew he wasn't the easiest guy to be married to. His job was his life and his schedule was insane. Plans often needed to be changed at the last minute, and there was never any guarantee of being in a single place for very long. Since Taylor was in a band with two of his brothers and they were always together, it was a rule of thumb that any woman who married a Hanson brother signed herself up for practically marrying the other two. It was a lifestyle of chaos and fame that Melanie was well aware of going into the marriage. Taylor used to think that his drive was something she admired about him, that she loved him for it. But it was also the reason she ended up leaving.
He couldn't help but feel like the last four years had been nothing but a waste of time, a cruel joke at the hand of God. He dangled a wonderful woman in front of Taylor's face, let him get comfortable and fall in love, and then snatched her away. Maybe it wasn't God's fault - maybe it was just that women were cruel and manipulative and thrived on playing men like puppets. Either way, Taylor was left with a huge, gaping hole in his life that nothing seemed to be able to fill, alcohol included.
A loud rattling at the front door snapped Taylor out of his thoughts. He recognized the sound of Melanie's keys turning in the lock. Taylor quickly flipped on the kitchen light and stuck the bottle of Jack in a random cabinet to hide the evidence. Running his fingers through his dirty hair, he tried to act casual as he heard her walk into the house.
"Tay?" her voice called.
She followed the light into the gloomy kitchen, and Taylor saw only her outline at first. But it didn't matter that he could barely make out her features; he'd memorized her face, her voice, her touch. They were tucked into his memory like things you stuff in boxes in the attic because you don't want to see them anymore, but even out of sight they haunt you constantly.
She froze in her tracks when her eyes landed on Taylor. He quickly broke their gaze, realizing that he'd failed at seeming cool and collected, that his hands were shaking, that his sad, disheveled appearance gave him away.
"What are you doing here?" he asked quietly, picking at an invisible spot on the marble countertop he was leaning against.
Melanie was still staring at him, but he refused to meet her eyes. "I have one more box of stuff to get from the basement and then I...I wanted to return my key," she said gently.
"Well, don't let me get in your way," Taylor said, motioning to leave.
"Tay," Melanie grabbed his arm as he walked past her. The feeling of her skin on his burned into not only his arm, but his heart. A knot formed in his throat and he tried to swallow it down. He kept his eyes glued to the floor in front of him.
"Taylor, look at me," she said softly. Taylor took another hard swallow and forced back the tears that threatened to fill his eyes. He finally looked at her but immediately wished that he hadn't.
Her own eyes were brimmed with tears and the emotional stress of the last week was apparent on her face. It wasn't fair to see her upset. She was the one who was leaving. She was the one who filed for divorce before even giving them a chance to work things out. She was the one who was causing all of this pain, but after taking just one look at her sad face, Taylor wished he could reach out and comfort her.
"I don't want it to end like this," she continued. "I still love you. I don't want you to hate me. It just got too hard."
"I could make it easier for you," he said, his voice breaking with emotion.
Melanie shook her head. "No, that's the thing, Taylor - you can't. This is who you are. And I'm just not cut out for it. I'll always love you and I hope we can find some way to stay in each other's lives, as friends."
As soon as a few tears dropped from her eyes, Taylor couldn't hold back his own any longer. His hand flew up to wipe them away.
"Friends? We can never just be friends." Taylor fought to make his voice even and emotionless, but he knew it was a useless attempt. He'd never been very good at not feeling. The words continued to pour out of him and into the space between them. "I thought we were in it for the long haul, that we'd eventually start a family together. You're everything to me, Mel...but apparently I'm nothing to you now."
Taylor walked out of the room, away from the woman he used to know and love but was now a stranger who broke his heart.
* * * * * * * * *
Taylor lay sprawled out across the couch, the now-empty bottle of Jack tipped over onto the floor beside him. His earlier encounter with Melanie had sucked all of the energy out of him. His head was aching and he was beyond exhausted, but he knew that sleep wouldn't find him. His iPod chose a song at random, and the music that filled the living room through his large sound system fit his mood so perfectly that it was almost scary.
But tell me now where was my fault, in loving you with my whole heart?
But tell me now where was my fault, in loving you with my whole heart?
Her white blank page & a swelling rage, rage
You did not think when you sent me to the brink, the brink
He needed to get out. Out of this house where he felt trapped inside of memories that made his hollow heart ache. Out of the life he'd built with Mel that used to be filled with so much light and was now a place of darkness.
You desired my attention but denied my affections, affections
But tell me now where was my fault, in loving you with my whole heart?
But tell me now where was my fault, in loving you with my whole heart?
Feeling surprisingly sober, Taylor got up and walked into his bedroom, found his largest suitcase, and immediately began stuffing it with clothes and other random belongings. Once he'd finished packing, he called a car service to come pick him up and then turned his cell phone off. He wasn't planning on turning it on again for a very long time.
He switched off all of the lights in the house and stepped outside, locking the door behind him. As his feet carried him away from the only life he knew, he didn't allow himself to look back.