Tempt My Heart Part 4

Standing up, I set the rose onto the center of his casket just as the skies open up, and fresh cool rain falls on me.

Lifting my head, I close my eyes and welcome the rain drops as they fall on my face, mixing with my tears. The feeling of strong arms wrapping around me sends a wave of comfort through me. When I open my eyes, I see my father embracing me with his own tears in his eyes.

The rain is falling down hard, causing water droplets to drip off of his hair; he's getting soaked to the bone standing here beside me, but he doesn't seem to care. He's my rock right now, and if there were ever a moment in my life where I needed my daddy, now would be it.

He doesn't say a word; his eyes speak for him. I hold my arms against my chest as s.h.i.+vers from the cold rain overtake me. Holding me tightly against his body, trying to s.h.i.+eld me from the cold, my father helps walk me back to the car that Matt drove us all in.

I'm glad I was the last one to place my rose on the casket, allowing me to have my last moment with Cane in private. Everyone else left after saying their goodbyes and headed to Cane's parents' house for the wake.

My legs threaten to give out with each step I take.

My body is weak and defeated.

"When that rain started falling, I swear, Brittan, that was Cane crying right there alongside you." Roxie whispers in my ear as she takes my hand into hers. I can hear her choking on her words as she tries to fight back the tears.

We've all cried too much.

I don't understand. Why Cane? Why now? We had a beautiful future ahead of us, and G.o.d took him away from me before our happily ever after could even begin.

It's not fair. G.o.d can be merciless. We pray when we need to feel love, wisdom and hope, but then G.o.d can also rip your world out from under you when you least expect it. Leaving you feeling lost, defeated and unloved.

My mother keeps telling me we all have a time to go. We may not understand it, but G.o.d always has a plan. We just need to wait, and the reasons why will come to us at some point. We just need to be patient.

I don't want to hear that.

I want to be angry. Past f.u.c.king angry...Livid! I don't want to hear about bigger plans, and when it's your time, it's your time.

f.u.c.k G.o.d's bigger plan.

What about my plans.

My future.

My happiness.

Without Cane, I have none of those things.

January 22nd 2006.

Walking through the door to my condo with Cane's belongings in my hand, I head straight to the couch and plop down onto it. I just came from his parents' house where we had the reading of his will.

I didn't know he had made one, but I guess his father advised him to do so when he decided to enlist in the military. He must have helped him write one and get his life insurance policy set up. Cane's father, Terry, is a divorce attorney here in Miami, but also helps the rich and wealthy keep their a.s.sets in order.

I swear my jaw hit the floor as I heard the words come out of Terry's mouth that Cane had a very substantial life insurance policy that would be split between me and his parents. He wanted to make sure that if anything happened to him I was taken care of. All funeral expenses were covered by the military and handled by his parents, whom I am grateful for, because I don't think I could've gotten through picking out a casket to bury my fiance in.

The Army gave Cane's parents all the belongings he had with him in Iraq, and while I was there today, his mother gave them to me. She said she knew Cane would want me to have them.

So here I sit on my couch, staring at a big green bag full of everything he had with him overseas. With shaky fingers, I open his bag and one by one begin removing all the items packed away inside.

I can't help but hug his t-s.h.i.+rt tightly against my chest and breathe in his scent, it's mixed with the smell of the outdoors but I don't care.

A small smile spreads across my lips, tears sliding over them as I pull out a box and open it to find pictures of us at my graduation, on the beach the night we got engaged and lying in bed here in our apartment. Right beside them is a bunch of Grizzly wintergreen dip canisters. In his last care package, I sent him a roll of them because he couldn't go a day without one. He had said, especially over there; it was the only thing he could do to pa.s.s the time.

As I take each item out, a small envelope catches my attention because it has my name written on it. My stomach is twisting into so many knots; I swear my intestines must look like a fricking pretzel right now.

Lying back against the arm of the couch I hold the envelope between my fingers as I stare at it, debating if I want to read it. The day Cane died I found a new email in my inbox. He had sent it a few hours before he died just telling me he loved me, and hoped I had a great first week back to school, he had also asked about Beyond Redemption. He was so excited for me to finally be doing what I love and with a band I'm a huge fan of.

I read that email over and over so many times I swear the words are now burned into my brain.

I don't know if I can physically handle whatever the h.e.l.l is in this letter. I try to take a breath, but my lungs feel like they're full of cement, and I can't get a single breath of air into them. Sliding my knees up to my chest, I dip my head and rest my forehead against my legs as I try to stop the panic attack that is consuming me.

My sobs are the only sound echoing throughout my apartment. I've cried too many tears in this place; it feels like the walls are closing in on me every moment I am in here. This place used to be a safe haven for me, where I'd spend countless hours making love to Cane, or just curling up on this very couch watching movies together. Now it feels empty and a constant reminder of what my life used to be.

Finally, I feel the pressure on my chest slowly lifting as my panic attack begins to pa.s.s. Every time I have one it terrifies the c.r.a.p out of. Because of them, my family doctor gave me a note to be out of cla.s.s and work for the time being; until the attacks go away or at least become manageable.

I haven't been back to school since the day I was told Cane was dead. Just the thought of facing all those people and their sympathetic looks and words of condolence is too much to handle right now.

The pain and loss is still too raw.

Holden let me know the band still wants me as their lead singer, but understands right now I need s.p.a.ce and time to grieve. They temporarily have another girl filling in for their local gigs, and I'm grateful they think I'm talented enough to wait for me.

Finally feeling a little better, but still shaky, I grab my cell and text Roxie.

Me: I just found a letter from Cane in his things sent back from Iraq...IDK if I can read it :/ Within seconds, my phone beeps alerting me that Roxie text me back. I haven't moved a single inch. I'm surprised I haven't burned a hole through the letter with how intently I've been staring at it. I am fighting an internal battle: should I read it now...or wait, and read it when I'm more mentally prepared to see what Cane wrote to me?

Roxie: READ IT! Cane would want u 2 if he took the time 2 write u one last letter. <3 i'm="" here="" 4="" u="" if="" u="" need="">

I wipe away my tears and dry my cheeks with the sleeve of my sweater before fingering the tiny envelope again. Roxie is right; Cane would want me to read this now.

I feel a lump form in my throat as I picture Cane lying on his bunk, writing me this letter in the event he wouldn't make it back. I miss him so much. To know the last words he wanted me to ever read from him are in this envelope is extremely overwhelming.

Tearing it open, I close my eyes and slowly inhale a deep breath before slowly releasing it as I try to prepare myself for what I'm about to read.

The paper is a cream colored stationary. I remember it from the writing paper I'd sent Cane in his first care package when he arrived in Iraq; hoping he would use it to write me letters. I slide my gaze over the letter, looking at Cane's handwriting. Slowly, I glide my fingers over each word as I picture him flas.h.i.+ng his mega-watt smile down at me the last day we saw each other in the airport.

When I watched him walk away that day, I thought it was the hardest thing I'd ever have to suffer through. Little did I know that would be the last time he would hold me in his strong arms and kiss my lips.

I'd give anything for one more day with him, because if I could go back, I would cherish every moment together even more.

I even miss all of our stupid fights. He could push my b.u.t.tons better than anyone. What I wouldn't give to have him standing in our bathroom right now b.i.t.c.hing at me for leaving my hair on the shower floor, or complaining that all of my lotions, make-up and body sprays were now overtaking his side of the sink.

I can't contain the cries that escape me as I reflect back on every moment we had together, and my tears that had begun to taper off have now started to fall once more.

I begin to read Cane's letter through blurry eyes as my tears cloud my vision, Brittan- It's hard for me to write this letter because I know that the only way you'll be reading this is if I'm no longer on this Earth with you. The thought of not growing old by your side is terrifying. My friend, Trace, suggested I write a letter just in case the worst happened while we were based in Afghanistan. After I returned from my tour there, I tore it up. I never expected to be returning to the front line so soon after returning home to you. Now that I'm lying here staring at the bunk above me, I decided now was the best time to write you a new letter.

First off I want to tell you I'm sorry. You've been so supportive and understanding with all of this, even though I know you would've much rather have had me back in Miami still at college with you. But the way I look at it we all have a time to go no matter where we are or how it happens. I could be killed in a car accident or a mugging ten feet down the road from our condo, or shot fatally over here.

We have no guarantee for tomorrow.

That's one of the many things I love about you, Brittan. You are always living life to the fullest. Every day we've spent together I've cherished and wouldn't change a thing.

On the Fourth of July when I first met you that was one of the most memorable moments of my life. The second your eyes connected with mine; I knew I had to talk to you. I think I fell in love with you the instant we met, and then each day after, I just fell more in love with you.

I know you're hurting, and missing me like h.e.l.l. I want you to know that on earth or in Heaven my love for you will never falter. I'll proudly be waiting for you at the pearly gates so we can walk through them hand in hand to our eternal forever together.

By now you've probably read my will, and before you try to protest you deserve every dime I left you, I told you I would always take care of you from the moment I put that engagement ring on your finger. I'm keeping that promise now even though I'm no longer on this Earth.

I want you to promise me one thing, and believe me baby if you break it I will haunt your a.s.s until you do as I ask. I want you to take the money I left you and chase your dreams.

You are far too talented to spend your lifetime teaching music. You belong up on stage at a sold out arenas showing off that amazing voice G.o.d blessed you with.

One more thing before I end this letter...I know right now the pain of losing me is too fresh to listen to this request but I want you to live your life to the fullest for me, Brittan. Do not waste your life away because I am not here with you. You may not believe it, but you will love again, and whoever it is that wins your heart better treat you right because YES I will haunt his a.s.s if he ever treats you any less than the queen that you are.

I love you in this lifetime and every lifetime after this.

Forever & Always. And like we've always said, this isn't goodbye, so baby- I'll see you later Love, Cane Blinking, I look down as I re-read the letter again and again. After an hour of doing this, it's now stained with my tears. I lay the letter down on my coffee table to dry, and curl up into a ball on my couch as I reflect on everything Cane wrote.

I know he wants me to live a life full of everything we should've had together, but without him I don't see that happening. I don't want to fall in love with anyone else, ever. He was my soulmate; he owned my heart completely and when he died my heart died with him.

Standing, I head into my bathroom where I have the sleeping pills my doctor prescribed to try and help me sleep right after Cane pa.s.sed away. The only problem is they're not working. Nothing helps; I fall asleep momentarily just to awake an hour or two later and spend the rest of the night tossing and turning as images of Cane flash in my mind. They play like a movie, making the pain of losing him intensify throughout the night.

Opening the bottle, I go to pour one pill out then a voice in my head begins to tell me to take more. If one doesn't work, then maybe a few more will do the trick. Perhaps I can sleep longer and dream of Cane. If I get lucky, it'll be a good dream...even if it's not reality. It feels real enough that I'll take any false reality, even if it's only for a few hours instead of the devastating reality that is my life.

I dump six pills into my hand and turn the sink on to fill up a cup of water. As my eyes focus on the mirror in front of me, a scream erupts from deep within my throat. I drop the gla.s.s, and it shatters at my feet while the pills fall and mix with the broken gla.s.s now scattered across my bathroom floor.

Blinking a few times I rub my eyes and spin around, but there's no one behind me.

I swear to G.o.d; Cane was just standing behind me!

Oh, my G.o.d. I am losing it!

I run to the kitchen to retrieve my broom and dustpan to clean up the mess that is now covering my bathroom.

Squatting down I begin sweeping up the pills and gla.s.s as my hands shake from the scare that just rocked me to my core, making sweeping a difficult task.

After cleaning up the mess, I sit down on my bed with my head in my hands. "I take it you are really taking the haunting my a.s.s thing seriously." I mumble under my breath.

All I want to do is sleep and see Cane again. I just want to hear his voice and feel his touch, even if it's only for a few short hours.

"I admit taking a handful of pills isn't the answer, Cane! We've always been honest with each other and never sugar coated s.h.i.+t! The truth is, if I overdosed and died tonight, I wouldn't care..." My shoulders shake vigorously as another sob rips through my chest. My body is consumed with anger and misery because there's no room for anything else. "Don't you see, Cane? My life isn't worth living without you in it!"

Now, I've truly lost it.

I'm sitting here crying my eyes out for the zillionth time and shouting at my dead fiance who isn't even here. I've officially lost my f.u.c.king mind.

Falling back onto the bed, I yell out, "Where do I go from here? I don't want a life if you're not in it..." I choke on my last words, as the hopelessness becomes too much to bare.

I didn't realize I had cried myself to sleep, curled up in a ball on top of my comforter. When I wake up shortly after, my body aches and my muscles feel stiff. I stretch and climb off of my bed; I look at the clock on my cell and realize it's after eleven at night. I've been asleep for over two hours. I don't remember what I was dreaming about. I think for the first time in over two weeks I had a dreamless sleep.

I can't help but feel a pang of sadness. .h.i.t me as I realize that I'd rather have nightmares or sweet dreams over not dreaming of Cane at all.

Thinking about his letter, I jump in the shower and let the hot water sooth my aching body. I only get out after the water turns cold. I did a lot of thinking while in there, and I know that I can agree to one thing Cane asked of me.

Grabbing my cell, I quickly type out a bulk text to Roxie, Dalton, Matt, and all the guys from Beyond Redemption asking them to meet me in thirty minutes at Ocean Side Dive. I know since it's a Sunday the bar is open until three am, and the guys have no gigs tonight.

What I need to say should be told to everyone all at once. It's going to be hard, but it's what I have to do to try and cope with losing Cane and doing as he wishes in his letter.

I order a pitcher of beer and gather everyone around our favorite booth in the back corner of the bar. There are more of us than usual, so Nash and Casper are sitting at the end of our booth, backwards in chairs they stole from one of the tables.

I play with a napkin, twisting it around my fingers in an attempt to keep myself focused. Clearing my throat, I begin to speak. "Thank you for coming." I flash everyone a weak smile, "Y'all are probably wondering why I asked everyone to come here tonight. I found a letter from Cane this evening while going through his things, and in that letter he made it clear the things he wanted me to do if he was to never return home from Iraq."

I'm grateful the bar is filled with people, and the jukebox is blasting music because it helps drown out our conversation, making it seem a little more private in this public setting.

Roxie rests her hand over mine giving it a gentle squeeze, "I'm glad you decided to read it." She says just loud enough for me to hear.

Dalton and Matt both look as s.h.i.+tty as I look and feel. Cane was their best friend, and I know they're missing him as much as I am. Dalton leans forward on his elbows, finally asking what everyone is thinking, "How are you? We've all been worried about you, Brittan. We've given you s.p.a.ce because we don't know what else to do, but it isn't easy staying away. More than a few times, I found myself driving to your condo...just to end up turning around and going somewhere else."

Matt lets out a deep cough as he rakes his fingers nervously through his hair; I can tell he's fighting to keep it together as much as I am right now.

Closing my eyes for a second, I take a moment to collect myself. Being around everyone is making me emotional. I feel bad for Casper, Holden, Nash, and Levi because they definitely didn't sign up for any of this when they asked me to be in their band.

I take a sip of my beer before answering, "Honestly...I'm heartbroken, lonely, and angry. I have so many emotions bundled up into one big knot inside of me. I'm struggling with trying to figure out how to deal with all of the emotions I'm going through right now. I didn't think it was possible, but I miss Cane more every day. Everyone keeps saying it'll get better in time...to me, each day that pa.s.ses feels as if the sorrow only gets worse.

"Well, we're all here for you. We didn't know Cane well but whenever he was bartending, he was always fun to chat with. He was a huge fan of the band and was always talking about you, Brittan. We know one thing for sure...that man loved you." Holden says giving me a sympathetic smile.

I can't help but smile a little as I think about Cane working behind the bar here. What I wouldn't give to jump up on a barstool and see his gorgeous smile smiling back at me as he poured my customers drinks and took a free moment to tell me how beautiful I looked.

Glancing over my shoulder, I stare at the bar and for a moment I swear I see him standing there with his hands fisted as he's leaning on the bar smiling across the room at me. But as soon as I see him, I blink, and he's gone.

I don't know what's happening to me.

I hope diving into work will help distract my mind that seems to be working on overload right now. I'm not only seeing him in my dreams, but now when I'm awake too.

I'm one hallucination away from a padded room.

Blinking a few times, I turn back to everyone as I grip my gla.s.s of beer and chug it down. Slamming the gla.s.s onto the table, I let out a long sigh and decide to just say it and see what everyone thinks.

"Only Roxie knows this, but I'm now confiding in all of you. Cane left half of his life insurance policy to me, and its way more than I could have ever imagined. I was shocked when I learned he put his parents and me down as his beneficiaries." Pausing I take a deep breath before continuing, "In his letter, he told me he wants me to use the money to follow my dreams."

I'm trying so hard to keep it together, but it's a fight I'm now losing. My eyes begin to tear up, and I try to hold my eyes open wide and blink away the forming tears but I'm defeated and they escape, dripping onto the table.

Frustrated with myself, I let out an aggravated sigh and swiped away other tears with the back of my hand. "Sorry..." I whisper as I try to get my emotions together.