I cried myself to sleep every night for the next month. I cried for me, for Manny, for Nick, for things I didn't believe in but I found myself hoping for. I cried tears of pain and tears of exhaustion and tears of anger.
Sometimes I look back and think I cried just to cry because I had never done it before. Or maybe despite my words, I was looking for pity. Maybe I wanted to world to feel sorry for me, to pity me, to give me attention. Maybe what I was really doing was trying to get someone to notice just how scared I was.
I must have picked up my phone a million times to call Nick. I would pick it up and dial a few numbers then slam it back down. Pick it up, dial a few numbers, and slam it back down. It was a game for me. Just how far could I go before I got scared? How close would I let myself get to relying on him before I backed off? The first three numbers, five numbers, seven numbers, a ring. How brave was I? Or how scared was I?
Maybe the people that were around me drove my fear. Eric seemed to stop by twice as much as he had before. Quin called daily "just to chat" he claimed. Jake didn't beat around the bush, as is costume for a big brother. He simply came by to make sure I was doing all right.
And I was doing all right. I was breathing anyway. I got up in the morning, I went to work, and I came home to bed. I was alive but I was not longer living. I only talked to my family if they made an attempt to contact me, my basketball sat in the corner of my apartment gathering dust, and I knew from the looks at the office people were wondering just how much longer I could pretend I could live like that.
Kymmi called me once a week offering lunch dates that I declined. Leighanne came by my office every so often to see if I wanted to go shopping with her and the girls. I said no. Kristen stopped by my apartment to see if I wanted to go to the park with her and Jerald. I passed. Annie offered dinner with her and the kids every night when she left to office. I refused. I even pushed aside Kate's offer of coffee breaks and Denise's home cooked meals.
I was shutting the door of my life in their faces even as I fought with myself to call Nick. The worst part was I didn't feel like there was anyone I could turn to where Nick was concerned and that left me even more confused then before.
Thank God for friends though.
One month to the day that the Backstreet Boys left Orlando on their newest tour my phone rang. I had just walked through the door after work and was kicking off my shoes when I reached for the phone.
I didn't give much thought what I did anymore so I wasn't thinking when I picked up the phone that day. It's a good thing I wasn't or I may have missed out on an important moment in my life.
"Hello?" I answered.
"Enough is enough, Jack."
"What? Who is this? A.J. is that you?" I asked, confused at the odd greeting.
"Who else is going to cut through your shit? Have a seat, doll. You and I are going to have a nice long talk," he ordered.
"A.J., I'm not in the mood for this. Hell I'm not in the mood for anything," I admitted.
"Exactly. Now shut up and listen to me." There was moment's pause before he began again.
"Jack, baby I know it hurts. He was your brother. It's suppose to hurt but here's the thing. Jake and Jacob and Eric and Quin all hurt too. You aren't alone unless you want to be. You're breaking your family's hearts and you're breaking our families' hearts. Every time I talk to Annie she tells me how worried she is about you. Howie, Brian, and Kev hear the same things from their girls. You're scaring everyone, doll. Most of all though, you're scaring Nick. The kid is going crazy. He can't sleep, he hardly eats, and his damn phone is always in his hand like he's terrified he'll miss your call. He's scared to death about you. Open your eyes, Jack. It is not just you that's hurting. We all cared about Manny, but what's happening is you're the one hurting us the most. We can't live watching you like this. It hurts, Jack. Too much so here's the deal. Go ahead and hurt. Feel all the pain you think you can handle, cry as many tears as you can until you can't cry anymore. Then take a deep breath, open the door, and get on with your life, baby, because the rest of us can't live our lives hurting this much. No matter how much we love you."
I listened to him in silence, letting his words sink in. I felt horrible, possibly worse than I had when Manny died because he was right. It wasn't just me hurting, I was hurting the ones I cared about.
"A.J., I never meant to," I whispered
"I know, doll. I know that and everyone else knows that but you did it and now it's time to move on," he answered, that soothing voice caressing my soul.
"I don't know how to," I admitted.
"Call Nick. He'll help you. Please, Jack. I love you."
I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded in silence. Then I realized he couldn't see me so I whispered, "I know. Thank you."
"Anything for you, doll."
I hung up and sat down on my sofa. I had been shocked and angry and sad. Now was it was time for the fourth step, acceptance. Manny was gone and everyone was right. Nothing I said or did was going to bring him back. My problem was I didn't know how. I didn't know how to wake up in the morning and go through the day without wanting to cry.
I don't know what time it was when I reached for the phone again. I knew the numbers by heart as I dialed and waited. Once, twice, three times it rang. Nothing. Then suddenly I heard his voice.
"Talk about bad timing. Hey this is Nick. I'm either on stage, in a conference, asleep, or otherwise occupied by the tour. So leave me a message and I'll get back to you as soon as the song ends."
Then was the sound of a tone and then it was my turn. What was I supposed to say?
"I'm sorry. I didn't mean to scare you. I never meant for anyone else
to get hurt. I just I don't know how to do this. I don't know how to live
like this and I don't know how to ask for help. I miss you, Carter."
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