Aria by Jennifer Hartmann

23Chapter Twenty-Three

Chelsie awoke to the sound of giggles and Sunday morning cartoons. The mouth-watering aroma of homemade pancakes wafted through the air and made her sit up in bed with a dreamy sigh. She loved pancakes.

The sun was shining that morning, a gentle breeze floating in through the cracked window. Chelsie smiled when she spotted two lovebirds perched on a nearby branch. She threw her legs over the side of the bed, enjoying the feel of the plush rug beneath her bare feet.

“Breakfast is ready!”

Chelsie leaped up and threw a robe on over her nightgown. Nothing got her out of bed faster than pancakes.

“Good morning, sunshine. I thought you’d never wake up.”

Chelsie entered the kitchen with a mischievous grin on her face. “I couldn’t help that I was tired. Someone kept me up late last night.” She winked at the handsome man with a spatula in his hand.

“I cleared the table for you, Chelsie!”

Chelsie grinned and strolled over to the kitchen table decorated with butter, syrup, and fresh fruit. “You did a great job, Sam.”

Noah wandered up behind her and smacked her backside, then whirled her around to plant a kiss on her lips. “I missed you.”

“It’s only been six hours, you nut,” she teased. She wrapped her arms around his neck and accosted him with kisses.

He grinned. “That’s six hours of missing you.”

“Eww! Gross!” Sam contorted his face into a mask of horror at the display of affection. “Growed-ups are yucky.”

They both chuckled. Chelsie moved towards the table to take her seat, when she heard the distinct sound of music paying in the distance. She crinkled her nose. “Are you playing… U2?”

Noah looked at her like she had grown a second head. “I’m not playing any music, Chelsie. Why do you always think U2 is playing?”

Chelsie frowned. “I – I swear I hear it. Can’t you hear it?” The music grew louder, and she ran into Noah’s arms, shaking him as hard as she could. “Why can’t you hear it?”

“There’s no music, Chelsie. You need to wake up. It’s a beautiful day.” Chelsie put her hands over her ears and shook her head. “No, no, no…”

“… It’s a beautiful day… “

Chelsie shot up in her bed, beads of sweat dripping down the sides of her face. Her thoughts were disjointed, and her breaths unsteady. It took a few moments for her to gather her bearings. Chelsie blinked her eyes, her vision blurred and hazy with sleep. Inhaling deeply, Chelsie reached for her phone sitting on her nightstand and turned off her alarm clock, which was playing ‘Beautiful Day’ by U2.

1112 days. It had been 1112 days since Chelsie packed her entire life into a suitcase and drove twelve hundred miles to south Florida.

Well, not her entire life.

Chelsie rubbed the sleep from her eyes and tossed her phone onto the bed covers. She hated that dream.

Her cat, Misty, hopped onto the bed and nuzzled against her. Chelsie took comfort in the one familiar thing she still had in her life. Not that her life was bad – on the contrary. It was just… different. So many things had changed. She had changed. That had been the whole point.

Chelsie often flashed back to that last night with Noah. It had been one of the best nights of her life. It had also been the most soul crushing. That night led her on a journey of self-discovery and healing, prompting her to leave everything behind and start all over. Chelsie had needed to mend a lot of things – mostly, herself, but also her relationship with her parents. She remembered leaving a note for Lisa, grabbing her cat, then hopping into her car and driving eighteen hours straight to St. Petersburg, Florida. She’d called her mother on the way down, hysterical and lost.

“I’m coming home, mama,” she had sobbed, silently praying for her parents to accept her back into their lives.

“I’ve been waiting years to hear you say that,” her mother had replied.

That was where her adventure had begun – a little beach house on the gulf shores outside of town. It was not an easy transition. There had been many sleepless nights. There had been times where she’d cried so hard, she’d made herself sick. There were moments when she had broken down and dialed Noah’s phone number, only to quickly hang up.

But then the days started getting a little brighter, and the nights a little easier. Chelsie began looking for work as a cocktail waitress, only to run into a person who would forever change her life – Elsa Cunningham. She was a counselor. She was a speaker. She was a voice for victims of domestic violence. Elsa was hope.

Elsa had taken Chelsie under her wing and helped her heal all her broken parts. She helped Chelsie move past the dark cloud that was Ian Masterson. Elsa helped Chelsie put her life back together, starting with herself.

“A healthy soul plays the biggest role,” Elsa had told her. “You will never find happiness if you are full of self-loathing. Find happiness within yourself – then you can find happiness with another.”

Chelsie had used those words to fuel her. Even though Chelsie had tried to hide from the media, there was no escaping the infamous name she had made for herself back in the ‘Freeze Frame’ days. At first, it felt like a curse that would follow her around indefinitely – until, one day, she decided to use her notoriety to her advantage.

With Elsa’s help, Chelsie created a foundation for domestic abuse survivors called ‘Chelsie’s Calling’. She helped heal the broken and damaged souls, much like Elsa had helped Chelsie. Within two years, they had raised the funds to build a sanctuary in nearby Safety Harbor. The sanctuary was created to take women in for healing retreats, which consisted of one-on-one counseling sessions, group therapy, meditation, spa treatments, yoga, and overall self-care. Chelsie had truly found her calling. Her mission had caught on quickly, and soon Chelsie was appearing on talk shows, podcasts, and even Ellen. Chelsie had used her fame for the greater good and it was inspiring.

Chelsie had started bringing in enough income to leave her parents’ house and rent an apartment down the street from her sanctuary. One of her greatest joys was sitting on her balcony with a cup of tea and chatting with her mother each morning.

Chelsie had turned her life around. She no longer felt toxic to herself and those around her. She no longer filled her mind with poisonous, self-sabotaging thoughts. Chelsie genuinely loved herself. She loved her new life, her work, her family, and her friends. She’d made a large and loyal social circle filled with positive and motivating individuals. Along with Elsa, her dear friends Maggie, June, Thomas, and Jon were all an important part of her happiness.

Jon had asked her out on a date one afternoon a few months back. He was cute and charming, with sandy hair and freckles on his cheeks. He had stopped her one day outside the sanctuary where he worked as a guidance counselor. “Chelsie! Wait up. I wanted to see if you’d like to grab coffee with me after work.”

“You mean, a different kind of coffee from the kind we usually get?” she’d teased.

He’d ducked his head with a timid smile. “I mean, just you and me. Without the crew.”

Chelsie’s heart rate had picked up. The thought of dating anyone hadn’t dared crossed her mind. “Oh… I – I see,” she’d stuttered, feeling flustered and unsure. “That’s sweet of you to ask, but I’m sort of unavailable.”

“We can do tomorrow,” he’d said. He had looked eager and anxious.

“I’m sorry, Jon. I meant… I’m unavailable. You know – emotionally.”

Chelsie’s friends had known about her past life in New York. They had watched her relationship with Devon Sawyer unfold and fall apart on national news. They knew about Ian and the attack. They knew about her deep-rooted emotional trauma.

But… they didn’t know about Noah. They knew he existed, of course, but Chelsie had never talked about their unexpected friendship, profound connection, or whirlwind romance that had been cut short. They didn’t know she had fallen in love with him.

Chelsie often wondered if Noah still thought about her. She had kept tabs on him through the media and various social outlets. He was a proclaimed solo artist now. His arm had fully healed, and he’d picked up playing guitar again. Noah never went back to Freeze Frame, and the band eventually dissolved, the remaining members going off to pursue their own creative outlets. None of them had created anything worthwhile, except for Noah.

Noah Hayes was the country’s most promising, rising star. He’d released a hit single called ‘Aria’ about a year after Chelsie had left town. The song was about herself, that she knew. She’d spent many nights crying herself to sleep while the song played on repeat, haunting her bedroom with old memories and a painful echo of what could have been. Noah’s lyrics and the sound of his voice cut through her like a hot knife. It had felt like he was speaking directly to her. God, it hurt. It hurt more than she could possibly put into words.

But it was the right thing to do.

Noah Hayes was married now. He had tied the knot with Beth Jessup six months ago. They had a baby together named Jeremiah. Sam was a big brother.

All of it hurt.

Chelsie had to make a conscious effort each morning to remind herself of her wonderful life. She had made her choice, and she didn’t regret it. It was for the best. Noah was happy. Chelsie was happy. It never would have worked.

Still… she loved him. She always would. Chelsie had no desire to date or get married or fall in love with someone else. Noah would always have her heart.

So, she’d gently rejected Jon’s coffee invitation, hopeful they could still be friends. Jon had been disappointed, but he had understood.

Chelsie’s back-up alarm began to go off and she frantically turned it off. It was time for work. Her job was only a five-minute bike ride away, which was one of its many perks.

Chelsie made her way out of bed and headed towards the bathroom to turn on the shower. As she pulled a fresh towel out of her hall closet, her phone began vibrating on the bathroom sink. Chelsie ignored it and continued to fetch a washcloth and a new bar of soap. It buzzed again.

“Fine, I’ll bite,” she muttered, closing the closet door and walking back into the bathroom.

It was two missed calls from Lisa.

Chelsie had made amends with Lisa a few months after she’d left. They’d had an epic four-hour phone conversation and their friendship was saved. While they hadn’t seen each other in person since Chelsie left, they talked regularly via text and video chats.

Chelsie frowned when Lisa’s name lit up the screen for a third time. She answered quickly. “Lisa? What’s up?”

“Hey,” Lisa replied on the other end. “Did you see the news?”

A ball of anxiety twisted inside Chelsie’s stomach. “No, I just woke up. Why? What happened?”

“Chels… it’s Devon.”

“Devon?” Chelsie said in bewilderment. “What about Devon?”

Lisa fell silent on the other end, as if she were afraid to tell her.

“Lisa, what happened?”

“I’m so sorry, Chelsie. Devon is dead.”

Chelsie froze. Her blood ran cold. She could feel the color leaving her face and nausea creeping up into her esophagus. Was it possible she’d misheard her? “W – What?”

“They found him in his condo early this morning. The media is saying it was a drug overdose, but no one knows for sure yet.”

How could this be real? Chelsie hadn’t spoken to Devon in years, but this news shook her to the core. She had loved Devon Sawyer. She had created a life with him. She had seen a future with him.

Now, he was gone.

“Oh, my God… I don’t know what to say,” Chelsie choked out, bile rising in the back of her throat.

“I’m sorry I had to be the messenger,” Lisa said. Her voice was solemn. “I didn’t want you to see it on the news first.”

“I appreciate you calling me. I… I can’t believe it.”

Lisa paused. “Chels, do you need me to come down to stay with you? I don’t want you to go through this alone.”

Chelsie forced a smile. “Thank you, Lis, but I’ll be okay. I’m not alone at all.”

“Well, I’ll let you go,” Lisa replied with a sigh. “I’m so sorry.”

Chelsie was about to say her goodbyes, when a thought popped into her head. “Hey… can you let me know if there’s a service or something?”

Lisa hesitated. “You would come to New York?”

A bundle of nerves bubbled in Chelsie’s gut. “Yeah. I think I’d like to be there.”

“I’ll definitely keep you posted then.”

“Thanks, Lisa,” Chelsie replied. “Love you.”

Chelsie set the phone back down on the bathroom sink. Her old life flashed through her mind, buried memories clawing their way to the surface. She recalled all the sweet moments she’d shared with Devon – from their very first coffee date, to their bonding session over pot stickers at one of the band’s practices. She remembered the way she had felt when she’d picked up the phone that fateful day and heard Devon’s voice on the other line. She couldn’t believe he had called her after she’d stormed out of their V.I.P. suite.

It was a lifetime ago. Chelsie had been a completely different person then. Frightened, insecure, and ridden with guilt. She’d be lying if she said those guilty feelings weren’t inching their way back into her psyche – Chelsie had always felt responsible for Devon’s foray into the drug world.

She shook her head and took a long, calming breath. It wasn’t her fault. None of it was her fault.

The days proceeded on like a bad dream. Reporters had started coming out of the woodwork, asking for an interview and wanting to know how she felt about Devon’s death.

Horrible. Sick. Sad. That’s how any normal person would feel about the death of someone they once loved. Chelsie tried to avoid the cameras and media frenzy. She buried herself in her work and her relationships. She had spent an afternoon shopping with her mother and fishing with her father. She had enjoyed a quiet lunch with Elsa and Maggie. Chelsie appreciated the busy schedule – it kept her mind off things.

Chelsie’s phone buzzed one morning as she strolled into work.

“Good morning, Chelsie!” June greeted, as she ran a basket of spa towels down to the laundry room.

Chelsie smiled at her friend, then reached into her pocket for her phone. It was a text from Lisa.

“The service is tomorrow at three o’clock. Can you make it?”

Chelsie’s breath caught in her throat. That was in less than thirty-six hours. She had to research flight times, transportation, hotel… was this even realistic? Should she leave the past in the past?

June had stalled in her tracks after noticing the worried look on Chelsie’s face. “You okay, girl? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

Chelsie glanced up, distracted. “Huh? Oh, sorry. I – I just found out that Devon’s service is tomorrow. I wanted to be there, but I’m not sure I can swing it.”

Elsa poked her head out of her office. “Chelsie, go home. Book your flight. We’ll see you when you get back.”

Chelsie folded her lips between her teeth. She noticed her hand was trembling, so she put her phone back into her pocket. “I don’t know…”

“You need closure, Chels!” June spoke up. “You need this. You’ll always have this hanging over you if you don’t go. Say your goodbyes, girlfriend.”

“She’s right,” Elsa agreed, leaning against the doorframe. “Closure is necessary for healing. Take all the time you need.”

It was settled. Chelsie Combs was headed back to New York.