“Do you take requests?”

Amy looked up in surprise. She was seated at the piano in a darkened corner of the bar. She’d been playing covers for the past half hour, but she could have sworn none of the patrons in the overcrowded room were even aware of her existence.

“What’s your pleasure?” she asked, trying her best to cast a flirtatious smile at the man in the business suit.

“Do you know any Adele?”

Amy chuckled. It didn’t come as a surprise, that request. Adele had been the big winner at the Grammy’s the night before. It was a shame that she could never hear the name without it bringing to mind someone else entirely.

Amy had been glued to the TV for the whole Grammy Awards telecast, of course. Rumor had it that Adam Levine would be in attendance this year, and he hadn’t disappointed. There he was on the red carpet – smiling his Hollywood smile, with his beloved Jane on his arm. The story had come out by now, how his wife had been in a coma. If she’d been a media darling before, now she was practically royalty. Everyone loved a good miracle. Everyone loved a happy ending.

Amy had cracked open a bottle of red wine and sat sipping it as she watched Adam laugh and twirl his wife in a graceful pirouette, before catching her in his arms and kissing her. 

“Do you know any Adele?“ the man had asked. “Sure,” she thought, “I know a few Adeles too many.” Of course she didn’t say that. She wasn’t that drunk. Not yet.

“Sure,” she said instead. “I know a song or two.”

He nodded and moved away, and she took a moment to think through the track list of the Adele albums she had listened to once in Adam’s library. It felt like a lifetime ago – but in reality, it had only been a few months. Adam had taken those CDs and hidden them away in his bedside table after that day she’d first stumbled upon them. Those songs were never meant for her.

The man had made a request though, and it was her job to give him what he wanted. Anyway, she only needed to hear a song once before she could produce a reasonably accurate facsimile. She hadn’t realized it was such a rare skill, but it had impressed the hell out of the bar owner. She closed her eyes for a moment, silently running through the song she had in mind to make sure she could recall most of the words and all of the chord changes. 

Then she took a swig of liquid courage from the bottle she had propped up on top of the piano, and she began to play the accompaniment to Someone Like You.

I heard that you're settled down,
That you found a girl,
And you're married now.
I heard that your dreams came true...

***

Adam pressed his foot on the accelerator, willing the car to move faster as he sped toward his house in Beverly Hills. All the while, in his mind, he went over and over the last conversation he’d had with Jane before he left for the studio that morning.

“Are you feeling OK?” he had asked her. She’d been lingering in bed all morning, snoozing off and on, and he’d touched her shoulder gently to rouse her as he sat on the edge of the bed.

“Just peachy.” She’d swatted his hand away in irritation and rolled onto her side, curling herself into the fetal position.

He’d sat and watched her for a moment, wondering if he should postpone his studio session and stay home with her and Adele instead.

“Go,” she growled at him without opening her eyes. “I’m fine.”

“Are you?” he asked. He hoped it was true. That she was fine. That they were fine.  Of course, they were putting on a good show of it in public. They were all smiles and laughter on the Grammy red carpet last night. But the cameras hadn’t shown how they’d left half way through the ceremony. The cameras had missed the exhaustion on Jane’s face during the car ride home, and the way she’d limped so badly he had to prop her up by the elbow when they finally made their way inside.

She’d fallen asleep the moment her head hit the pillow, and he’d spent the night as he usually did these days – watching her sleep.

He could usually keep the dark thoughts at bay during the daytime, but at night, when she slept – well, he hadn’t had a good night’s sleep since the day he brought her home from the hospital. He had a horrible feeling he couldn’t shake, no matter how hard he tried to talk himself out of it. He knew – he just knew – one of these nights, she was going to go to sleep and never wake up again.

Of course, she’d had all kinds of tests and scans, and the doctors all seemed to think her condition was stable. He wanted to believe them. But these were the same doctors who’d had no idea if she would ever regain consciousness. The same doctors who’d let her slip away into unconsciousness in the first place.

What did they know? No, their expert medical opinions didn’t do much to alleviate his fears. He spent his nights keeping vigil, silently willing her to sigh or roll over in her sleep – to give him a sign that she was just asleep and nothing more. He would lie next to her, listening for any change in the rhythm of her breathing. And he would burn. That was the hell of it. She looked the same as she’d always looked. She didn’t look like an invalid. She looked perfect. She felt perfect when he touched her. It took every ounce of his self-control during those long dark nights, not to reach across the bed – not to reach out and take her in his arms and hold her and kiss her and....

Adam took a deep breath as he drove, trying to distract himself from his line of thought. He flicked on the radio. The reception was bad on this particular stretch of freeway, and he had to hit scan, stopping at the first station that came in clearly.

And I find it kind of funny.
I find it kind of sad.
The dreams in which I'm dyin'
Are the best I've ever had...

He let out a bark of laughter. It was that Tears for Fears song again. What was it with that song and bad radio reception? Like it was haunting him or something.

I find it hard to tell you
'Cause I find it hard to take.
When people run in circles,
It's a very, very…

The car lurched as he hit a seam in the pavement, and the music faded out, lost again in static.

That’s how it was with her – with Jane. At least that was his fear. She was so fragile. One of these days, she was going to jar something loose, and whatever wire had been reconnected to bring her back to him would disconnect again.

He wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold out, though, the way he’d been going. His body screamed for her every night. But he couldn’t touch her. He didn’t dare. Not yet. She wasn’t ready. She wasn’t strong enough. So he spent his nights keeping watch instead.

The doctors had given him a list of warning signs to keep in mind. Excessive sleepiness, excessive irritability, severe headaches…

Headaches. How could he have missed it this morning? How could he have forgotten? She’d spent the whole morning drifting in and out of sleep. And then she’d snapped at him irritably. And then when he’d pressed her again she’d said, “I’m sorry. I’ve just got a splitting headache right now.” He’d sat there and watched as she shut her eyes and dug the heels of her hands into her eye sockets.

Her words reverberated in his mind now. He had heard her say them once before. A different morning – a different day when he was due in the studio, and she’d had a headache, and he’d left her there to sleep. And he hadn’t even bothered to say goodbye.

“I’ve just got a splitting headache right now.”

He suppressed a shudder and pressed down his foot, watching his speedometer hit 70, then 80, then 90.

The house was quiet when he finally pulled up into the driveway and hurried inside. It was Adele’s naptime. He hadn’t expected her to be up. But Jane should have been out of bed by now. How many hours had it been since he’d left?

“Jane?” he called out into the silence.

There was no answer. He bounded up the stairs and raced to the bedroom, flinging open the door. She was lying in bed, asleep. Dead to the world. He lurched over to her and shook her roughly, letting out a cry of despair as he watched her still form and her expressionless face.

And then her eyes flew open.

“What the hell, Adam?”

His heart was pounding as if he’d just finished running a marathon.  He gasped for breath and sat down heavily on the edge of the bed.

Jane spoke again, her voice tinged with alarm. “What happened? Is it Adele?”

“What? No. Adele’s fine.” He put his head in his hands, struggling to regain his composure.

Jane watched him for a moment, and then she crawled across the bed to where he was sitting. He felt her come up behind him and slip her arms around his waist, resting her chin on top of his shoulder.

“Adam,” she whispered, her breath tickling his ear. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Don’t lie to me.”

He let out a breath, trying to get ahold of himself, but it came out more like a choked sob. She had her body pressed against his back, molded to him. He turned and took her in his arms, burying his face in her hair and breathing in her scent. She stayed still and let him hold her, gently stroking his head, before she spoke again in a barely audible whisper.

“What is it?” she said. “Is it—Adam, is it her?”

He pulled away and looked down into her face, not understanding her question. “Who?” he asked in confusion.

She stared back at him, narrowing her eyes as she tried to assess whether his response was genuine.

“You know who,” she said at last. “Is it the other one? The other Jane?”

***

…I hate to turn up out of the blue uninvited,
But I couldn't stay away. I couldn't fight it.

Amy had her eyes closed, lost in the song, feeling every word of it pour out of her from somewhere deep inside her chest. She wasn’t even aware that the bar had fallen silent. All eyes in the place had turned to watch her.

I had hoped you'd see my face and that you'd be reminded
That for me it isn't over…

***

Adam stared back at his wife, dumbfounded. “There is no other Jane.”

“Don’t lie to me, Adam.”                                                                                                    

He shook his head. “No.”

“You’re in love with her.”

“What are talking about?”

She had pulled away from him and stood up. He saw her hands starting to shake, and she crossed them in front of her chest to stop their trembling. “I heard you tell her, Adam. I could hear you!”

“When?” he breathed.

“In the hospital. That night.” She shook her head at him. “Don’t you remember?”

“I didn’t—“ He stood and tried to reach for her, but she backed away. “Jane, I—“ He stood by, impotently, as he watched her face begin to crumple.

“You don’t have to lie,” she said, struggling not to cry. “I understand. Really. You were lonely. I was gone a long time.”

She knew. Oh Jane, she knew. “I didn’t mean to,” he whispered, clamping his mouth closed for a moment before continuing. “Janie, I didn’t—I didn’t think you were ever coming back.”

She nodded, looking at the floor as she spoke. “You should go,” she said. “You should be with her. You don’t have to stay with me out of some sense of obligation.”

“That’s not—“ He shook his head in disbelief. “Jane, I love you. You’re my life!”

Jane lifted her eyes and met his, and he watched as the tears she’d been holding back started to stream down her face. “Don’t lie anymore,” she said. “Please. Do what you need to do. Just no more lies.”

 “I love you.”

“Don’t lie.”

“How can you say that?”

“Actions speak louder than words, Adam.”

His breathing was growing ragged again as he stood facing her. She knew. She knew he had cheated. She was telling him to leave. Was he losing her? He shook his head. He’d only just got her back. His voice was rough with panic as he answered her. “What?” he said. “What actions? What do you want me to do?”

“You haven’t even touched me since I came back home. Not once.”

“It’s not because of—you think it’s because of her?”

“Isn’t it?”

“No!”

“What then?”

Adam felt something snap inside him. She thought – how could she think that? Didn’t she have any idea how badly he wanted her? It was killing him, how badly he wanted her.

He crossed the room to her in one stride and jerked her body against his, kissing her hard, brutally, unable to hold back his need any longer. He felt her hands rise to his chest, trying to push him away, but he only gripped her more firmly. She began tearing at his clothes, clawing at the skin of his chest. Punishing him. Scarring him. And then her arms wrapped up around his neck, clinging to him with all her strength. He pushed her backward, pressing her down against the bed. She was still in her nightgown, and he bunched the fabric up against her thighs and around her waist as he continued to assault her mouth with his. She arched her body against him, tugging at his belt buckle. But she couldn’t get it open. Her fingers were too clumsy. Her hands were shaking too much.

Adam jerked away as if someone had touched him with a hot iron. Their chests were both heaving as they each struggled to catch their breath. “What?” she gasped.

“I can’t,” he choked out.

Then he turned and bolted from the room, slamming the door behind him.