Page 155 of The Way I Hate Him
“I’m assuming they’re not really in your life. You speak to your grandma, though.”
“Because she raised me,” I answer. “My dad wasn’t a great guy. Didn’t know much about him, only can truly remember seeing the taillights of his car as he drove away. Haven’t heard from him since. He didn’t have the balls to try to come back into my life when I started hitting it big. My mom, well, she just decided one day she didn’t want to be a parent anymore. Told me that in a letter she gave me and left me with my grandma.”
“Oh my God,” Hattie says, turning toward me. “That’s awful. How old were you?”
“Twelve,” I answer. “She went to live in Arizona with Ray, her now husband. They own a pawn shop together. The first time she heard me on the radio, she called me to congratulate me and asked if I wanted to celebrate. I told her to fuck off. She’s come back a few times since then, wanting to celebrate my accomplishments, but I haven’t let her. The night Samantha cheated on Ryland, I actually got in a fight with her on the phone. I resorted to old habits, got so fucked up. It’s why Samantha found it easy to say I fucked her, because she didn’t think I’d remember either way. But trust me, I remember everything from that night. Every goddamn thing.” I pause. It took me so long to see that my mom was in the wrong, but it certainly wasn’t that night. I’ve never told a soul, as who have I had to tell?But now I have Hattie.“That was the night my mom told me she should have never had me in the first place because I was a selfish prick who wouldn’t help her out with money. You don’t forget things like that.”
“I’m so sorry,” Hattie says softly. “I . . . I didn’t know. I shouldn’t have asked.”
“I’m glad you did,” I say, taking her hand in mine. “I want to be honest with you about everything. The more you ask, the more I’ll tell you the truth, and the more you’ll know.”
“Well, you deserve better,” she says. “I’m glad you have your grandma. I assume you’re close.”
“We are. She has her moments when I know she resented me at points in my life. I mean, I was a twelve-year-old punk broken by abandonment. I lashed out every chance I got. It’s probably why I haven’t had any real relationships, and most certainly why I didn’t fight for Ryland, because if he wanted to leave too and not listen to my side of the story, then I was good with him leaving. Wouldn’t be the first person, wouldn’t be the last.”
“Do you still have that mindset?” she asks.
“I like to think that I don’t since it’s something I’ve worked on, but I can’t make any promises. I struggle deeply with abandonment.”
“I can see why.” She gets on her hands and knees and crawls between my legs, leaning her back against my chest. I wrap my arms around her and as she turns her head up to look at me, she puckers her lips. I place a soft kiss on her mouth, and she turns back around.
I grip her tightly, soaking in the comfort from her warm, soft body, the sweet scent of her perfume, and the understandable hold she has on my heart.I have no idea how I’ve existed without this level of closeness.Hattie’s showing me exactly what’s been missing in my life. Genuine care and affection. Warmth. Acceptance.And I never want to lose this.
“I never knew about that side of your life because you were shunned from the family by the time I was old enough to be a part of these conversations. Did Ryland know?”
“Ryland and Abel know everything. The only thing Ryland doesn’t know is what my life has been like since the fight.”
“Has anything changed since then?”
“Nothing of significance,” I answer. “Honestly, it’s almost as if I’ve been walking around in a haze for the last decade or so. There aren’t many things that stick out to me other than professional accomplishments. Those are great and all, but not when you don’t have anyone to share them with.”
“You had your grandma and Abel.”
I nod. “And Ruben, he’s my agent. But that’s pretty much it.”
“How do you feel now? Still feel like you’re in that haze?”
“No,” I answer. “The moment you stepped onto my porch with a box, it was like the haze lifted. I was intrigued that you were Ryland’s sister. The dangerous side of me wanted to play around to fuck with him, but as I spent more time with you, I realized the damage I could do, and that’s when I started to pull away, which proved to be too hard. I tried to return to that haze, but it was impossible with you walking around the house every day.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re not back there now.”
I kiss the side of her neck gently and ask, “What about you? Do you ever miss your parents?”
“Sometimes,” she says. I can’t imagine what losing your mom to breast cancer and then your dad to a heart attack does to such a little girl. She was lucky to have Ryland and Cassidy, who stepped up and took care of their younger sisters. “I didn’t know my mom all that well, but from what I heard, she wasn’t entirely the most loving, caring mom. And Dad, well, secretly, I was kind of glad he died. He was . . . just awful.”
I hold her tighter. I have strong memories of how Mr. and Mrs. Rowley treated their kids.That’s what I had to refer to them as too.They weren’t warm people. The day Mr. Rowley beat Ryland with his own glove after a game where he struck out three times has been imprinted on my mind. He berated him behind the dugout, telling Ryland he wasn’t working his way to the grave to see his son strike out. Their parents might have put a roof over their heads and food on the table, but they were cold. Mean. I place a kiss on Hattie’s forehead, hoping desperately she never received her father’s wrath, something that got worse after Mrs. Rowley died.
“Dad...well, you probably know this, but he hit Ryland. He never raised a hand to me, but he was awful to Ryland. Would make sure Ryland had a hard time waking up the next morning. It’s why I was so attached to Cassidy, because she was the main adult figure in my life who offered me the comfort and love every little kid desired. Even when she got married and had Mac, I was still very much a part of her life.”
“I’m glad you had her and I’m sorry that she was taken away.”
“Thank you,” she says softly. “There are days where I still can’t believe she’s gone, like this is some sort of sick prank, but after spending a week in her room, I think it’s starting to sink in.”
“Do you think it helped?”
“Yes,” she says. “I think I needed to have that connection with her, that moment. She passed when I was still at college. She wouldn’t let me come home. She said she was fine and she was going to make it. Well, I think we know how that turned out. Coming back into town, not feeling her warm hug, or seeing her brilliant smile, or hearing how proud she is of me . . .” I hear the waver in her voice so I pull her in even closer.
“It’s okay, Hattie.”
