Page 214 of The Way I Hate Him
What is normally a fifteen-minute trip feels like a monotonous hour of me running his conversation over and over in my head, driving myself mad.
When I reach his place, I slip out of my car, the rain really coming down now, and I run up his sidewalk, only to be startled, just like I initially was, when I find him sitting in the Adirondack chair, staring out in front of him.
“Hayes,” I say breathlessly, but he doesn’t look at me. He doesn’t even move. He keeps his head and body still, like he’s frozen in place.
Gently, I walk up to him and squat in front of his chair, placing my hands on his knees.
“What are you doing here, Hattie?” he asks, his voice distant.
“I’m not going to give you the chance to break up with me, not after today, not after everything we’ve been through. You’re not allowed to. That’s the easy way out. You need to fight these feelings, fight the demons, and let me help you do that.”
He shakes his head. “It’s not like that.”
“What do you mean it’s not like that?” I ask as water streams down my face.
“You can’t help. No one can help. And I don’t want your help. I want . . . I want you to leave.” I try not to let his words affect me as I stay put. He’s hurting, he’s distancing, he’s spiraling, and I won’t let him.
“What did she want?” I ask, referring to his mom.
“It’s none of your business.” He won’t even look at me. Not even a glance in my direction. He just keeps his eyes straight ahead.
“It is my business. You’re my person, Hayes.” I press my hand to his, but he pulls away. “We’ve been nothing but truthful and honest with each other. So why stop now?”
“You want the truth?” he asks. “You really want to know how fucked up my life is?”
“I want to be a part of your life.”
He shakes his head. “You don’t, trust me.” He stands from the chair but doesn’t head into the house. I try to capture his hand, but he pulls away, another wound to my already battered heart.
Just hours ago, he was dependent on holding my hand and touching me. How could it possibly change that quickly? What did she say to him to make him flip a switch and be a completely different man?
“Hayes—”
“What don’t you understand about me not wanting to be around you?” he shouts, startling me back. When I meet his eyes with mine, I’m greeted with emptiness. A shell of a man I was with a few hours ago. His pupils look soulless, like he’s lost every ounce of life and is just going through the motions. “I said we’re done, Hattie. Accept it and move on.”
His words feel like sharp knives, stabbing me directly in the soul, nearly bringing me to my knees. And if it weren’t for the earlier half of the day, I probably would have crumpled to the ground by now, where I’d have wept until someone found me. But he’s saying these things to push me away because, for some reason, he has it in his head that his life would be better alone than with the person he loves.
“You don’t mean it,” I say. “You’re trying to push me away because of what your mom said to you. Don’t you realize—”
“It’s because I can’t trust you,” he shouts. “Jesus Christ, do I have to spell it out for you?”
I feel my lip tremble, but I take a deep breath before I answer. “Hayes—”
“Your own sister didn’t even fucking trust you.”
I pause.
The air in my lungs seizing as I meet his soulless gaze.
“What did you just say?” I ask, my body shaking from the chill of the rain and the pain ricocheting through me.
“Cassidy, she didn’t even trust you. She didn’t leave you the shop; she didn’t leave you Mac. She left you nothing.”
“Don’t.” I shake my head. “Don’t bring her into this just to be cruel.”
“It’s not cruel when it’s the facts.” He places his hands in his pockets and stares down at me. “If your own sister can’t trust you, how the fuck am I supposed to trust you?”
For the life of me, I can’t think of a response because I’m so stunned, so shocked that he’d throwthosewords out there, bringing up one of my biggest insecurities. Not even an insecurity but a question that has been resting heavily on my chest ever since we lost Cassidy, a question that’s haunted me to the point I couldn’t even concentrate during school.
