Page 93 of The Way I Hate Him
“Come on, Ryland, all she had to do was graduate. That’s it. And she couldn’t even do that. You’re taking care of a goddamn child, sleeping on a couch every night, barely making it day to day while putting on a happy smile. I’m drowning in responsibilities I never fucking asked for while helping you any chance I can, and all she had to do was graduate.”
Caught off guard by her anger, I say, “I could help you, Aubree, but you won’t let me.”
“Because you can’t!” Aubree says. “It’s in her goddamn will.”
What? I glance between my siblings. Ryland is pinching his brow, and Aubree looks like she’s about to have a mental breakdown. What was in her will?
What is she talking about? And why don’t I know about her will? And that’s when it hits me. They shuttled me back to school before the will was read.They pushed me away from them even then.
“Aubree, enough,” Ryland says.
“No, she needs to know.” Aubree turns toward me and places her hands on the table, looking deep into my soul. “As much as we would all LOVE your help, we can’t accept a goddamn hand from you until you graduate. Cassidy required it. She knew that instead of finishing school, you’d want to cling to her memory when she passed. And she was so fucking right.” She tosses her hand in the air. “Ryland said to give you a chance to finish. It’s why we didn’t say anything at first, but like I told you from the beginning, Ryland, we should have said something because at least maybe she would have applied herself.”
“You’re not being fair,” I say.
“None of this is fair, Hattie,” Aubree says, tears forming in her eyes, something I’ve only seen a handful of times. “Losing Cassidy, taking on these responsibilities, working until we pass out every fucking day, none of it is fair. Trust me, if I could have you help, I would. I’d return to the things I love rather than running a store that was always a mere job to me before we lost Cassidy.” She stands from the table, and as she walks away, Ryland stands as well.
“Wait,” I say before he can leave too. “Ryland, I had no clue, I . . . I’m sorry.”
“I know you didn’t,” he says as he goes after Aubree, leaving me to sit at the table, alone, stewing in my own thoughts.
In my own guilt.
Why did you do this, Cassidy?
Why wouldn’t you let me help them?
You thought you were helping me, but in reality, you’ve just driven a wedge between me and my siblings.
A wedge that seems to get bigger and bigger with every day that passes.
* * *
Bag in hand,I get out of my car and lock it up before heading over to Hayes’s waiting vehicle.
It wasn’t long after Aubree left the table that I left. I waited for Ryland to return so Mac had eyes on her, but I took off. I thanked him for dinner and apologized one more time. He didn’t say anything. I’m not sure he has much to say to me other than he’s disappointed in me.
I don’t blame him.
I’m disappointed in myself as well.
And I hate to admit it, but Aubree had very valid points. I’m not the only one mourning. I had one simple task—to focus on school. Aubree juggles two businesses that she isn’t one hundred percent familiar with, and Ryland takes care of a four-year-old with spider fingers. In the grand scheme of it all, I was the one who got off easy.
Yet I’m jealous of them.
They have a piece of Cassidy, and I have . . . I have nothing.
I’d rather have the stresses they feel daily than the feeling of loss and disconnect.
I should have been part of the team to keep her memory alive.
Why didn’t she allow that?
Why . . . why was she pushing me away as well?
I open the door to Hayes’s back seat and set my bag down, only to move forward to the front seat, where I buckle up.
“No hello?” he asks.
