Page 224 of The Way I Hate Him
“I’ll text you my order,” Ryland says as he jogs after Mac.
“I’ll text you too,” Aubree says as she leans back in her chair, relief set in her shoulders. I can’t imagine what she must be feeling right now.
So I walk over to her and tug on her hand, forcing her to stand. When she does, I wrap my arms around her.
“I love you, Aubree.”
She’s stiff for a moment, but then she relaxes into my embrace and squeezes me hard.
She doesn’t say anything but doesn’t need to.I know.Her heavy breaths and the feel of her arms around me show me that her bottled-up stress has been alleviated.
When I pull away, I look her in her glassy eyes and hold out my hand to her. “Business partner?”
A watery smile passes over her lips as she shakes my hand. “Business partner.”
I offer her a smile. “I still expect you to help in the shop, especially with Ethel.”
She shakes her head. “In your dreams.”
* * *
HAYES
“So you’re not goingto talk?” Abel asks as he sits across from me.
“What did you expect me to do?” I ask. “Gab about how shitty my life is?”
“Yeah.”
I push back in my chair and twist my beer on the table in front of me. “Not happening.”
“Okay, then why did you agree to meet me for dinner?”
“It was either that or you were coming to my house. Since kicking you out of my house is a lot harder than just standing and leaving a restaurant, I chose meeting you.”
“Sound logic.” He takes a bite of the pickle on his plate. “But I did buy you dinner. Therefore, it’s a requirement for you to talk to me. Out of courtesy.”
“What the hell do you want me to say?” I ask, tossing my hand up. “Hattie and I are no longer together. My mom extorted me for money. And I’m pretty sure I’m out of a label contract that could have distracted me from the rest of the bullshit in my life.”
“Yeah, I hear you. But don’t you think it’s good you can’t rely on the kind of distraction you used to?” he asks.
“What does that mean?”
He dabs his mouth with a napkin. “Anytime anything has triggered you, you’ve resorted to past behaviors. Getting lost in sex, alcohol, or drugs.”
“I don’t do drugs anymore.”
“Which I’m happy to hear,” he says. “What about sex . . .”
“What’s the point?” I ask, tipping back my beer. “No one will compare to Hattie.”
And that’s the fucking truth. She . . . I got so lost in everything about that woman, and then I went and blew it. I said the shittiest things to her during a low point in my life, and I fucked up. Does she deserve better? Of course. Should she be as far away from me as possible? Fuck yes, she should. Doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt, though. Doesn’t mean I don’t miss her.
Doesn’t mean I don’t think about her every second of every goddamn day.
“From the sag in your shoulders and your avoidance of eye contact, I’m going to presume you believe you messed up when you pushed Hattie away.”
I shake my head. “No, I did the right thing.”
