Page 230 of The Way I Hate Him
What the hell is he doing here?
A strong knock echoes through the more than empty home, and I make my way from the couch to the front door.
When I open it, he doesn’t bother saying hi. He just welcomes himself in and heads right to the couch where he takes a seat.
Okay.
I shut the door behind him and follow him into the living room, where I say, “Uh . . . want a drink or something?”
“No.” He presses his hands to his legs, looking jittery. “Take a seat.”
Confused, I sit, and when his eyes level with mine, he says, “I’m sorry.”
Okay, was not expecting that.
Could I see him gearing up to punch my face in? Yup.
Maybe lecture me on how I’m such a dick for hurting his sister? Absolutely.
But an apology? No, not even for a second would I have believed that coming out of his mouth.
“For what?” I ask.
“For treating you the way your parents treated you.”
Oh . . . fuck . . .
“Ryland, that’s not—”
“Don’t give me any excuses,” he says, looking more serious than ever. “I owe you this.” He takes a deep breath and says, “You deserved so much more than my accusations. You deserved more thanmybetrayal. I abandoned you. You deserved my trust, my friendship, and yet, I turned my back on you. That was shitty of me, and the more I think about it, the more I know . . . you wouldn’t have done that to me. You would never have betrayed me because your loyalty is one of your best qualities. It’s why we became friends in the first place . . . when you defended me on the playground from Lyonel Redbach. You stuck by my side ever since, and the minute I thought you wronged me, I pushed you to the side.” He shakes his head. “It’s inexcusable, and I’m sorry.”
“You were in a shit headspace,” I say.
“Don’t excuse me.”
“But it’s true.” I don’t let up. “I should have followed up with you, I should have talked to you when you cooled down, but I acted like a stubborn ass—”
“You acted like someone who’d already lost his trust in the people supposed to love you and be there for you. There’s no excuse, Hayes. I fucked up and I’m sorry.”
Uncomfortable, I smooth down my jeans with my palms and say, “Well, water under the bridge.”
“No, it’s not.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“It means that we need to fix this.”
“What more is there to fix?” I pull on my hat. “You want to be texting friends now?”
He chuckles and shakes his head. “I mean with Hattie.”
Oh.
Should have known he was here for that.
“Listen—”
“No, you listen,” Ryland says, his voice turning darker. “I told you not to fucking hurt her, didn’t I?” I nod. “And you did.”
