Page 85 of The Way I Hate Him
The weight of my grief.
The weight of last night . . .
Frustration weighs so heavily on me that I actually feel sick to my stomach. I don’t know what I was thinking, but the copious amounts of alcohol went to my head, and I nearly threw myself at Hayes—only for him to basically pat me on the ass and send me back to my room. It was humiliating and frustrating at the same time. All I could think about was how it felt to have him touch me. It was so maddening that I had to finish myself off.
And this morning, when he was playing his guitar out on his deck, I skulked out of his house, trying to put on a happy face for Maggie despite this war of embarrassment spinning through me.
How could he rev me up like that, get me so hot, and then just . . . walk away as if I have zero impact on him and don’t matter? I’m not enticing enough for him to even finish the job?
It makes me feel undesirable, cheap, and like the age difference between us is a deciding factor...like I’m naive and far too inexperienced for him to grant me the time of day.
Humiliation is what I feel. But that’s not what I say to Maggie to answer how I feel.
“Okay,” I say.
“You’re quiet,” Maggie points out. “Which means you’re thinking. You shouldn’t be thinking.”
“Hard not to,” I answer as I turn down Almond Ave and head straight toward The Almond Store. “It was fun while it lasted, Maggie, but now I have to return to the regular world.”
“I can understand that,” she says. “But remember what we talked about? Ryland and Aubree are going through a lot of changes. Give them a moment.”
And she thinks I’m talking about my brother and sister when, in reality, the perplexing confusion I feel now is all because of Hayes.
How he treated me with care last night but yet, set impossible boundaries...an impenetrable barrier.
The rift between him and Ryland.It bothers him.
Despite him not reciprocating last night, his restraint has made me like him that much more.He cares.
Fuck, I really do feel sick.
Not to mention the importance of this week . . .
Too sick to even talk about Hayes, I say, “Cassidy’s birthday is this week. It’ll be her first birthday since her death. I think Ryland and Aubree are doing something, but I haven’t heard from them.”
“Are you going to ask them?”
“Do you think I should?” I ask, keeping the subject on them and not on Hayes. That’s why Maggie came here in the first place.
“Yes,” she says. “They’re still your brother and sister. Just because things are awkward doesn’t mean you should pull away. If anything, you need to keep pushing to be close to them. Maybe offer to make dinner one night this week. Or to watch Mac. I’m sure Ryland could use a break. I know Aubree doesn’t want help with the shop, but there has to be something you can do to support her. Maybe clean her house or do her laundry. You have spare time when you’re not at Hayes’s place, so why not find out what little things you can help with?”
“Yeah, I guess I can do that. Watching Mac would be a good one for Ryland. And Aubree, I think I might have to work on her, but there has to be something.” It might also help me get my mind off everything with Hayes. Distraction. I need distractions.
“Exactly. Just keep trying. Maybe they’ll stop pushing you away when they see how you can help.”
“Smart,” I say. “Okay, I’ll text them and see what I can do.”
“Perfect.” We pull into the back parking lot of The Almond Store. When I put the car in park, Maggie turns toward me and hugs me. “And now about Hayes . . .”
Crap, and here I thought I was going to avoid that.
I wondered this morning if she heard us, if she heard me moan for him, but she never said anything. She just went about her morning as if nothing happened.
“What about him?” I ask, trying to play it cool.
“Don’t get involved unless you can handle the ramifications.”
“What do you mean? You were encouraging me to get involved with him this weekend.”
