Page 118 of From This Moment (After We Fall 4)
“Jesus Christ. Hannah is not responsible for Drew’s death! How could you even think such a thing?”
She started to cry, but she kept peeling the damn potatoes. “It’s just how I feel. I lost him to her. Then I lost him forever.”
“He loved her. And you resented her for it. You want to punish her for being loved by him. And now by me.”
“Maybe I was hard on her. But she took him away from me,” she wept, “and she’ll take you, too.”
“It’s not like that, Mom. She’s not your rival. Or she wasn’t until you made her one.” I didn’t like seeing my mother in tears, but I had to get this off my chest. “You hurt her with your petty, jealous behavior. You made her daughter cry. You deceived me and embarrassed me. And you ruined my chance to be happy. You’re the one who should be ashamed of yourself.”
“Wes, please.”
“But you got what you wanted.”
She looked at me. “What do you mean?”
“Hannah and I are done. She broke it off.”
“Are you going to blame me for that?”
“Partly. But it’s partly my fault, too. If I could go back, I’d do a lot of things differently.” With that, I left her standing there in the kitchen and went up to my room to pack my things. I couldn’t stay there in that house any longer.
An hour later, I came down with my bags and headed straight for the front door. She spotted me from the kitchen and came hurrying into the foyer. “Wes? Where are you going?”
“I don’t know. Tell Dad I’ll see him tomorrow at work.”
“Don’t leave,” she said, tearing up again. “Please. I’m sorry.”
“Too late, Mom. You had the chance to support me, but you chose to judge me instead.” Two seconds later I was out the front door, heading for my car. Once it was loaded, I drove away from the house and never looked back.
Only problem was I didn’t really have anywhere to go. I wouldn’t take possession of my house for another week. There were a lot of vacation rentals in the area, but at seven p.m., it was too late to contact anyone about those. As I was driving through town, I remembered the inn. Maybe Pete and Georgia would rent me a room for a week? But Georgia had been there tonight—I cringed with embarrassment. It would put her in a really awkward position to host me, wouldn’t it? I didn’t want to cause tension between her and Hannah, or between her and Pete.
There was another bed and breakfast in town called Inn the Garden, so I went there and booked a room for a week. The owners were gracious, the house was beautiful and quiet, and it was a short walk into town for dinner.
But I was miserable.
Somehow I’d lost the one thing I’d spent all those years dreaming about. I’d been offered a second chance to make her mine, and I’d fucked it up again. I didn’t blame Hannah for being mad or scared. I’d known all along how fragile she was, how disillusioned about love. I blamed myself, because I should have fought harder, like she said. I’d tried to placate my mother when I should have stood up to her. I’d done it from a place of love, and because I’d been so sure that things would turn out fine in the end. I’d thought love would prevail.
But maybe Hannah was right. Maybe love wasn’t enough.
Pete texted me the next day and I saw the message during lunch. I heard. You okay?
Not right now, I replied. Maybe someday.
Ouch. Want to grab a beer later? Lexington Brewery at 7?
What I wanted was another chance with Hannah, but it wasn’t going to happen. OK.
After work I took a run, even though I hadn’t slept well the night before and felt rundown and exhausted. I did it because I was hoping to maybe spot her around town, but it didn’t happen. I went back to my room and cleaned up, feeling frustrated and sad.
“You look like shit,” Pete said when I took the chair next to him at the bar later on. Jack was there too.
“I feel like it.”
“Georgia and Margot told us what happened.” He shook his head. “Man. What a fucked-up situation.”
“Yeah.” I stared at the menu without reading it. “Do they hate me?”
“Not at all,” Pete said.
