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“I have to catch him!”
He caught my arm. “Stop.” Forcing me to pause, he wrapped me in his strong arms and held me tight. “Listen to me, Rayne. You have to give him time to cool off. Trust that when his anger calms down he’ll see things rationally. It’s Hale. I know how he is. He loves you. Give him time and he’ll come around.”
I sniffled against his chest, terrified that the longer I stood there the more I was losing him.
What if he didn’t come around? What if he finally realized I was too much of a hot mess for his tidy, perfect world and things would be easier with someone who was less of a calamity?
“I have to go.”
This time he didn’t stop me.
Hale was long gone by the time I made it outside. My walk of shame brought no answers. The pain in my feet concerned me and I was grateful for how quickly I found a cab. I needed a shower and something for my head so I could get past this awful throbbing and think.
But I wasn’t sure anything could fix the ache in my heart or fix me and Hale.
My life was officially in crisis mode. I read over all of Hale’s texts on the cab ride back to Manhattan. His worry and panic broke me.
How could I have been so irresponsible and selfish? What was wrong with me that I couldn’t talk to him? I should have told him about my father and trusted him to handle it the moment it happened. But I didn’t.
All this overthinking about prenuptial agreements and trust had diluted my common sense and awakened my insecurities. My dad didn’t help matters either, since he was the root of my abandonment fears.
For months, I scrutinized Hale, constantly wondering if he was keeping secrets or if his trust issues were starting to impact us. When, in reality, I had just as many trust issues and secrets as him.
I hated that my insecurities could sometimes cripple me. I knew better than to let toxic self-doubt in. Usually we helped each other with that. But we couldn’t help each other if we shut each other out.
Hale… He was just a private guy who was still learning to share. I, on the other hand, clammed up whenever I got scared.
My trust issues came from a fear of abandonment that my dad had planted in me when I was little girl. Hale’s came from a fear of betrayal his father created when he was a grown man. Understanding where our demons came from didn’t make them any easier to manage. They were still demons we both battled every day. Some days we beat them and some days they won.
The trick was in giving ourselves grace, accepting that we deserved love on our good days and our bad. We needed to trust each other for our relationship to work, but we were both scared. Paradoxically, the love we shared made us brave. But it was hard to be open and vulnerable when life left us fragile.
It had been wrong to keep something that hurt me so deeply from Hale. I should have trusted him to be patient as I forced the truth out. But, instead, I ran. And this was where my avoidance had landed me.
Once I reached the Plaza, the true abasement began. My excruciating walk through the lobby punctured the last of my confidence like heavy lashings. I had no choice but to accept my penance and keep my head down as strangers stared and whispered while I made my walk of shame.
I kept my gaze on the polished floor. I just needed to get to the elevators, then I needed to get to the penthouse, then I needed to face Hale, and then I could fall apart and cry.
Just get me there so this horrible sense of judgment would end…
“Ma’am, can I help you?”
Head down, I tried to ignore the bedecked bellman as I limped past the front desk.
“Ma’am, is there a guest I can call for you?”
Another staff member appeared, casually blocking my way to the elevators. I clutched my shoes to my chest, holding the ruined soles like a shield. I could only imagine what they thought.
“Ma’am, perhaps you want to step over here so we can help you.”
“I—I don’t need h—help.” I hated how my voice shook but I was holding on to my tattered composure by a thread. “I’m a guest here.”
Both hotel employees looked at me suspiciously and then traded glances. “Do you mind telling us what room?”
“I’m in the penthouse.”
Both men frowned.
I smelled of things I couldn’t name. Terrible, dirty things. The longer they detained me, the more people slowed and stared as they walked through the floral scented atrium.
