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She finishes chewing. “If by ruthless, you mean truthful, then yes.”
We empty our bowls, then I grab them and rinse them in the sink. I let out a yawn and realize how tired my eyes are when I blink, probably from crying. “I think I’m going to go upstairs and lie down for a little while,” I tell her. Grabbing my phone, I notice I have a text message from Hayden. I swallow hard, knowing I need to read it when I’m alone.
She gives me nod and follows me into the living room.
“I wanna wait for Dad to come before I leave,” I tell her, heading toward the stairs.
“Alright, sweetheart. I’ll wake up you up when he gets here.” She grabs a book off the side table and sits in her reading chair.
I go up to my old room that’s been transformed into a guest room. I sit on the edge of the bed and open the text message Hayden sent, but the end is what destroys me.
…I’ve endured worse pain than that before from you.
I’m so mad at myself for agreeing to see him again, but I thought things would be different. He doesn’t know the truth from ten years ago, and he doesn’t know why I had to ditch him today.
I lie back on the bed and reminisce about being a teenager. I lived without a fucking worry in the world. Life was easy. Love was easy. Being an adult isn’t all that it’s cut out to be.
As I stare at the ceiling, I remember my old yearbooks and photo albums are stuffed in a box in the top of the closet. I grab it from the shelf and set it down. Taking my time, I gently pull out the pictures and look at them. I laugh at photos of me and Donny in the school’s production of The Wizard of Oz. I played Dorothy, and he was the cutest Toto in the world. Toward the end of the photo album are pictures of Hayden and me after the production of Little Shop of Horrors I did my senior year. He’s looking at me like I’m his everything, the same way he looked at me this morning. I get emotional as I travel down memory lane, but I force myself to continue anyway. The what-ifs and might-have-beens rip through me along with the regret of what I did to him.
My phone vibrates, and I look down and see it’s another text from Hayden. Though I’d rather not know what he has to say, I unlock my phone and read the message.
Hayden: We need to talk.
I throw my phone toward the end of the bed, not sure what I’d say. Talking to him is out the question, and I don’t think I could even look him in the eyes knowing what I now know. Maybe Veronica being pregnant with his baby is fate’s way of telling me it’s time to finally move on.
I pick up my phone and decide to block his number once and for all, in case he tries to contact me again. It’s better this way—or at least, that’s what I’m telling myself.
Chapter Eight
Hayden
I sit in Veronica’s driveway and try to think about what I’m going to say when I see her. I check my phone to see if Savannah texted me back, but when I open it, all I see is a message from Veronica saying the front door is unlocked and to let myself in. Fuck. She has the wrong idea completely.
I walk to her door and push open the door. Sunshine splashes in through the large windows, and I look around the room, not seeing her anywhere.
“Hello?” I say.
“I’m in here.” Her voice echoes down the hallway, and I walk toward it.
I step inside her room, and my brows raise at the scene in front of me.
“Hey baby,” she purrs.
Crossing my arms over my chest, I stare at her desperate attempt to seduce me.
Veronica pushes up on her elbows and smiles. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
My feet stay planted on the floor, not impressed by her tactics. “Okay. Well I’m here. What do you want?”
She pushes her bra strap over her shoulder. “Come closer…”
“No, Veronica. That’s not gonna happen. In fact, I’m not sure what you think is happening between us, but it’s not this.” I run my fingers through my hair, and she studies my stance. Once she realizes I’m not interested and that she’s being rejected, her mood turns sour.
“What the hell does that mean?” she snaps, pulling up her bra strap.
“I’m sorry, but I think there’s been a misunderstanding here,” I tell her truthfully. She looks defeated. “I think you’re a pretty woman, but I’m not attracted to you like that. We’re just friends, and I’m sorry if I led you on or made you think otherwise.” I try to sound as sincere as possible, but the daggers she’s shooting me tells me she doesn’t accept my words.
