Chapter 24
Hayleigh
It’s been a week since I messaged Thea about girls' day, and two days since I messaged her my address. She read that message but hasn’t responded, and now I’m worried she won’t show.
With Lacey heavily pregnant and me quitting my job, we decided that a day of relaxation in my new home, with some good food and pampering, was the best option rather than going out. I’m nervous about them seeing my home. Will they like it? Will they think I’m being stupid doing it up while living here? What about when they find out I’ve quit my job?
Nerves churn in my gut when there’s a knock at the door. One person is standing behind the frosted, stained glass window, and my brow furrows as to who it could be. When I open the door, my stomach drops, and my heart frantically claws at my insides.
Sylvia Winters, Pete’s mother, stands on the other side of my front door. My new home, my home away from the Winters family and everything they did and somehow she knows where I live.
She stares at me with those cold and calculating eyes of hers. “It’s rude to keep a lady on the doorstep, Hayleigh.”
The Hayleigh from a few months ago would have cowered and stood to attention, but not the Hayleigh today. My heart might be racing, but I stand up a little straighter and stare right through her. “I don’t see a lady on my doorstep, Sylvia, I see a viper, and you’re not welcome here. Please leave.”
Her face turns an ugly shade of red, her mouth twists, and she grips the handbag on her shoulder a little tighter. “Youneverdeserved my boy. You drove him to do what he did. You’re worthless, and you’ll never amount toanything.”
I bite the inside of my cheek, a trick I used as a child to stop myself from crying; it does nothing to show emotion to these types of women. I don’t bother giving her an answer; I stand firm at my door.
She huffs, practically sticking her nose in the air. “You’re a rude, selfish little bitch. I’ll be sure to ruin your family, better still, I’ll make sure that snivelling younger sister of yours–”
She’s cut off when May Peterson rounds the corner with fury in her eyes. She storms down my garden path, right up to Sylvia. “I suggest you leave. This is private property, and you’re not welcome here.”
Sylvia opens her mouth to respond, but May crosses her arms and narrows her eyes. Sylvia cuts her gaze to me before stormingback off, and I let out a huff of breath as my heart hammers in my chest.
May throws her a dirty look, and once she’s gone, she turns to me, uncrossing her arms, and she smiles. “Can I come in?”
I step back and open the door. “Of course.” Nerves flutter deep in my stomach because maybe May is here to warn me off, Nate. Perhaps she doesn’t think I deserve him, and I’m no good.
Maybe she’s right.My breakfast threatens to make an appearance, and my hands tighten on the door frame to steady myself.
I walk into the living room and don’t know what to do with myself. Like an idiot, I jerk my thumb towards the kitchen. “I’ll make us some tea.” Then, like the coward I am, I scurry off and hide away, making tea, wishing all the while for the girls to get here and distract me.
I wind myself up more and more as I think of what May could want with me. I pat myself down. I don’t have my phone with me, so I can’t even ask Nate if he knows.
“Hayleigh, sweetheart, there will be nothing left of that tea if you don’t stop stirring.”
I whirl around at the sound of May’s voice. She stands there, smiling kindly at me, and all of a sudden, everything gets a bit too much, and I burst into tears. May rushes forward, enveloping me in her arms.
She gently strokes the back of my hair. “Shh, it’s okay, you’re safe. Let it all out. I’m here, and I’ve got you.” She guides me to the living room and onto the couch, tea forgotten. She lets me cry until my tears dry up.
It feels so foreign to me to be embraced by a motherly figure, to have her tell me that it’s okay. I’ve been so used to hiding my real emotions for so long that I don’t know how I’m supposed to act. As a kid, my mother would tell me to stop crying, not to show emotion because emotion is weakness, and people thrive offthat. If I got upset in front of Pete and we were alone, he would look at me in disgust, as if I had personally offended him with my tears. He was always so good at playing the right character for the right situation that I couldn’t distinguish what an act was or what was reality.
May cups my cheek as I realise I’ve been daydreaming again. I offer her a grateful smile. “Sorry, May. I zoned out then. I’m so sorry for crying.”
She clucks her tongue. “I’ll have none of that, thank you very much. Don’t ever apologise for your feelings, Hayleigh. They’re completely valid, and you feel what you feel.”
I offer her a slight nod. “That was Pete’s mother.”
She purses her lips. “Oh, believe me, I know who that wretched woman is. I’ll call Clive, our lawyer, later on; she won’t be bothering you again.” May pats my knee and stands, picking up her discarded coat from the sofa.
I stand with her and gently grab hold of her hand, stopping her. “Wait, May. What do you mean? Who’s Clive? I don’t want to cause your family any more trouble than I already have.”
May stops in her tracks, her shoulders dropping, eyes full of kindness and what seems like sadness. She holds both my hands in her own as she says. “Oh, sweetheart. They did such a number on you. No one, and I mean no one, holds you responsible or blames you for anything that horrible man did. You were engaged to someone you were sure loved you.” She searches my eyes before carrying on. “To move forward with our lives, we must learn to accept our past. We can’t change it; we can wish it were different, and maybe we wish certain things hadn’t happened, but they did, and we have to accept that. Your past doesn’t define you, but it sure as hell plays a part in how you grow; it’s up to you on how you do that.”
“You mean, I can either let Pete weigh me down and stay living in the what ifs, or I accept that it happened and make sure it doesn’t again? It’s really that simple?”
May rocks her head from side to side, smiling. “Well, simple isn’t a word I’d use to work through something traumatic, but in a nutshell, yes. Don’t let him win. I just came to see how you were.” She kisses the side of my cheek as her arms wrap around me.
