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“Fucking hell, I missed you,” he murmurs quietly. “I amsomad at you, but I’ll be even more mad if you leave again without talking to me. So, when you’re done here, come find me.”
Okay, that’s to be expected. “I will.”
It’s a promise I intend to keep, because I missed him, too. So, fucking much that I almost don’t want to let go. But Hayes is in here somewhere, and now that I’ve already come to terms with seeing him again, I need it more than I need the air I breathe.
Cam releases me and I follow the doctor through the doors, feeling both Cam and Mali’s eyes on me through the window all the way until we turn the corner.
“His room is right down there. 12B,” he tells me as he stops at the desk.
I nod. “Thank you.”
My feet carry me down the hallway on autopilot, and my heart wants to run to him while my traumatized brain tells me to flee. Just being back in this town is a risk, and once I see him, I’m not sure I’ll be able to leave again. It was hard enough the first time—when I stood at the doorway to our bedroom and watched him sleep soundly, wanting nothing but to get back in bed next to him where I belong.
As I reach his room, a part of me hopes that’s what I’ll see now. Him sound asleep, peaceful and oblivious to me being here. But as I turn into his room and his gaze locks with mine, my breath hitches.
Pictures have never done him justice, no matter how good the photographer. He looks the same as he did the day I left, only a little older. His hair is an inch or two longer, and the stubble on his face looks good on him. God, it hurts to look at him and know what I was forced to give up.
He’s always been gorgeous—the kind of beautiful even the angels would damn themselves for—and at one point, he was mine.
But not anymore.
Any hope I had of him being happy to see me dies as he huffs out a dry laugh.
“If you came for a divorce, now’s really not a good time,” he spits.
I wince, even though I know I deserve that. “Are you okay?”
“Oh, so all of a sudden you care about my wellbeing? Where the fuck was that shit two years ago?”
He’s angry, and I get it. He doesn’t know about the text messages or the envelope that was left under the driver’s seat of my car. He doesn’t know anything except that I left.
“What are you even doing here, Laiken?” he growls.
I run my fingers through my hair as I sigh. “The hospital called me. I’m still your wife, which makes me your next of kin.”
He hums, grabbing his phone off his lap. “Hey Siri, set a reminder to remove Laiken from anything with an emergency contact.” His phone confirms the reminder is set and he smiles darkly at me. “Don’t worry. They won’t bother you again. You can go back to your new life and forget all about me.”
But that’s the thing, I can’t.
The feeling of knowing he hates me so much isn’t a pleasant one. If I had to guess, I’d say this feels exactly like what I imagine hell feeling like. My heart hasn’t been whole since the day I walked out the front door of the house we shared, but somehow, it’s breaking a little more right now.
If I could forget about him, I wouldn’t have this issue. I wouldn’t wake up in the middle of a dead sleep in tears because I dreamed he was holding me and I never wanted it to end. I wouldn’t replay all the moments we shared together in my mind when I’m feeling particularly self-loathing. I wouldn’t be standing in the middle of a hospital in a town I’m not supposed to be in, desperately needing to know that he’s okay.
But he’s not okay.
He’s broken…and I’m to blame.
Sure, I could tell him everything. About the texts and the threats I’m not allowed to mention. Really break every last rule I was given in just a few short hours and see what happens. But I can’t. My being here is only making things worse, so as much as it hurts, I need to leave. He’s already suffering enough; he looks like he’s in pain every time he breathes.
“I’m sorry,” I say, knowing it’s not nearly enough. “Feel better.”
He says nothing as he rolls his eyes and looks away, and God, I would do anything to go back to the time when he would stare at me like I was the only one who mattered in the world.
I keep my head down as I make my way back to the lobby, trying to keep the tears from coming, but the moment I see Mali still waiting for me, it’s a hopeless feat. She smiles sadly as she sees my bottom lip quiver, and I walk directly into her arms.
“He hates me,” I sob. “He hates me so much he can’t even stand to look at me.”
She sighs heavily and rubs my back. “He doesn’t hate you. I don’t think he’s capable of hating you.”
