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“You want to hurt me?” I keep my eyes narrowed on him. “Then tell me everything. Tell me how you felt when you realized I was gone.”
He laughs dryly. “Get the fuck out of here.”
“No,” I bark. “Tell me how I broke you. How I ruined you. Now’s your chance. Let it all out.”
“Fine,” he sneers. “You want to know? For a while I thought you were dead! And in some sick and twisted way, I hoped you were, because at least that meant you weren’t out there somewhere, living your life as if we never fucking mattered. But that phone call confirmed it. You were out there somewhere. You really had left us behind in your rearview mirror. And that made me want to fucking die! I genuinely considered it at one point because while you may have been able to live without me, there was no part of me that was interested in a life without you.”
I choke on my tears, sobbing as his words rip me to shreds, exactly the way I asked for. “But I wasn’t okay. We mattered, Hayes. We’ve always fucking mattered!”
“You left! You walked out!” he roars, turning to walk away and then turning back. “What the fuck was the point of marrying me if you were only going to leave?”
“I didn’t want to leave!”
“Bullshit! And the worst part is that I would’ve understood. I’m a fucking handful, and I knew from the start that you were too damn good for me. But I tried to be the best I could be for you. You could’ve just told me you realized you didn’t want to be with me. Yeah, it would’ve hurt, but it would’ve been better than this shit!”
“No,” I sob. “You’re not hearing me! It wasn’t my choice to leave! You have no idea how bad I wanted to turn around and run back into your arms! It took months before I could even so much as breathe without feeling like I was dying inside! So, you’re wrong! I wasn’t living my life as if we never mattered because you have always fucking mattered to me! You mattered to me before you ever considered me as something other than a child!”
His chest rises and falls with his heavy breathing, and I know I look ridiculous. My face is soaked, and I can barely see through the tears. But just when I think I may have finally gotten through to him, he shakes his head.
“You have a shitty way of showing it.”
He starts to walk toward the back again, and my chest cracks wide open as I collapse to the ground. This is it—the only chance I have left at saving us.
“Someone knows,” I say quietly.
His head whips around. “What the fuck do you mean someone knows?”
My breathing stutters. “Someone knows about what happened that night. The person who sent me the recording of you threatening Monty left an envelope in my car. They have proof, and they said they were going to the police if I didn’t leave town.”
Hayes pinches the bridge of his nose. “So let me get this straight. Someone out there knows about one of the worst nights of our lives, and you just decided to keep that to yourself?”
“I wasn’t allowed to tell you,” I cry.
He looks at me in disbelief. “Laiken, that night wasn’t just fucking about me! That shit puts all of our lives in jeopardy!”
“But they weren’t threatening everyone else!” I argue. “They were dead set onyou. On making you pay for what happened. And I couldn’t let that happen. I was trying to save you!”
His shoulders sag in defeat. “That’s the thing though, Lai. You were trying to save me, but the life you left me with—the one without you—that was the only thing I needed saving from.”
He turns his back to me and takes a couple steps before stopping.
“Please. Just go.”
IT TAKES TWENTY MINUTESto pick myself up off the bar floor, and another half hour to get back to my motel room. The tears kept making it hard to see the road in front of me. I considered going to Mali, but clearly, I’m only causing Hayes more pain by being here. And if there’s anything I don’t want, it’s that.
The pain in my chest is unrelenting. It feels like the final nail in the coffin of the life I had. The one that I’ve always wanted. The one that made me happier than I’ve ever been. I know I’m never going to get over him. He’s the only man I’ve ever loved, and I know it will always be that way. But loving someone means wanting what’s best for them, and that’s not me anymore.
Not for him.
I unlock the door and push it open, reaching over to turn on the light. The second it flicks on, my heart drops into my stomach. There, sitting in the middle of my bed, is another envelope—my name in a familiar handwriting scrawled across it.
They know.
My steps are tentative as I walk toward it, barely breathing at all. When I take it into my hands and pull the note out, my whole body goes cold.
You were warned.
What happens next is on you.
