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“Because what good would it have done? Look at you. You’re a mess over it. If I had told you, you would’ve been the same way you are now, but you would’ve been alone.”
I could argue it further, but what’s the point? It’s not like it will make what I did any better. There’s nothing that will make that better.
Not a damn thing.
WHEN HAYES GETS BACK, he sprays over the graffiti with colors as close as he could find. His truck and Cam’s Jeep both end up looking pretty okay—black is easier to cover. But mine and Mali’s cars? Not so much.
“I’ll talk to Aiden tomorrow and see if his dad can sand it down and paint it,” he tells Mali.
“That’d be great. Thanks, H.”
Quite frankly, the last thing I’m worried about right now is my car. My current priorities all focus around Hayes, and how I can possibly make up for what I did.
“Lai, you ready to go?” Cam asks.
He wants to me to sleep at his place tonight, and he insists that we follow Mali home to make sure she gets there safely. But I’m not ready to go. Not yet.
I’m sitting on the porch steps when Hayes walks past me to go inside. I consider saying nothing, but I can’t leave things like this.
“Hayes,” I say as I stand up and spin around. “I—”
But he interrupts me before I can get another word out. “Don’t. Please.”
It feels like someone has my heart in a vise grip and is just squeezing it until it bursts. Between the defeated look in his eyes and the hurt in his voice, I’m broken inside.
Just like he is.
And it’s all because of me.
“It’s just, this night has been stressful enough,” he explains. “I just can’t handle this right now, too.”
A tear slips out and I quickly wipe it away, trying to be strong. “Okay.”
Standing there, I watch as he goes inside the house we used to live in together and swings the door shut behind him. My bottom lip quivers, and no matter how much I try to keep it in, I can’t. I’m feeling every last ounce of pain I put him through, and I know it’s going to eat me alive.
I’m going to lose the best thing that’s ever happened to me, forever.
HAYES AND CAM DECIDEto keep the bar closed for another day while they make sure everything is as clean as it can be and change the locks. As much as it kills me, I decided not to work from there today—giving Hayes some space.
Cam was against it at first, but I told him it wasn’t up to him. That’s when he changed course and asked me to at least stay somewhere safe or somewhere public. So, I work half the day at Starbucks, and the other half at my parents’ house once they get home.
By the time it reaches the end of the day, I’m exhausted. Everything feels like it’s catching up to me and the only thing I want to do right now is shower and change into something comfortable. Cam told me not to go back to my motel alone. He doesn’t trust it. But I need something to make me feel less like a dumpster fire.
As I drive to the motel, the only thing I can think of is Hayes. I need to talk to him. To wholeheartedly apologize and tell him that if he can’t get past that and he doesn’t want to make us work, I understand. No hard feelings.
But I really hope he doesn’t choose that.
There’s no way to explain how much he means to me. Trust me, I’ve tried for years to put it in a song. Those kinds of feelings, with that much intensity—it would be guaranteed to go platinum. But all the words in the dictionary don’t even come close.
I love himdoesn’t feel like enough.
I need himisn’t right either.
All the sonnets and poems in the world pale in comparison to the way he makes me feel.
As I park my car and get out, I decide to try calling him. Holding the phone to my ear, I listen to it ring as I walk toward my room.
Hey, it’s Hayes. Leave a message, or just fucking text me like a normal person.
