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“Yeah, I realize I was kinda an ice queen after Mama’s death, but I am coming back.” I realize now that while it in no way excused Wesley’s cheating, I hadn’t been any more emotionally available than my father in those months after Mama’s death.
“Good. It’s been good to see you smile again, Hannah, even if it was on the TV.” He laughs as he points out my smiling face on the television in the corner. Sandra likes to run the vlog and interview stories non-stop. For obvious reasons, I’ve avoided looking at the TV until this point.
“Thanks.” A fresh wave of pain hits me when I see Will’s face on the TV.
“So, what’s going on with Mr. New York?” Wesley waggles his eyebrows at me, and I try to put on a brave face.
“Nothing.” Will got what he wanted in one way. The summer was over and so were we. No talking, no texts, no nothing. Not even a text for my birthday. I’m twenty-one, whoop-de-do.
“Come on, Hannah. I saw the morning show, I saw the way you smiled at him, and I read the stuff he wrote about you.” He raises up an article Will had written for the local newspaper about the trip.
“It was just smiles and pretty words, Wesley. I don’t really feel like hashing it out now.” I mumble as I blink away the tears.
“So, he is an idiot like me?” Wesley sighs and he grabs my hand and gives it a squeeze. I never thought I would be receiving comfort from my ex-boyfriend over my most recent heartbreak and I honestly wish I could be anywhere but here, about to burst into tears while talking to my ex in a diner booth.
“Something like that.” I mutter, wishing I could go home and stop being reminded that I wasn’t enough. I’m barely back to remembering that I like who I am, and it feels like the world wants to shove the fact that Will didn’t in my face constantly.
Right then, the door to the diner chimes as it opens and my heart drops. He is here. Him and his stupid city slicker slim fit jeans and perfectly messy hair. Him and his tan that doesn’t end where his shirt sleeves start. Him and the way he can sum me up in a single word.
His eyes meet mine and I close my eyes and wish I could disappear. I don’t have the energy to decipher the look on his face or to come up with some witty hello that will make him regret leaving me waiting in the airport. I don’t have it in me to be someone he wants.
“Hannah.” It’s Wesley speaking, and he is looking between me and the door with a concerned look on his face. He wants me to come out and talk to him. I just shake my head and bury it in my hands.
Two stylish sneakers arrive at the end of our table, and I know I need to look up, but I can’t. I can’t look at him and see rejection and I can’t look at him and see love. I can’t do any of it.
“Hannah, please look at me.” I don’t know if it is because he sounds so broken or because I can’t deny him anything, but I do, and I see those breathtaking green eyes and they rip apart any shred of healing I had found in the last couple weeks.
“What do you want, Will?” My voice sounds so hollow I hardly recognize it.
“You.” He just stares at me, acting like that was a perfectly acceptable answer. I wonder if I’m a joke to him.
“The time for that was two weeks ago, Will.” I hope he hears the dismissal. I want him to leave so he can stop hurting me by being all that I want.
“I know, Hannah, but will you please hear me out?” I feel like I’m back on that rooftop in New York City, my whole world crashing around me.
“I’m at work, Will.” I’m trying to keep it together. I just need him to leave.
“Wasn’t stopping you talking to this piece of trash.” Will gestures to Wesley and I know he knows exactly who Wesley is.
“The names Wesley actually.” Wesley interrupts, rolling his eyes.
“Exactly.” Will gives Wesley a dangerous smile and Wesley looks ready to punch him.
“Fine, outside now.” I storm out the front door. We’ve already made a scene, so I don’t care about being discrete. I walk to the side of the diner that borders the city park before I stop. I don’t say anything. I’m not sure I could if I wanted to.
“You never told me you transferred to Columbia.” Will says to my back. He sounds hurt and I hate him for that. I’m the one that is hurt. I’m the one that loves him, while he can’t even bother to care enough to text me to wish me a happy birthday.
“It shouldn’t have made a difference! I asked you to show up at the airport if you cared. I didn’t ask you to do long distance or to commit to a relationship with me. I asked you to show that cared for me and you couldn’t do it. You never could. You have always been pretty words and missing actions, Will. How could my being in New York change that?” I’m crying again. Why does he keep doing this to me? Wasn’t one break up enough for him?
“How could it not make a difference? What was the point in showing up at that airport and telling you that I’m in love with you if we never got to be together? What was the point in doing that when in the end you’d end up back with Wesley or some other guy and you’d live the perfect life you were meant to have before I came along and messed it all up.” Will unleashes the pain he had held back in our previous argument. It is raw, ugly, and heartbreaking. It doesn’t make me any happier. If anything, I wish I could go back to believing he didn’t care at all just so I didn’t have to know that he had cared and still hadn’t chosen me.
“Then why are you here Will?” I’m emotionally worn out to yell anymore at him, so the question comes out barely louder than a whisper.
“Because I realized that I would never be happy in New York City because, despite being full of all different types of people, not a single one of them was you. I’d rather live in this po-dunk town and get to see you flip me off as you drive to work each day than live in my apartment in the city where the only time I get to see you is when I relive the moment you left again and again and wish I would have stopped you. I’m here because this is where you are, Hannah, and I can’t find another you, not in New York City, not anywhere.” His words crush me. I had thought myself obliterated before, but nothing could compare to having the person you love tell you exactly what you want to hear, but knowing you can’t believe them.
“Pretty words Will.” I wipe the tears away from my eyes and start to back away, trying to distance myself from the hurt, but he follows me.
“I’m here Hannah. It’s more than words.” He grabs my hand, but I pull it away.
