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This house may have been built with a foundation to withstand the elements outside. It’s too bad for it, though, because the hurricane’s inside.
“He wanted to make sure you were okay,” my mother whispers softly while I stroke my fingers through her hair.
I lie, telling her the same thing I do any time either of them—or anyone asks. “I’m fine.”
She breathes and although it’s the most effort I’ve heard her attempt to make at a chuckle since this all began, it still burns. “Oh, Hailey, my sweet, sweet Hailey. A mother always knows when her daughter’s lying.”
My eyes find hers in awe. “How?”
She pats my arm and for the first time in weeks, I have an inkling of something other than sadness and anger. Her hand warms, soothing me as she says, “You’ll understand one day when you’re a mom.”
I snort and it’s beautifully unladylike. I’m about to graduate high school and then I want to go to college. That’s my focus right now. Kids are one of the furthest things from my mind.
Reaching, she interlocks our fingers together. “I shouldn’t have done that,” she confesses.
My neck cranes forward and the action is as stiff as a limp body that’s been dead for hours. I could pinch myself at the irony because I feel as if I already am.
“I’m sorry, Hailey…for everything.”
My eyes squeeze close. She’s no longer just talking about earlier.
Her plea almost breaks this hardened ball of steel I’ve worked aggressively to protect myself inside of.
“You know, it’s always the kids who suffer the most,” she says with a sniffle sometime later.
Mom squeezes our conjoined hands as we continue to let the ruin of the day wash over us, completely numb to the floor. The only difference is this time, I squeeze back.
Childrendosuffer the most. No child should have to endure this torment.
twenty-eight
Finn
Gently,Iclosethedoor to my son’s room, even though I’m mildly disappointed he’s already asleep. I know Aiden’s bedtime, but a part of me was hoping he’d still be awake.
Sure, I’d seen him earlier today and Hailey’s been pretty fair when it comes to planning out a schedule that works for us both, but what can I say? I miss the little dude.
My visit was impromptu. Hailey’s dad was as surprised as I was when he’d opened the door to leave, and my hand was midair, ready to knock.
He’d let me in right away, but I think it mostly had to do with him running behind. The hello as quick as the goodbye. Him basically giving me free rein, passing me with his eyes glued to his watch.
Not really thinking about it, I reach for another door handle. In the past, I never had to knock when entering this room, so if we’re being honest, it didn’t occur to me to do it this time.
I blame it on old habits. They are the hardest to kill off.
Hailey’s mews of pleasure are rapidly congested, swapped out for higher-pitched ones of aggravation. The lengths of her dark hair were once fanned out around her pillow as she lay there pleasuring herself. Now, they fan her back in her upright frenzy.
Her screams of frustration and embarrassment aren’t what put my muscles into overdrive. It’s the thud of the pillow I narrowly avoid as I slam the door closed.
My heartbeat runs feral, and it has nothing to do with almost being pulverized by the plush object.
Pressing my back into the frame, I choke out a swallow. Blinking, I have no idea what to do or say, but I know for a fact that seeing Hailey sprawled out on her bed with her hand between her thighs was one of the hottest things I’ve ever witnessed in my life.
Fucking hell, that’s what dreams are made of right there.
Those soft whimpers, the arch of her back—Jesus! You’d have to bleach my eye sockets out for me to forget the sight of her lying there.
I fist the frame and I swear I could snap it right in half. It takes every ounce of willpower I have tonotgo back inside her bedroom. The tightness in my pants, not a fan of leaving either.
