34. Hayden
Chapter thirty-four
Hayden
The light beaming through my office window awakens me like an oncoming freight train—it’s fast, impending, and unavoidable.
Also, as soon as I open my eyes, I hear a loud buzzing in my ears that I know is coming from inside my own head.
“Oh, God.” Speaking of a locomotive, I feel like I’ve been run over by one. Every inch of my body aches. “What the—” I hang my head in my hands before looking over and seeing the source of my pain. The completely empty whiskey bottle.
Suddenly, my phone rings.
I’m already getting tiny flashbacks of what happened last night between Addie and me. But I am simultaneously terrified and hopeful that it’s her on the other line. But when I reach for it and flip it over, it’s “Randall” that I see across the screen. Honestly, I’m amazed I could make out his name through my bleary eyes.
Dammit. I know I need to suck up to the man, but that doesn’t change the fact that he’s a royal pain in my butt.
“Hello?” I answer as clearly as possible after choking down some vomit.
“Hayden! Good morning!” he responds, as cheery as ever.
His voice is so chipper and loud, in fact, that I have to hold it away from my face in order to prevent my brain from exploding.
“Good morning.”
“I’d like to meet at the lot. Say, in an hour?”
Fuck. I raise a hand to my forehead, knowing fully well that sixty minutes isn’t enough time to get myself right again. However, I managed to get out an affirmative, “Sounds great,” before hanging up.
Once that’s over, I close one eye and squint with the other while pulling up Addie’s contact information.
I can’t remember everything I said to her, but I can still see her face as clear as day when I was yelling. It was the same one I’d seen all those years ago when I accused her of basically killing my father.
“I’m sorry. The person you’ve reached at 602-555-0119 cannot come to the phone right now. But please leave your name and phone number—”
It only took one ring before her voicemail message started to play. Not that I can blame her, I’d probably screen and ignore my calls too.
But that isn’t going to stop me. Oh, no. Whatever I said, I know it will take a lot to get her forgiveness for it. And I’m willing to put in the work. I have to. It isn’t just about her anymore. If I don’t have Addie in my life, I also don’t have Luna. In my mind, they’re like peanut butter and jelly. One just simply doesn’t make sense without the other.
So, I shoot her a quick text, which is something I know she can’t as easily ignore.
“I’m so sorry for everything, Addie. I’m hoping you’ll give me the opportunity to explain. Please.”
Despite the fact that my reaction was clearly taken out on her, she wasn’t to blame for my actions. That, at least, I remember was spawned from my dear older brother.
“Ugh!” I groan, remembering that’s a whole other can of worms that I have to deal with. But for now, I put my phone aside, and crawl into the shower.
The warm water offers a temporary respite from the cold, harrowing world I’ve once again found myself living in.
After it’s all said and done, I manage to only double over and dry heave once or twice before my body and hair are clean.
Climbing out, I towel dry myself before wrapping the cozy fabric around my waist and tucking in the corner above my pelvis.
The mirror is fogged from steam, and once I swipe at it with my hand, I can see myself clearly. For a moment, I just stare at the shell of the human being that I am.
What the hell have you done?
Little by little, more recollections have come to mind. I now remember that after an amazing, passion-filled day with her, I screamed at her to leave me alone. Again.
God. Her wide blue eyes are haunting me, and I can see them whether I keep my eyes open or close them.
Instead of using a comb, I just run my fingers through my hair before escaping my own reflection, going out into my office, trying to call her again. Yet, as to be expected, she dodges me again.
Except this time, I do leave a message. “Addie, I’m so—so sorry.” I know that word is short and often overused, but I mean it so deeply in my bones. “Please just let me explain myself. Please. If you want nothing to do with me after that, then that’s fine.” Of course, I don’t mean that. “Just please.”
I hit “end,” and I squeeze the device in my hand so tightly that I can hear it starting to crack a little.
Please. I beg her and the universe at the same time. I don’t care how desperate I sound—I just want to talk to her.
After that, I pop a few painkillers, despite knowing fully well the only thing that will temper my busy mind is the tranquil sound of her voice.
When I look down at my watch a little later, I see that I have about thirty minutes to get to the property. So, I abandon the towel, saunter naked through my house, and slide across the wooden floor before my closet. I’m not sure what Randall is going to tell me, but either way—be it a “yes” or “no” to mine and Salvador’s dream of opening Ivory Shores—I need to look my best.
I decide to go for a dark gray suit with a white undershirt and navy tie. All colors scream “confidence” to me while also mirroring the icy feeling that I’m currently experiencing in my heart.
Perfect, I think, while putting the final touches on the look.
Before leaving, I have to lean against the stove and stave off one more bout of nausea, but then I straighten myself up and tighten my cuff links.
***
On the way over to the lot, I send about a dozen more texts to Addie—each one going “unread.”
Fuck. I hoped she’d at least accidentally read one of them by now. But I’m still determined now to give up hope. I have to be.
So, I call someone else.
“Miss Dunn?” She’s Salvador’s old assistant.
“Hayden?”
“Yes.” I can hear through the scratchiness in her voice that she just got out of bed.
“I’ve told you a million times, just call me Penny. Um, what can I do for you?”
I smile for the first time that day. “I’m so happy you asked. It’s going to be quite the mammoth of a task, I’m afraid—”
She blows raspberries into the air. “Oh, please. Sal once made me spend over seventy-two hours looking for Criollo. Do you know what that is, young man?”
“Um . . .” Perhaps in my completely alert and sound state of mind, I could’ve remembered. But not now.
“It’s the rarest form of chocolate in the entire world.”
“Ah.” That’s right. I knew it sounded familiar.
“It’s so rare, in fact, that it only makes up about .01 percent of the global cacao production. And do you know how I know that?”
She’s always been a spitfire, and I love her for it. “Let me guess. Because you had to research and find it?”
“Exactly! One day, Sal made it up in his mind that he was going to befriend this Mexican diplomat, or whatever. So, after finding out that it was his favorite little treat, I was sent on my mission.”
“And were you able to find any?”
She’s quiet for a moment, and I can practically hear the mischievous smile on the other end of the line when she finally says, “Why of course, darling. Sal wanted one pound, and I had five delivered to his office the very next day.”
That’s why you’re the best.
“Well, my ‘ask’ won’t be as detailed as all of that. At least, I don’t think so.”
“Go on,” she encourages.
“I messed up.”
“Oh, okay. So, this is a matter of the heart and not one of business, eh?”
I sigh. “A little bit of both, I’m afraid.”
Without missing a beat, she says, “It’s Addie, isn’t it?”
My mouth hangs open.
“I may be old, young man, but I’m far from stupid. You forget, I was Sal’s right-hand woman for decades. And I saw how the two of you used to drool over each other. Now, out with it. What can I do to help?”
The old me would’ve gone on and on and insisted she was wrong about me and Addie, but I quite frankly just don’t have the energy.
“Could you please have flowers delivered to her house every hour, on the hour, until I can get her to answer the phone?”
“Oh, boy. You must’ve screwed up big time.”
“You have no idea.”
She’s quiet again before saying, “Okay. I’ll do it. But only if you promise me that you didn’t cheat on her. I cannot act like a fool on behalf of adultery.”
“Absolutely not.”
“And you didn’t hurt or strike her or anything like that?”
“Oh, God! No!” I know raising my voice wasn’t the best look, but I could never in a million years stomach physically hurting her.
“Good. Then, I’ll do it. Does she still like tulips?”
“Um—” I feel like an asshole for not knowing her favorite.
“I’ll bet she does. Never mind. I will take care of everything.”
“Thank you so much.”
That conversation helped me feel about fifty pounds lighter, but then I rounded the corner and saw Randall standing all stoic on the property.
Immediately, the weight came piling back on. And I swear, my shoulders actually hurt as I got out of the vehicle, closed the door, and buttoned my jacket back up.
“Hayden, good morning.” He takes his hand out of his pocket and shakes my jittery one.
“Morning.” I clear my throat and then hold my breath as I wait for whatever is about to come out of his mouth next.
“I made a decision,” he announces.
I almost choke on the spit sliding down my throat. “Um, wow. Okay? Uh . . .”
“But then Addie changed my mind.”
Oh. My eyes are darting, and my heart is racing.
“She told me all about the man you are, Hayden Cohen. She told me about the scared yet courageous little boy you were, and the person you are today who has really stepped up and been there for her and Luna.”
It isn’t my back that feels like it’s collapsing under a two-ton boulder. It’s my heart. I’m not worthy of any of that praise. Not even close.
My mind is now swirling, and nothing looks better than the patch of smooth, dark dirt before my feet. I would love to curl up and assume the fetal position in it.
Randall continues talking, but I can’t make out his words. Besides, they don’t matter.
Eventually, we shake hands. For what? I can’t be sure.
But after saying my goodbyes to him, I climb into my compact car and peel off. I feel foolish for ever coming here in the first place when the future of my family—my life —hangs in the balance like this.