Chapter 44
HAILEY
The silence he left behind was deafening.
I stood in the empty parking lot, watching Lively's tail lights disappear into the darkness, the echo of his engine fading until all I could hear was my own ragged breathing and the distant hum of hospital machinery.
Each inhale seemed to scrape against my ribs, painful and raw, like trying to breathe through broken glass.
My fingers trembled as I reached up to push a stray strand of hair from my face, the silky fabric of my dress suddenly feeling like sandpaper against my skin.
The night air had taken on a bitter chill that seeped through to my bones, though I couldn't tell if it was from the actual temperature or the cold emptiness spreading through my chest like frost creeping across a window.
He was right. Every accusation he'd hurled at me rang with a truth I'd been desperately avoiding for years, each word a perfectly aimed shot that had found its target with devastating accuracy.
And that made me angrier than anything else—not at him, but at myself.
Because I'd spent so many years constructing this fortress of independence, this carefully maintained distance from anyone who might see beneath my surface, that I'd convinced myself it was strength.
That it was necessary. That it was the only way to protect myself from being hurt, from being vulnerable, from needing anyone.
When all it had done was make me hollow, carved out like a rotting tree that looks solid from the outside but is empty within.
"Hailey?"
I turned to find Gina and Dylan approaching, their formal wear looking incongruous against the stark concrete of the hospital parking lot.
Gina's emerald dress caught the harsh overhead lights, making her look almost otherworldly, while Dylan's perfectly tailored suit seemed to absorb the shadows.
The look they exchanged as they took in my face—whatever they saw there—made something twist painfully in my gut.
There was an awkward silence, the three of us standing in a loose triangle beneath the harsh fluorescent lights, before Gina cleared her throat and said, "Did he leave?" Her voice was carefully neutral, but I could hear the edge of concern beneath it.
I could only nod, the words lodged somewhere in my throat like shards of glass, too sharp to push past my lips.
"I mean, why did you even do that back there?" Gina sighed, the sound carrying in the quiet night.
My shoulders tensed, defense mechanisms kicking in automatically, my spine stiffening like it always did when I felt cornered.
"What do you mean, why did I do that? I couldn't just listen to them talk down to him like that!
What kind of asshole parents would even do that?
" The anger returned, a welcome distraction from the yawning emptiness spreading through my chest. I cut a glare at Dylan, sharp enough to draw blood.
"Hey, you knew about this, too, didn't you? "
Dylan immediately raised his hands, palms out, like he was trying to placate a wild animal. "I mean, I had an idea, but we don't really talk about his family. We just know his parents are rich, and they're real strict."
I scoffed, my icy control in shambles as I spat, "Strict? Yeah, right, more like ASSHOLES." The word echoed off the concrete pillars, hanging in the air between us like a living thing.
Gina tilted her head, her expression maddeningly neutral as she studied me with those perceptive eyes that always seemed to see too much. "Yeah, but why are you so worked up about it?"
"What?" I felt my face flush hot, heat spreading from my chest up my neck to my cheeks. "I-I'm not 'worked up,' I'm just... affronted on his behalf." The excuse sounded weak even to my own ears, a paper shield against the truth that was battering at my defenses.
"Yeah, but why?" Her pointed question thudded right in my throat, immediately bleeding me out.
"Because I'm a fucking decent person? Who wouldn't get mad at something like that?" My voice rose, betraying the emotions I was desperately trying to contain, each word laced with a defensiveness that felt brittle, ready to crack.
Dylan chimed in with, "Hm, yeah, but then, you're way too pissed, you know? Far more than a 'decent human being' would get in this situation." His tone was mild, but his eyes…I didn't like the way they looked at me, with that knowing glint.
Ah, crap. What the hell?
I clenched my fists, nails biting into my palms, the sharp pain a welcome distraction from the emotional turmoil. "Are you saying I don't even have the right to be pissed on his behalf?" I scoffed.
But I already knew the answer to that, Lively's words echoing in my head like a taunt: “Why should you care? It's not any of your business!”
I huffed out an empty laugh. “I mean, you're not wrong, either. I…I did tell him to stay away from me so... I really don't have any right to meddle in his business now that he's doing exactly what I asked him to do.”
“Is that what he told you?” Gina asked, her eyebrow arched high on her forehead, her tone carrying a hint of exasperation.
I pressed my lips together, my cheeks pinking, the warmth spreading to the tips of my ears. “He's not wrong though.”
Gina hissed. “And he's the one who's been meddling in your business.” She grumbled.
I frowned at those words, not understanding what she meant, my eyes narrowing when I caught both Gina and Dylan exchanging eye rolls.
“What... What are you talking about?” I asked, suspicion creeping in like frost along the edges of a window pane.
Gina sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. “So, you know those treats we've been getting you?”
I blinked, remembering their sudden shower of care over the past weeks—the protein bars appearing in my locker, the sports drinks waiting after brutal practices, the chocolate bars that my teammates had been casually handing over to me like it was nothing.
“Yeah,” I said slowly, my brain already whirring up with probabilities.
“Sorry, but they weren't from us,” Gina continued, each word falling like a stone into still water, creating ripples of realization that spread through me. “They were all from him.”
I blinked. “What?”
Dylan winced, but Gina just repeated it, each word a nail in the coffin of my carefully constructed denial.
“He's been making us feed you because you were working too hard.
He even had us take pictures of you eating them as evidence.
And it's not like I wanted to do that, you know,” now she was talking fast, as if trying to get the words out before I snapped or something, “but you know how annoying he can be when he wants to, so I had no choice, yeah?”
But I couldn't even summon a smidge of affront at that revelation. My heart pounded against my ribs like it was trying to escape, each beat a violent protest against the cage of my chest. There was only one thing echoing in my head:
“Why would he...?” The question trailed off even though, deep down, I guess already kinda knew the answer—
Gina’s arched brow was a testament to that fact when she said, “Like you don't know.”
Those words were like a lightning flash, illuminating all the shadowy thoughts I'd been running from, revealing the names of every single emotion I'd ever felt in Lively's presence, and even the reason behind everything and it was—
“Hailey?” My parents' voices cut through the conversation, and the three of us turned to find David, Karen approaching, with David pushing Mallory's chair along in front of them.
They all had matching expressions of worry on their faces and, just like that, Lively's earlier words rushed to the forefront of my mind:
“You don't have the right to lecture me about my family when you've spent years keeping your own at arm's length. The Hartleys love you, want to know you, and you treat them like they're strangers.”
The weight of that truth pressed down on me now like a physical burden, crushing and consuming in its intensity.
For years, I'd been so determined to be self-sufficient, to not be a burden, that I'd pushed away the very people who wanted to support me.
Who loved me despite my best efforts to keep them at a distance.
“Where's Lively?” Mallory's question was innocent, but there was an edge of dread in her tone, like she already knew the answer to that question but she didn't want to accept it yet.
“Um, so…” The three of us exchanged glances, unsure of how to say it—
“He left, didn't he?” Now, these words were flat. “He promised to dance with me later.”
Dylan quickly dropped into a squat, an indulgent smile slashed across his face. “Something came up, so he had to rush back to, uh, school. Don't worry, I’ll yell at him for you.”
Mallory harrumphed, folding her arms. “Are you guys leaving too?”
“Oh.” Dylan froze under her narrow eyed glare. “I mean, yeah. We'll have to, uh, go soon. Since it's…it's a team emergency.”
Yeah, right.
It was Gina who squatted down next, patting her on the hand as she said, “Don't worry. We'll come visit you again soon—”
“No need,” Mallory said and they both snapped their mouths shut at the absoluteness of her tone. “I got discharged today!”
My eyes flew wide as my head snapped up to look at her. She was grinning from ear to ear.
“What? What do you…?”
David and Karen cleared their throats, looking like they'd just been caught with their hands in the cookie jar.
“So,” David started, “we were going to tell you tonight, you know, as a surprise but…”
But I'd gone and ruined everything with that scene I'd made in there.
Crap. My cheeks flamed. “Oh.” Was the only thing I could say. I mean, what else could I say to that?
“Um, so, we have to go now,” Gina cleared her throat before tapping Mallory on the nose and rising back to her full height. “We have to handle that, uh, that thing, you know?”
“Yeah, yeah,” Dylan was just as awkward, adjusting his tie in a transparent attempt to look casual. “The thing! With the coaches!”