30. Kaitlyn
CHAPTER THIRTY
Kaitlyn
NOW
I didn’t have to look very hard to find Hunter. We’ve been tiptoeing around each other for the last few days, but the longer I think about it, the more I know we’re simply avoiding the inevitable.
Everything I’ve tried to paint since finding out the truth goes straight into the trash. Nothing fits together anymore, and I know why.
He’s outside the shed, kneeling over his surfboard as he scrapes off the wax with a comb. Being out on the water is how I clear my head, but cleaning and waxing his board is Hunter’s.
“Hey,” I say, approaching as Hunter looks up at me.
I don’t know if it makes me feel better or worse that he doesn’t look hopeful, and I think it’s because he knows it’s over.
“Hey.”
Hunter sits up, giving me his full attention. I hate feeling guilty for being the one to call the time of death on our relationship.
“Can we talk?” I ask, reaching to untangle the layers of my necklaces.
I didn’t have to work at the gallery today, and everyone else was out of the house.
I saw online that Hunter’s transfer waiver was approved and he’s eligible to play in the upcoming season.
I was relieved because I don’t want him to have blown everything up just to ride the bench for a year.
It’s admirable he’d risk his future for JJ, but it would’ve killed him to sit on the sidelines without being able to contribute.
I’ve spent the last few days asking myself why Bailey would keep what Hunter did a secret, and the thing I keep coming back to is the question he asked me while we were surfing the other day.
Are you happy with him?
And it hit me.
Even back then, Bailey could have come to me and told me exactly what Hunter said to him, and he still didn’t. He was angry at the world, but he didn’t want to hurt me or Hunter.
Bailey put my happiness over his—it’s all he’s ever done.
I can try to ignore it all I want, but my feelings for Bailey have never gone away like I hoped they would. I love Hunter, but he deserves someone who chooses him and his happiness over everything else.
I tried so damn hard to be that person, but at the end of the day, we don’t choose who we love.
“Yeah, give me a sec to clean this up,” he says, gathering his things together.
The rock in the bottom of my stomach settles as he collects the shavings and puts his board back in the shed. If he leaves it out, the deck will get too hot and he won’t be able to apply the layers of fresh wax.
Hunter rubs the back of his neck as he walks out, his emerald eyes immediately finding mine.
The bags under his eyes are darker than I’ve seen them in a while, and I’m tempted to suggest he try the sleeping pills his doctor prescribed last year again, but he hated how they made him feel the next day .
“Should we walk?” he asks, and I nod, looking down at my feet for a moment.
I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know if it’s wishful thinking to hope he’ll still be my best friend after this, but Hunt’s been there for every stage of my life.
Breaking up with him feels like I’m about to cut off a limb.
I understand why he did it, and I don’t regret our relationship.
I loved him, and I still have love for him. I’m just not in love with him.
“How have you been?” I ask, fidgeting with my hands as we walk toward the water. I’m stalling, but we’ve been together for nearly three years. It’s not like I can just rip off the Band-Aid and wash my hands of the relationship.
Even if I could, I wouldn’t want to erase all the happy times I’ve had with Hunter.
“It’s okay, Kaitlyn. We don’t have to do this. If it’s over, I’d rather you just say it,” he says, and I chew my lower lip, turning to face him.
“It’s over,” I confirm, feeling the gap between us grow.
I don’t think our friendship will ever be what it once was, but I want to still be friends.
“I’m sorry, Hunter. I wish this was something I could get past, but I can’t.
I want you to be happy. I’m just going to go grab my things, and I’ll stay at my parents’ house until they get back. ”
Hunter sniffles and looks up at the sky, avoiding my gaze. “I’m sorry too,” he says, his voice thick. I want to hug him, but I also know Hunt well enough to recognize it’s the last thing he wants right now.
I hesitate, wondering if I should just walk away now, but it feels unfinished. “Thank you,” I say, and Hunter shakes his head.
“Don’t thank me. I put my own happiness over my twin’s and yours. I was selfish, and you should hate me.”
“I’m upset and hurt by what you did, even if I get why, but I don’t hate you. We all make mistakes, and what matters most is how we learn from them and move forward. You were a great first boyfriend, and I hope that we can be friends again.”
“I hope so too,” he says after I turn away to walk back to the house, feeling like a part of me will always belong to Hunter.
I went back to my parents’ house this afternoon to hide from the world in the sunroom I’ve converted into my art studio, and I disappeared into my head while I painted for hours.
The sun went down a while ago, but it was like the block in my head finally opened once I stopped trying to force myself into what I thought I was supposed to want.
I couldn’t stop painting, even if I wanted to.
The canvas looked exactly like the sky the other morning when I surfed with Bailey, and I think it’s my brain’s way of trying to tell me to go talk to him. I want to tell him I know what happened with Hunter, but he’s only just admitted he’ll stay.
I don’t want to scare Bailey by making him feel like I have any sort of expectations, because I have none, but I’m tired of only having part of the story.
Still, the last thing I want it to seem like is I’m hopping straight from one twin to the other. It’s more complicated than that, and all I’m trying to do is untangle the web of secrets the three of us have been caught in.
I sit on the ground, staring up at the canvas on my easel painted with streaks of orange and pink on a pale blue sky with rolling waves of turquoise below.
It’s beautiful and reminds me of how every day is a fresh start.
There’s so much in our lives we can’t control, but if there’s anything we can rely on, it’s that the sun will always rise again .
Checking my phone for the first time in hours, I scroll past the funny animal videos Mirabelle sent me, but my heart stops when I see Hunter’s name.
Hunter
Come back to the beach house please. I don’t want you to stay there by yourself.
I’m at my uncle’s for a few days.
I chew my cheek, trying to decide the best way to respond. I left because I wanted to make sure I gave Hunter space to talk to his family about the breakup, and it’s not like this is the first time I’ve stayed home alone before. Sure, my parents are gone for a couple more weeks, but it’s okay.
Kaitlyn
It’s your house. You didn’t have to leave.
Hunter
I know. I’m visiting friends from high school.
Don’t overthink it. It’d make my parents feel better too.
Kaitlyn
Thanks. Have fun with your friends.
Hunter sends back a thumbs up, and I drag my hands over my face. Maybe this is the perfect sign for me to talk to Bailey.
It’s what I have to remind myself of when I walk into the beach house an hour later, wondering if it would be easier to face a room full of spiders than my now ex-boyfriend’s parents.
I guess twenty-one-year-old me is paying the price seventeen-year-old me didn’t think about when she decided to kiss her best friends, especially knowing how close our families are.
Hunter’s truck was missing when I pulled in, but Mirabelle’s Range Rover is here, and so is the Jeep Bailey’s been driving the last few weeks. He and my brother have been trading off nights at the hospital the entire time Javi’s been admitted.
I don’t have a plan, except for getting the truth.
Bailey opens his door a few moments after I knock, and his eyes widen as they drop to the sweatshirt I’m wearing.
I look down at the faded lettering and realize I didn’t change out of his old sweatshirt before coming over.
I kept it from the night he made me wear it home after we kissed, and I only ever let myself pull it out on the days where his absence felt too loud.
I guess I wore it today because I hoped it’d make me feel better.
He blinks, dragging a hand over his jaw before he clears his throat. “Is everything okay?” he asks, his brows furrowing together. I can’t help staring at the scar on his temple, and I wonder how many more scars he bears that aren’t as visible.
I shake my head, tucking my hands into my sleeves. “No. Everything’s not okay.”
“Whatever happened, I’m sure it can be fixed. What happened?” he asks, softening his tone, and I wonder what the possibility is that Hunter didn’t tell anyone we broke up? Or did he tell everyone else in his family but Bailey?
I haven’t missed the questioning looks I’ve been on the receiving end of from Bash and Thalia, but I guess it shouldn’t surprise me if Hunter kept the breakup to himself.
“I know, Bailey,” I admit, and the devastation of what could’ve been finally sinks in now that I’m standing in front of him.
His face pales, making his freckles stand out more. “What?” he asks, as if needing to hear me say exactly what Hunter told me.
“I broke up with Hunter this afternoon. He told me what he did to you. ”
To us, echoes in my mind, and Bailey looks like he’s seen a ghost.
Tears flood my vision, and I let myself feel everything I’ve tried to hide from because I thought it’d hurt less.
“It’s in the past,” he says, but it looks like it pains him to say it.
I swallow the lump forming in my throat, hoping he doesn’t mean that. It’s not the past for me. It’s my present, and I can’t forget this happened.
“Is it?” I ask, feeling my stomach roll as his mouth opens and then shuts while he stares at me.
I didn’t know.
I think everything would be different.
Do you hate me for not fighting for us?
Is it too late?
“Do you want me to leave?”
Bailey’s next move answers my question more than words ever could when he steps forward, wrapping me in his arms and tucking me against him. Now that I’m no longer actively fighting the pull I feel toward him, it feels like the most natural feeling in the world to be held by him.
I feel safe.
“I don’t want you to leave,” he whispers, and I curl my fingers into the soft fabric of his shirt, breathing in the smell of citrus and laundry detergent. He rests his cheek against my head, and I feel more tears slip down my cheeks. “It’ll be okay.”
I think I believe him.
A door opens behind me, and I back up instinctively, wiping my nose on the sleeve of my sweatshirt. “Oh, sorry! I, um, was just going to grab a snack, and . . . yeah,” Mirabelle stammers, her gaze bouncing back and forth between us. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah, everything’s fine. Do you want me to get something for you?” Bailey offers, and it feels like I’ve been caught with my hand in the cookie jar. I’m certain my entire face is bright red right now, and I have no idea where I’m supposed to look.
“No, that’s okay. You guys look . . . um, busy. I can get my own snacks. Sorry again,” Mira says, and her footsteps are soft as she walks down the hall to the stairs.
“Sorry, I should go. It’s late, and we can talk about this tomorrow.” My nerves are getting the better of me after being caught by Mirabelle, and when I glance at Bailey’s face, it’s full of confusion.
“Is that really what you want?” he asks, his voice rough.