Paige
two
I’m going stir-crazy, holed up in my apartment, pacing like a caged tiger at the zoo after turning my phone off.
It was ringing and pinging nonstop with calls and messages from Mama, her friends, and people I’ve never even met trying to get me to comment on the state of my marriage.
I can’t stay here like this anymore. I pull on a baseball cap and set out on a walk to a nearby park just to get a little reprieve from nearly climbing the walls.
I need fresh air and exercise to sate the anxious energy rippling through me like a roadside puddle disturbed by passing cars.
“Where’s your new beau, sugar? I wouldn’t let a handsome man like that out of my sight,” a woman I’ve never met says as I pass her on the street.
I guess I won’t be able to even walk around Savannah for a while without someone stopping me to ask about what should be my private affairs, either.
I don’t know when my life became so interesting, but I’d like to go back to being relatively unknown.
I’ve kept a low profile for years hoping to keep myself out of the Savannah gossip mill, yet here I am, right in the middle of it anyway, getting crushed for the amusement of others.
Is this what my life would be like if I stay with Hayes?
A spectacle for others to comment on and my reputation forever to be known as the girl who was too young, too foolish, and too hasty to marry a billionaire after knowing him for a week.
It doesn’t look good, even from my own vantage point.
It’s no wonder people are voicing their concerns and opinions openly to me on the street.
I look like the biggest idiot, and of course Hayes gets away with his own reputation unblemished.
The most infuriating part is that everyone seems to think I was the one to mess this up, and for whatever reason—maybe because Hayes is rich, or older, or a high-profile businessman—it’s somehow my fault.
Newsflash: Money and age don’t make you impervious to making mistakes that you need to own up to, and Hayes has a lot of responsibility to accept for his part in whatever this is.
A fight for the ages, I would imagine. Or the end of everything we had together.
While it was once a delight, right now I hate that I live off Broughton Street, a busy shopping area, with people out in droves this afternoon.
What day is it, again? I look around at the shoppers with bags on their arms and see the holiday displays in the windows as I pass each store.
Oh. Christmas must be less than two weeks away by now.
A fresh wave of sadness and pain pierces my chest. I was going to spend my first Christmas with Hayes, and now I’m thinking I will spend it perfectly alone, since I’m not on speaking terms with Mama and Daddy, either.
As I’m passing a boutique I usually love to pop into, Liliana Bailey and Amber Cramer, two girls I went to school with, exit together with shopping bags in hand.
They turn directly into my path, and I have a moment of panic, instantly trying to avert my face so they don’t recognize me.
I just want to get past them quickly and avoid any kind of conversation.
Liliana snags my arm, so I have to stop, and turns me toward them. “Oh, Paige, we were just talking about you,“ she says sweetly, though her smile is vicious.
“Hello, Liliana, Amber,” I say with begrudging politeness. My practiced manners are the only things keeping me from being rude and snubbing them completely, even if I’m not yet ready to engage with her on whatever she is speaking about.
Of course, they would be talking about me.
As the reigning mean girls at our high school and members of the social circles that keep Savannah afloat, I was always subject to Liliana’s tortuous attention and Amber’s willingness to go along with whatever cruel plot Liliana came up with.
I thought I had managed to escape the worst of it as an adult.
Who knows what Liliana’s jealous of this time, or if she really is just that mean.
“We were wondering how you could be separated from your billionaire husband so quickly. I mean, that’s the rumor going around, and you look like shit, so it must be true. What happened?” Liliana asks, her voice dripping with sarcastic concern.
“You had it good, why’d you let that man get away?” Amber adds with mock sincerity as she comes up on my other side, trapping me between them.
“I’m sorry, I really have to go,” I say as I duck my head.
I wish I had turned in the opposite direction when I left my apartment.
It’s just my luck to actually see someone I know at exactly the worst time.
I try to remove my arm from Liliana’s clutches, but she clamps down harder and keeps me in place.
“How did someone like you get the attention of someone like Hayes Olsen in the first place? He is way out of your league, and I just don’t know what he saw in you.
“ Liliana’s gaze rakes me from head to toe, taking in my jeans, chunky sweater, and the hat I threw on over my lank, unwashed hair before leaving.
Her lip curls in distaste as she flicks her silky auburn hair over her shoulder.
I silently meet her cold brown eyes briefly and fidget uncomfortably. I’ve asked myself that very question. What could Hayes have seen in me?
“Oh, wait, it must have been because he wanted to buy your daddy’s hotel group.
What a shame that is for you,” Liliana says, her bubblegum pink lips curving up into a mean smile.
“Bless your heart. You must have been collateral damage for him to get what he truly wanted.
There is no way he actually wanted to be with you of all people.
“ She tsks. “That must be it. How sad for you, Paige. If only you had a little more experience you could have kept him interested longer. But no, he got what he wanted and dumped you like yesterday’s garbage.”
Tears prick my eyes, and I am frantic to leave before she can see just how badly she’s hurt me with her words. “That’s enough, please let me go,” I plead, my eyes downcast.
“You should have stuck with Garrison Daniels when you had the chance. At least his mama and daddy would have made him stay married to you, not that he really cared about you. Gosh, you really are just a means to an end, aren’t you, sweety?
” Amber says, her smile just as vicious as Liliana’s when I risk a glance in her direction.
A tear tracks down my cheek as I yank my arm away from Liliana and take shaky steps away from these horrible women who laugh as I flee.
I turn a corner to get away from the busy street and my tormentors, feeling the tears sliding down my cheeks unchecked.
Of course they know about Mama’s plan to marry me off.
That means all of Savannah does, too, since they are notorious gossips who relish spreading hurtful rumors and truths alike.
I turn into the park and take a trail off the main path, heading into the Spanish moss-draped oaks and magnolias to find a space that’s not crowded with people so I can sob freely.
I sit with my back to an ancient oak and wipe my cheeks.
It’s so unfair that I am cast in the villain role.
This thing with Hayes didn’t happen without both of us contributing to the fight, and I know the part I played.
I walked out when he betrayed my trust when I probably should have stayed long enough to get the explanation I was due.
Walking out after that may have still been warranted, but I’ll never know for sure because I acted on emotion.
Now, pride keeps me from reaching out, especially knowing the mess that the South thinks of me.
The Fairchild name is being dragged through the mud and my reputation is the lowest it’s ever been, all because people make assumptions about a situation they have no business discussing.
This is between Hayes and me. But… isn’t he the one who needs to reach out?
If he wanted to make things right, he could have just come after me at The Abyss and fought for us.
He chose not to do that and here we are, separated for nearly as long as we were together.
When I’m cried out and done feeling sorry for myself, I stand and let my hands drag over the large leaves of the bushes to my sides as I walk aimlessly through the interior of the park.
Rationally, I know I had every right to be upset that he wouldn’t have included me in such an important, life-altering decision that one hundred percent affects me.
And if he had his head too clouded with business wheeling and dealing to see that, it’s his loss.
Being in the right doesn’t make it any easier to weather this storm.
Hayes became all-consuming for the short amount of time he was a fixture in my life, and it absolutely sucks to be without him now.
I hate the part of me that wants to call him, or even drive to Atlanta and beg him to take me back like I was in the wrong, but it’s undeniable that I miss Hayes.
His warmth, his big arms that make me feel so safe and protected when I’m in them, the way he could look at me and I knew I was treasured.
I especially miss his demon spawn dog and even Hayes’s devilish ways.
So much can change in a matter of weeks, and I’m discovering that in some cases, those changes are indelible. Like my heart. It was whole and untarnished a few weeks ago, but now it’s cracked and there isn’t anything that can fix the Hayes-shaped hole that’s left behind.
A snapping twig catches my attention and I freeze mid-stride.
I slowly set my foot down and turn to look around me.
I don’t see anyone in particular, so it could have been a squirrel or bird that made the noise.
I resume my walk, but my steps are a little quicker and I head toward the pathways that crisscross through the park so I feel less alone.
Being this angry is also an isolating experience.
I’m lonely. I’ve refused to speak to my parents right along with Hayes.
I’ve come to expect ruthless dealings from Mama, but Daddy selling the hotels without even consulting me showed a new side of his own calculation.
It all comes down to money, and I’m beginning to see that it really is the root of all evil.
Even if it can make you happy in a materialistic way, it can just as easily destroy you.
A few people are walking through the park when I reach the paths, and I keep my head down to avoid making eye contact with any of them as we pass.
I feel my shoulder bumped and I look up to catch the eye of a man in dark clothing as he brushes past me.
I mumble an apology and shiver, hugging my arms around my body as I continue walking toward home.
Despite all that she did, I find myself wanting to call Mama and ask for her to take over again.
Maybe things would go back to normal, even if my normal has had a seismic shift from what I was used to.
I pull my cell out of my back pocket and stare at the screen, debating if I have it in me to do it.
With a big sigh, I swipe the screen open and have the phone dialing before I can overthink one more thing.
I don’t have to force myself to be lonely and sit in my pain all by myself.
I do have people in my life who care about me, even if they are few and far between.
“Hey, sorry to call you out of the blue,” I say, pressing my free hand against my eyes. “I guess I just need someone right now who gets me.”