44. Will
CHAPTER 44
WILL
SEVEN SUMMERS AGO
I look down at my watch, feeling a slight wave of frustration hitting me as I realize I never heard back from Hannah after her appointment. But we’d agreed to meet tonight earlier in the week, so I push those thoughts aside, figuring she may have just gotten busy working around the farm.
Plus, I haven’t had an extra moment to check in with her the way I normally would. Between the shitshow of a conversation with my dad earlier today, the summer coming to an end this week, and the knowledge that my dad managed to break my mom’s heart all over again when I told her about everything that happened, my mood is already shit.
I pull into the driveway and fire off a text to her, letting her know I’m here, dimming the headlights and running my hand over my face.
The last thing I want to do is let my fucking dad ruin our last few days together, the way he tends to ruin everything else. I attempt to push him and his bullshit out of my mind so I can focus on Hannah. It’s taking her longer than normal to make her way to me, but I figure she may not have seen my text right away. After a couple more minutes, I finally catch a flash of movement in the darkness ahead of me, and Hannah emerges, pulling up the door slowly.
I can immediately tell that something isn’t right with her. Even in the dark cab of the truck, I can see that the usual fire in her eyes is gone, and she makes no move to kiss me like she normally does when she crawls up beside me, sitting as far away from me as the truck will allow.
I feel an alarm of unease go off in my head, but I shake it off, telling myself she’s probably just as sad as I am at the prospect of going back to college this weekend.
“Hey, Han,” I tell her, pasting on the best smile I can muster and leaning over to drop a kiss on her forehead. She doesn’t reply, just gives me a tight smile that looks more like a grimace, and I turn back to restart my truck.
Just as I turn the key, she reaches out and places her hand on my arm. “Just stay here.”
My face twists in confusion as I look over at her. “I thought we were going to our creek. You don’t want to tonight?”
Hannah refuses to look at me, crossing her arms over her chest and holding herself tightly before whispering, “Will, we need to talk.”
I feel like ice floods my veins at those words, and I just stare at her, waiting for her to say whatever’s on her mind. After a moment, she continues. “This summer has been incredible, but we’ve got to be realistic. We can’t go on like this.”
“Like what?” I ask her, trying to figure out where this is coming from. “I told you we just have to make the distance work for a year, Han. Really just a couple months while school’s in session. Then, I’ll be done with school and I’ll do whatever it takes to make this work. If next summer you want me to move to Tuscaloosa for your senior year and work odd jobs until we’re both ready to move home, I’ll do it. But I can’t let you walk away because you’re scared.”
“Fuck you, Will,” she snarls, and I’m taken aback by the anger in her voice. “I know you think you’re Superman, but you can’t fix everything. You don’t just get to decide that we’re gonna be together!”
“What the hell, Han? Are you serious? We literally just talked about this the other day and you told me that this was what you wanted! And now you’re acting like what? I made it all up?”
“I don’t know what to tell you, Will. We’ve been acting like a bunch of fucking idiots, and I can’t do it. I’m sorry, but I’m done.”
I reach for her, refusing to accept the bullshit she’s spewing right now. “I’m sorry, Hannah, but I’m not okay with that.”
As soon as my hand brushes her arm, she pulls back, finally looking at me long enough to notice the tears streaming down her face. “Han, please talk to me. If this is really what you want, then why the hell are you crying?”
I try to pull her to me again, but she yanks back, and I see a determination in her eyes that wasn’t there before. Straightening her back, she glares at me with an anger that I don’t understand. “God, Will, what do I have to do to get it through your fucking head that I don’t want you anymore. The summer was fun, but I’m over it, okay? The sex was nice, but you were just a distraction from the fact that none of my friends are here. So just move on and forget about me, okay?” she says, glaring at me again.
“Oh, and here. You can have this back. I don’t need it anymore,” she says, reaching up and undoing the clasp of the necklace I gave her for her birthday a few weeks ago before holding it out to me.
My breath catches in my throat, and I try to argue. “Han, that was a gift. I don’t need it back. You keep it.”
“Will, just take the damned thing so I can get the hell out of here,” she says, frustration evident in her voice.
Feeling like I don’t have any other choice, I reach out and take the necklace from her, tucking it in the pocket of my jeans. “Please don’t do this, Han,” I mutter, unable to help myself.
“Will, I’ve told you, nothing you say is gonna change my mind, so you need to accept that this is over,” she argues, folding her arms across her chest.
I open my mouth a few times to respond, but no matter what I do, I can’t force any words to come out. I sit in stunned silence, coming to terms with the fact that she basically just ripped my heart out and stomped all over it.
“I need to go,” she says, leaning over and opening her door. “Lose my number and don’t contact me again because there’s no future for us, m’kay?”
And with that, she’s gone, slamming the door and running back to her house.
I watch her go, trying to piece together what the fuck the last twenty minutes just were. My chest fucking hurts at the thought of losing her, but what the hell call I do about it? After watching the way my parent’s marriage ended, I should have known better.
There’s no such thing as a happily ever after, and the people who claim to love us the most always fucking leave.
I sit in the silence of my truck for a few minutes, willing away the sadness I feel at losing what Hannah and I should have been and trying to convince myself to replace it with anger at the way she ended us. And as hard as I try, I know I’ll never be able to convince myself that that’s the truth.