28. hayes
TWENTY-EIGHT
hayes
T he hum of conversation fills the banquet hall, each step I take feels heavier than the last. The golden lights cast a warm glow on the tables and the guests, all with their bright smiles and polished exteriors. But they are not the reason I’m here. After ending things with Fallon, I wasn’t planning to come. I know she doesn’t want to see me, especially after Jace informed me right before we got into the limousine this evening that he might’ve told Fallon that I wouldn’t care if she went out with him. Despite the good intentions he claimed to have when seeing her, he’s still a prick.
The weight of my emotions is suffocating.
One thing is undeniably clear: I am in love with her.
I wanted another chance to see her, even if I couldn’t be with her. I wanted to make sure she was okay. I wanted to see that fire in her eyes again, the strength she carried with her, the way she made everything feel real. I've come a long way from the person I used to be, and I'm determined to show her that.
And as I scan the room, I find her.
She’s standing across the hall, bathed in the soft light, a vision in an emerald green dress that seems to shimmer every time she moves. Made of only silk, it exposes her delicate shoulders and collarbone, which no longer show the bruising of my teeth. Because of the plunging neckline, the slightest glimpse of her soft breasts is revealed on either side. And the slit in her skirt, my god, displays the inner part of her left thigh, drawing my gaze higher until her skin disappears behind the fabric, leaving me yearning for just another inch.
Her long raven hair is curled, leaving her profile framed in an exquisite composite of confidence and ease, and for a moment, I can’t breathe. She’s stunning. No, more than stunning—she’s everything I’ve been trying to fight my entire life.
I hold my breath and silence the noise of bystanders chatting to focus solely on her. The heat of my gaze could warm cities, perhaps even set her aflame from where she stands on the opposite side of the banquet hall.
It is certainly enough to draw her attention.
Her green eyes glow like sapphires in the twinkling lights, holding me in place—clutching my heart until I’m positive I’ve stopped breathing.
Fallon.
I want to walk over to her. I need to talk to her. To apologize for everything, to explain the mess I had made of things. But before I can move, I feel a presence beside me.
Raquel.
My father insisted I bring her. It was the only way to ensure I would present the grant tonight.
She loops her arm through mine, pulling me back to reality. “Hayes,” she says, her smile dripping with sweetness that doesn’t reach her eyes. “You can’t avoid me all night.”
I ignore her, remaining fixated on Fallon, who has since turned away from me after noticing Raquel on my arm.
Some part of me hoped that Raquel wouldn’t agree to my father’s plan—that she wouldn’t be okay trapping me into a marriage I want no part of. But similarly to me, Raquel would rather not face her father’s wrath. It’s archaic to think about. She’s terrified to tell her father she’s pregnant because of what his reaction might be. For that, I do empathize with her.
But I disagree that I should bear responsibility.
I attempt to pry my arm away from Raquel’s death grip. Raised in the same world as me, Raquel is all about appearances. I imagine she’s murdering me internally for not keeping up our charade well enough in public, especially since most people here know who I am. Fallon hasn’t realized it yet because she hasn’t been involved in the business world long enough to know her enemies.
I’m frantic for her.
Even with Raquel still stuck to me like glue, I cross the banquet hall, nodding to Thomas when he sees me approach. He nudges Fallon and whispers something to her, taking her hand before she spins around to face me.
I look at no one but her.
There’s so much I need to say to her.
“Fallon,” I say, her name like sweet nectar on my lips. “You look beautiful tonight.” I might be drooling. “Radiant.”
“Fitz,” she mirrors. “Thank you.”
Thomas doesn’t let me off as easily. “What the fuck are you even doing here? Do you own a business?”
Raquel laughs. I’d forgotten she’s here. “How do you not know who he is? This is Hayes Fitzgerald.”
Fallon raises an unimpressed eyebrow, which causes me to grin. And to my surprise, I don’t care that Raquel is about to give away my identity. It no longer matters. I secured Fallon’s future for her. That is all that’s important.
I want to kiss her. I need to see if she tastes the same. I’m not holding back at the blatant way I’m admiring everything she is from head to toe and back again. But she doesn’t squirm under my gaze. Even after I was a bastard to her, she still doesn’t lack confidence in who she is around me.
Ansel balks. “Okay, and?”
Raquel releases my arm and turns, searching the room. When she spots FFJ’s banner displayed on stage, she points to it and looks over her shoulder at Thomas. “His dad owns half of FFJ Holdings. Hayes will be the CEO someday.”
Fallon’s eyes dart from the sign back to me, her lips parting as surprise melts into an otherwise disinterested expression. And I can see the wheels in her mind turning as she connects the dots—my condo in Sanderling, why I never asked for a paycheck, how I could afford such a luxurious lifestyle.
“That’s the business you told me about?” she asks quietly.
Solemnly, I nod.
Raquel spins on her heel to face us again fully, but when she places her hand on her stomach, Fallon’s gaze lowers. And then, she pales as she blurts out, “You’re pregnant.”
Fuck. Fuck, fuck.
Raquel’s hand flies up to cover her mouth as her other grips my arm. “Oh, am I already showing? It’s so early! The doctor said I wouldn’t be able to tell for weeks.” Raquel looks at me, laughing as she adds, “Hopefully we’ll be married before there’s a bump.”
“Married,” Fallon rasps, backing away a step. Her eyes no longer shine from the light but from tears. “You’re glowing. Excuse me, I need to go to the restroom.”
I approach Fallon to explain that the child Raquel is carrying isn’t mine, but Thomas steps between us. “I think you’ve done enough,” he says, his voice laced with warning.
“Thomas,” I plead. “I can explain?—”
From the speaker, the event organizer instructs everyone to take their seats for the program to begin. I look around the hall for Fallon, but she was quick to disappear. I’ll present the check quickly and insist she speak to me afterward.
I take my place at the podium, trying to ignore the buzz of discomfort in my chest. It doesn’t help that the weight of Fallon’s absence in the audience presses down on me harder than anything else in the room.
I clear my throat. “Good evening, everyone,” I begin, my voice steady but distant. “My name is Hayes Fitzgerald, and I’m the son of Frank Fitzgerald, CEO of FFJ Holdings. Tonight, we are honored to be one of the sponsors of this event, supporting the wonderful businesses that make Sanderling such a special place.”
I scan the crowd for a glimpse of Fallon. It isn’t hard to miss her, but she isn’t here. She isn’t anywhere. I can’t find her in the sea of faces.
The room quiets, and I force myself to continue. “This year, we’re proud to present the small business grant to a local favorite: Shoreline Scribes.”
There’s applause, but it feels distant--like I’m not even part of the moment. I look down at the stage and continue, “Fallon Madison, the owner of Shoreline Scribes, couldn’t be with us tonight, but we are thrilled to support her incredible work. She has built something truly special here, and this grant will help her continue that vision as she expands into the heart of the city.”
I paused, waiting for the applause to subside, my heart pounding as I searched the room one last time. Fallon wasn’t there. And I couldn’t help but wonder if she was gone for good.
Thomas stands from his chair and steps forward, but I shake my head. “Since Fallon isn’t here to accept,” I say quickly, “I’ll be hand-delivering the check to Shoreline Scribes personally. I want to make sure Fallon gets it directly from me.”
Thomas shoots me a look of irritation, maybe even confusion, but he doesn’t argue. He can’t, really. Not here in front of hundreds of people. I see the frustration in his eyes as he turns to walk away, but I don’t care. I’m not letting Fallon slip away this time. Not without a fight.
* * *
The sun is barely peeking over the horizon as I arrive at Shoreline Scribes, the store’s quaint, familiar facade standing in stark contrast to the turmoil inside me. I couldn’t wait any longer to see Fallon. After everything at the banquet, I couldn’t stand the thought of leaving things unresolved.
I park my motorcycle outside, the engine’s hum barely registering as I remove my helmet and walk toward the door. The weight of the check in my jacket pocket feels like lead, but it isn’t just about the money. I have to explain. I have to make things right.
I push open the door, the familiar bell chiming as I enter the store. The smell of coffee and books greets me—so her —but the place is empty. Only the soft shuffle of papers behind the counter breaks the silence. I look around for Fallon, but she isn’t here.
Instead, Thomas is at the counter, organizing a stack of books, his brow furrowed in concentration. When he sees me, his gaze hardens, but he doesn’t say anything. He knows exactly why I’m here.
“Where is she?” I ask, my voice tight with both frustration and urgency. “I need to see her.”
Thomas doesn’t immediately respond. He takes his time, placing the last book down with a deliberate slowness that only increases my impatience.
“She’s not here,” Thomas says finally, his voice flat. “She left after the banquet. She’s fine.”
I feel a rush of relief and confusion. “Where did she go?” I press, stepping closer, the words tumbling out before I can stop them. “I need to talk to her. I need to explain about Raquel, about everything.”
Thomas gives me a cold look, his arms crossing over his chest. “You’re really going to tell her now? After all this time?”
My throat tightens, the weight of the situation pressing in on me. “Thomas, please, just tell me where she is. I need to clear things up. I need her to know that Raquel’s baby isn’t mine. I wasn’t with anyone else when I was with Fallon.”
I can see the muscle in Thomas’s jaw tighten. He stares at me momentarily, sizing me up, before shaking his head. “I’m not the one who needs to hear that,” he says, his voice quiet but firm. “She deserves to hear it from you, Fitz. But I don’t think you’ll get that chance if you don’t know where she’s gone.”
The words hit me like a punch. I step back, suddenly unsure of everything. “What do you mean? Where did she go?”
Thomas hesitates for a moment before answering, his voice barely audible. “She went home. To Missouri.”
I freeze. “Home?” I repeat, my voice cracking. “You mean... her hometown? But why? Is she visiting her parents?”
Thomas doesn’t look at me as he says, “Her parents died over a year ago, Fitz.”
The world seems to stop. My heart stutters in my chest, and for a moment, I can’t breathe. I try to process what he just said, but the words don’t make sense. Her parents... died.
The room tilts around me, the weight of it all crashing down. I knew Fallon had some kind of pain buried deep inside, but I never knew it was like this. And now, here I am—too late to be there for her and offer my support when she needs it most.
I swallow hard, trying to find my voice again. “I didn’t know. I didn’t know about her parents.”
Thomas’s gaze softens, but he still doesn’t offer any sympathy. “She doesn’t talk about it much. She never has. But this is why she’s been avoiding you, Fitz. She’s been dealing with her grief, and then you come into the picture... You have no idea how much you’ve shaken her up.”
I can feel my chest tightening again, and my thoughts are a chaotic mess. I didn’t know. I didn’t know about her parents, her grief, the weight she had been carrying all this time. All I’ve been concerned about is my own mess and lies.
“Is she going to stay there for a while?” I ask, already knowing the answer but desperate to hear it. “Maybe take some time away from everything?”
Thomas looks at me, his eyes cold. “She’s gone to her parents’ graves for the first time. She’s been burying her grief and unable to face it. I don’t think she’ll be coming back any time soon.”
I inhale deeply to try and slow my heart rate, my mind reeling. She’s gone. She left, not just from the banquet, but from Sanderling. From me. And now, I have to deal with the consequences.
I turn toward the door, every part of me aching to follow her, to ensure she doesn’t shut me out completely. But I stop before I can take another step.
“Thomas,” I say, my voice softer now. “I need to see her. Please. Tell me where she is. I need to apologize. I need to make things right.”
The hardness in expression dissolves. “It’s not that simple, Fitz. You’ve got a lot to fix. And I’m not sure you’re ready for what that will take.”
I don’t answer him. I don’t know what to say. All I can think about is Fallon and how I’ve failed her—hurt her when she’s already been through so much.
“Thomas, I’m in love with her.” I say the words aloud for the first time, knowing, without a doubt, just how true they are. “Please help me fix this. Tell me where she is.”
Thomas doesn’t say anything for a full minute. I understand what I’m asking from him. I don’t deserve his trust anymore, but he must sense my desperation because he finally says, “I’ll text you the address of where she’s staying.”
I book the next flight out.