Chapter 15 #3
“And every time I look at you…” His voice cracks. “I remember that he's never coming home.”
I feel my heartbeat in my throat.
Noah shakes his head. “I can't believe William is dead and some pathetic excuse for a hockey player is still alive.”
The words hit with frightening precision. Not because they're new. Because I've whispered them to myself for two years.
Noah takes one step backward. “I don't want your apology. Just leave my family and me alone.”
He brushes past my shoulder without another glance and disappears back into the locker room.
I stay where I am. The hallway is silent again. Somewhere down the corridor someone laughs. A cart rattles across the concrete floor. Life keeps moving.
I stare at the spot where Noah had been standing only seconds ago.
Oddly enough, I don't cry.
The tears never come.
Instead, something inside me simply caves inward.
Because for one terrible moment, hearing someone else say the words almost sounds like proof that I’ve been right all along.
I tell Ash it went okay. The lie leaves my mouth so easily it almost scares me. He searches my face for a second, and I force myself to smile.
“It's okay,” I repeat.
He lets out a slow breath. “Good.”
The relief in his voice hurts more than Noah's words had.
Ash steps closer, brushing his thumb over my knuckles. “I was worried.”
“I know.”
His shoulders finally relax.
“So…” I clear my throat. “I was wondering something.”
“Hm?”
“I was going to Uber home.”
Ash's eyebrows lift. “Okay.”
“But…” I hesitate just long enough to make him curious. “Would you come over tonight?”
His expression changes immediately. “You want me at your place?”
“Yeah.”
“When?”
“Seven.”
His mouth slowly curls into a smile. “What's at seven?”
I shrug. “It's a surprise.”
“Oh?”
“Don't make that face.”
“What face?”
“The one where you're already making it dirty.”
His grin widens. “I wasn't.”
“You absolutely were.”
“I have no idea what you're talking about.”
“Pervert.”
He looks genuinely pleased by the accusation. “You still haven't told me what the surprise is.”
“If I tell you, it won't be a surprise.”
He pretends to consider that. “Fair.”
“So?”
“So?”
“Will you come?”
His answer comes without hesitation. “I'll be there.”
“Seven.”
“I'll be early.”
“I figured.”
He squeezes my hand one last time before pulling me into a quick kiss. “I'll see you tonight, Hayes.”
“See you tonight.”
The Uber ride home is quiet. I spend most of it staring out the window while the city drifts by in shades of gray. The driver asks if my day has been alright. I tell him yes.
That makes three lies.
By the time I reach my apartment, grocery bags have cut deep grooves into my fingers. I put everything away methodically.
Every movement feels automatic. Something to keep my hands busy. Something to stop my brain.
It doesn't work.
The apartment is too quiet. William's face finds me almost immediately.
Noah's voice follows close behind. Some pathetic excuse for a hockey player is still alive.
I close my eyes.
Don't.
Please don't.
I can't believe he's dead...
I swallow hard. The groceries are already put away. There's nothing left to organize. Nothing left to distract myself with. The silence begins pressing in from every direction.
Angela is probably home. If I stay out here, she'll hear me.
I quietly walk down the hallway and slip into the bathroom before locking the door behind me. The room is barely large enough to turn around in. Cold tile. White walls. A mirror hanging above the sink.
I grip the edge of the counter until my knuckles turn white. “Breathe.”
My own voice sounds unfamiliar.
I inhale.
Exhale.
It doesn't help.
Noah's face flashes through my mind.
Then William's.
Then the ice.
Then blood.
Then Mrs. Grove squeezing my hand across that conference table.
“You didn't mean to hurt him.”
A strangled sound escapes my throat. I slide slowly down the vanity until I'm sitting on the cold tile floor. The panic comes all at once. My breathing falls apart. Tears blur the bathroom into streaks of white and silver.
I pull my knees against my chest and bury my face in my arms.
No.
No.
No.
I tried.
God, I tried.
I went to practice.
I talked to Noah.
I apologized.
I did everything right.
Why does it still hurt this much?
Why can't I just…
Move.
On.
The sob that tears out of me echoes against the bathroom walls. I press both hands over my mouth to muffle it. Angela is next door. Ash is coming over tonight. I don't want either of them to hear me.
Minutes pass.
Maybe longer.
Time stops making sense.
I pull the razor blades from the drawer. I just need to feel okay. I just need to last until tonight. So I can show Ash what he means to me. So I can thank him.
I dig the blade into my skin, severing the flesh of my arm until I can breathe again. I drop the blade, blood leaking down my arm onto the tile.
The sobs crack through me as the pain slowly dulls my mind. The thoughts.
The one thought that I've been struggling to keep at bay for so long but is now banging on my front door.
And now...
Now I wonder if I should just let it in.