32. Hannah Jane
32
HANNAH JANE
I wanted to vomit.
Isaac had slipped out of the pool house while I was talking about wedding details with Marissa. Jake told me he stepped out to take a call, but I went looking when I didn’t see him nearby.
My mother caught me around the arm as I made my way to the house. “Sweetheart, look at you. Pretty as a peach, but it’s time to stop acting like a child and do what needs to be done to secure your future. You don’t want to be working all your life, do you? Now that you’ve passed thirty, you should think about seeing my esthetician. Wrinkle prevention starts early.” She eyed my father’s study. “Better lock that one down before he gets away. Even if—rumor has it—he has wandering eyes. At least it’s better than being alone. You look polished now, but we both know that your looks are so fleeting—they come and go. Heaven forbid you get pregnant before you sign a marriage license. One baby, and you’ll lose that figure of yours, and he won’t want you anymore. Don’t be foolish, girl. I’m just being honest with you. ”
That was my mother’s specialty: cruel words disguised as tough love.
The old saying about sticks and stones never applied to the Hayes household. Words hurt far worse than broken bones.
I wanted to scream. And cry. Probably both, simultaneously.
More than anything, I wanted to grab Isaac and get out of the twilight zone as fast as I could.
I had peeked through the cracked door just in time to hear Isaac say, “I’m going to make this crystal clear. I’m not pursuing marriage. It’s not on the horizon. It’s not in the near or distant future. I have been clear with Hannah Jane from the start. We have an understanding, and while I love her very much, I do not intend to marry her—not that that’s any of your business.”
My father’s gaze met mine, but he quickly looked back at Isaac. I wasn’t sure what hurt the most: Isaac’s words or my father’s silent I told you so .
Act like a lady and remember your manners. Don’t be foolish, girl. No one will want to marry you if you don’t sit still and look pretty, my mother used to say.
My father’s version was much more succinct. Be seen, not heard.
Funny—they never said those things to Jake.
The flight from the airport in Charlotte back to Beaufort was quiet. Isaac’s words played over and over in my head—a constant loop, reminding me how foolish I had been to believe he would change.
Isaac had been clear from the start: a few orgasms and nothing more. He wasn’t one to stick around.
But I had also been clear. I wanted to get married. I wanted to be husband and wife. I wanted kids. I wanted the happily ever after.
How stupid was I to think that when he said he was willing to give this— us —a shot, that he meant to give us a shot with an end goal in sight. Not just an indefinite relationship .
Foolish. Just like my mother said I was.
I stared at the window as we descended over the airfield in Beaufort. Isaac hadn’t stopped holding my hand since we left Jake and Marissa’s engagement party. Thankfully, the flight was short.
“You okay, Princess?” he asked as we hopped into my car and pulled out of the airfield.
I folded my hands neatly in my lap and crossed my ankles, one behind the other. “Just fine, thank you. It’s been a long day.” The luxury of skipping the ten-hour round-trip drive by flying private did nothing to stave off the emotional exhaustion. I felt it deep in my bones.
Isaac eyed me suspiciously as he drove toward downtown Beaufort. “Don’t do that to me, Hannah. Don’t shut me out.”
I placed my hand on top of his where it rested on the center console. “Thank you for going with me today.”
“Hannah,” Isaac growled, turning sharply into my drive. He slammed the car into park and cut the ignition. “Talk to me. I can’t fix whatever it is if you don’t fucking talk to me. What’s going on?”
My hands were trembling. Tears were rushing in. Everything had been so perfect, but this? We couldn’t come back from this. We were at an impasse.
“Did you mean what you told my father?” I asked softly, thankful that my voice didn’t waver.
Isaac ran his hand over his hair. He sighed and sunk back against the driver’s seat. “Like I told you before—I don’t lie. I don’t know what part of that conversation you heard, but I meant what I said.”
I sniffed back a tear and looked down. “So, that’s it? You were just going to lead me on until you got bored?”
“Hannah, where is this coming from?”
“You don’t want to get married,” I said with a sick laugh. “And we have an understanding about that? Forgive me, but I clearly remember telling you exactly what my relationship goals were. ”
“Yeah,” he cut back, gripping the steering wheel with deadly force. “And I clearly remember telling you that I don’t do marriage.”
Another tear rolled down my cheek, and I swatted it away like a mosquito. “Then what was that bullshit you told me months ago, huh?” I jabbed a finger at him. “I told you this wouldn’t work, and somehow you convinced me—how did you say it? Oh yeah, you convinced me to give you one shot to do this right. You lied to me, Isaac Lawson. You let me believe that this was going somewhere.” I yanked the door handle and jumped out of the car.
"Hannah, listen to me!" he shouted, getting out and slamming the driver’s side door shut. “I want you more than I’ve wanted any woman or anything in my entire life. Ask me for the moon, and I will pull it out of the sky for you. But marriage is the one thing I cannot give you.”
Every word ripped through me like a bullet, and a Band-Aid was all he had to offer.
A black car with tinted windows pulled into the driveway. We both knew it was coming. He only drove me home to say goodbye while his plane refueled at the airstrip for a red-eye to London.
“So that’s it?” I asked, dropping my hands in utter disbelief. “All of this for nothing?”
"I want you, Hannah Jane," Isaac said flatly. He stood there, stoic. Not a glimmer of emotion anywhere to be found. “Nothing has to change. You and me? We don’t have to change. I love you, but I can’t give you what you want. Not this time.” His voice broke on the last word. At least there was a chance this was hurting him like it was hurting me .
“I don’t understand how you can walk away. How can you love me but not want a future? A family? I’m not talking about walking down the aisle tomorrow, Isaac! I’m not even talking about the next five years. I just need to know that it’s a possibility.” I was pleading.
Pathetic. Foolish .
Isaac swallowed. The cords in his neck strained as his Adam’s apple dipped. He steeled the corners of his mouth and clenched his fists. The telltale signs of someone holding everything in. It was like looking in a mirror.
“Han,” his voice caught. He pinched the bridge of his nose before scrubbing his palm over his mouth and down the side of his jaw. “Marriage… it’s just… I can’t, Princess. I’m not the marrying kind, and you shouldn’t settle for someone who doesn’t want what you want.”
A flood of tears streamed down my face, and the rest of my body went numb. The five feet between us might as well have been five thousand. Foolish girl .
He stuffed his hands in his pockets. “I’m sorry.”
“Have a safe trip,” I said quietly.
Isaac took a few steps, placed his hand on my arm, and kissed my cheek. “Be well, Miss Hayes.” He turned and walked to the waiting car. Without a second glance, he slid into the backseat and closed the door.
The driver backed out of the driveway and pulled onto the street.
“Be here,” I whispered as the car turned into a speck of black in the distance.
“Beaufort P.D.—open up!”
Chase could go fuck himself. I would have rolled my eyes, but even that hurt. That’s what three solid days of crying did.
I knew what he was banging on my door about. I missed poker night.
It was nothing against the poker club; I just didn’t feel like getting dressed. Or leaving the house. Or being social .
“Hannah Jane Hayes,” he boomed . He was intent on waking the whole damn neighborhood. “Open up.”
He knew where the spare key was. If he wanted to come in, he would.
Frankly, I was surprised that I had made it this long without someone asking what the hell happened.
Then again, the only way they would have known is if Isaac told Luca. It’s not like he lived here. A few toiletries, pairs of boxers, and sweatpants were the only remaining evidence of Isaac.
It took less than two minutes to box it all up and hide it under lock and key.
Less than two minutes to add that box to my relationship graveyard.
I heard the front door open and close. Chase’s feet clobbered across the hardwoods. “Han, I know you’re home. If you’re not decent, I’m about to see you naked.”
I sniffed back the train of snot and stuffed another bite of Fruity Pebbles in my face. Even Fred Flintstone couldn’t make me feel better.
Chase stomped up the stairs, but I didn’t move.
“Geez, it smells in here,” he grunted under his breath before calling out, “Han, where you at?”
He cut the bedroom lights on, and I winced. The brightness was blinding.
“Oh, fuck,” he exclaimed, jumping out of the doorway like he’d just spotted the kraken.
Did I really look that bad?
“H-hey, you…” he said hesitantly, inching back in the room with a strange mix of terror and horror on his face. “You, uh… Wow.” Chase rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly. “You look… Comfortable.”
Ah, shit. He was southern ing me. No one did backhanded compliments like we did .
I love how you did your hair, sweetheart. It looks SO much better.
He wears that beard the way she wears CoverGirl.
Bless your heart.
Well, isn’t that just like you.
I looked up from my nest of pillows with puppy dog eyes. “Do I really look that bad?”
Chase crossed one arm over his chest and pressed his fist to his mouth. He waited a beat before pointing a finger at me. “Do you remember that time you got food poisoning after that caterer undercooked the chicken at some wedding?”
I nodded.
He grimaced. “It’s worse than that.”
I groaned and burrowed into my blanket cave. Chase crossed the room and grabbed my full-length mirror. He hauled it back and set it in front of the side of the bed I was cocooned in.
Oh, it was bad.
I had a cereal crumb beard, and that was the least repulsive part of the picture. My face looked like a red balloon from crying my eyes out. My hair was a rat’s nest. It was knotted and matted beyond belief. Concealer wouldn’t cut it at this point. I needed to get some paint and primer from the hardware store to hide the splotchy patches on my cheeks and dark circles under my eyes.
There were empty cereal boxes scattered on the floor beside the bed. My sheets were crunchy and crumb-riddled. I was ninety percent sure that I had a Lucky Charms marshmallow stuck to the boob that was falling out of my tank top.
Chase eyed my bedside table, where two empty bottles of wine and a still mostly-full fifth of Hennessy sat.
“M’kay, I’m gonna go out on a limb and say that you’re not sick,” he said as he examined the wine bottles again. “Except for maybe diabetes and alcohol poisoning.” He sighed. “When was the last time you had actual food?” He wrinkled his nose. “Or a shower? Or… shit, Han, you’re freaking me out. I’ve never seen you like this. Wh at the hell happened? I don’t know if I need to get the girls over here or if I need to call for a biohazard clean-up.” He looked out the window. “Maybe I should just take you out back and hose you down.”
Tears filled my eyes again. I tried to wipe them away, but it was useless.
Chase crouched down next to me and asked gently, “How much time am I going to do for killing him? Are we talking about regular ol’ premeditated murder? Am I going to get a Class H felony tacked on for willfully dismembering human remains? I’m at the age where life in prison doesn’t seem that long, so it’s up to you, Hayes.”
I couldn’t help but smile. “Life in prison for you would be at least fifty or sixty years. He’s not worth it.” I rolled onto my stomach and sighed. “We broke up.” Hearing the words out loud wrecked me.
He nodded and put his hand on my back. “I figured that much. I’ve just never seen you take it this hard before.”
Mascara and tears stained my pillow like zebra stripes. “I really thought he was the one…”
He rose to his feet and fired off a text before peeling my cereal bowl from my hands and setting it aside. I didn’t bother fighting him on it. I felt another nap coming on.
Chase rested his hands on his hips as he transitioned from the role of best friend to Detective Brannan . “Did he hurt you physically? Did he threaten you? Did he violate your consent in any way?” Chase was just fishing for a reason to harass Isaac, and I loved him for it.
“Never,” I whimpered, shaking my head. “Isaac was… he was perfect for me.”
Chase looked at me pitifully. I fucking hated that. He tried to pat my shoulder, but I swatted him away.
“I’m sensitive, not soft. I will punch you while I’m crying.” It seemed like something Isaac would laugh at and then respond with Hell Yes, Ma’am. The nickname pissed me off before, and now I hated how much I missed it.
There was a knock at the door, but whoever was on the other side didn’t care that no one answered. They let themselves in.
I groaned and buried my face in the pillow. Suffocating didn’t seem like a bad way to go. It could certainly be worse.
“What did you do?” I groaned.
“Oh God,” Maddie’s voice carried through the house. “It’s worse than I thought.”
“Someone crack a window and cut the fan on,” Mel ordered, jumping straight into triage.
“Babe, why the hell didn’t you call us?” Bridget snapped. “You just ghosted us on poker night. We thought you were dead or worse.”
“What’s worse than being dead?” Maddie asked as she ripped the covers back and threw them on the floor, sending a shower of cereal crumbs flying through the air. I didn’t know if the bedding needed to be washed or burned.
“This,” Mel said, hands on her hips. “This is worse than being dead.”
Bridget clasped her hands over her mouth and shrieked in horror. “Oh God, y’all, she’s wearing leggings .”
Maddie’s eyes looked like two full moons. “She’s always carrying on about how leggings aren’t pants! Oh, this is bad.”
“I have smelling salts in my car,” Mel said.
Maddie ran into my closet, grabbed a pair of stilettos and a leather handbag, and threw them onto the bed. “Designer leather works better on her,” she said as if I wasn’t in the same damn room. She shoved Kate Spade into my face. “Deep cleansing breaths, sweetie.”
I looked over at Chase. He eyed the door, waiting for the right moment to escape. Our eyes locked, and something tugged on my heart.
I mouthed, “Thank you.”
He pointed at me and mouthed, “Shower,” before trudging down the stairs.