Chapter 4
Hazel, three years earlier
Devan scoffed from beside me in the yard, and I noticed the sharp movement of his lips out of the corner of my eye.
“What?” I asked, slightly annoyed that he’d chosen to have me read his lips instead of signing.
“You’re doing it wrong,” he mouthed slowly with a condescending expression.
My chest sank with failure. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m figuring it out though. Once I get the hang of it, I’ll be faster,” I told him, then returned my hands to the new fence post.
He sighed and shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose. Then he lost his composure and pushed me aside. My ankle rolled on the uneven dirt from the sudden movement, and I fell, scraping my elbow on the edge of the retaining wall behind me on my way down.
Devan jerked around when he saw me on the ground, shooting his hands out at his sides, as if he had no idea how I had gotten there. “Fucking Christ, Hazel. You all right?” he asked, his face morphing in frustration instead of concern.
I slowly sat upright, brushing myself off before giving a curt nod.
He offered a hand but threw it away when I didn’t immediately take it. “That was a little dramatic, don’t you think?”
“Losing my balance after being shoved out of the way?” I replied, wincing at the pain in my elbow. “Oh, yeah. My bad.”
He slumped and rolled his eyes. “Well, obviously, I didn’t mean to do that. Besides, I barely touched you.”
I took a couple of deep breaths to calm down and come to my senses.
Of course, he hadn’t meant to. He hadn’t hit me or pushed me to the ground. He just bumped me out of the way to take over, and I lost my footing. I had fallen because I was clumsy. I always had been.
Looking over the scrape, I removed a small piece of sand and sucked in a breath. “Hey, babe. I’m going to go inside to wash this out real quick, okay?”
He raised a brow and chuckled, swinging the hammer loosely in his hand. “Sure.”
I paused and frowned at his strange demeanor. “What?”
He shook his head and looked away from me.
I tapped his shoulder to get him to turn back to me. “Hey, what is it? Why do you seem upset?” My eyes rounded as I begged for clarification.
“Nothing.” He shrugged, his stare glazing over with a familiar vacancy. “You just always look for ways to get out of helping me.”
My mouth popped open, and I clenched my fists, wanting to protest, but I swallowed it back in defeat. He had shut down—I could see it in his eyes—and I wanted to do anything I could to get his attention back.
I looked down at my arm. Freckles of blood grew larger in size over the scrape. I contemplated whether it was really worth cleaning off the dirt. I mean, I could ignore it, right? It wasn’t like it needed stitches. Ugh, but it burned like crazy, and I didn’t want it to get infected.
The longer my head teetered back and forth, the faster my pulse became, like I was running out of time. Devan’s patience with me ran on a very short thread, and I was scared that one of these days, I’d reach the end and fall right off into the unknown.
“Never mind. I can clean it out later. It’s just a scratch,” I finally offered, placing myself beside him. “Where do you want me? I can hold the board steady while you—”
Devan covered my hands with his, pushing them down to silence me. “No. Go ahead. Enjoy the air-conditioning.” He gave me a mocking grin, wiping the sweat from the back of his neck with his bandana.
My chest sank, and I found myself turning my anger inward. Why hadn’t I just kept my mouth shut, dusted myself off, and gotten back up?
“Devan, come on,” I pleaded when my hands were free again.
“Just go.” He nodded toward the house with a curt jut of his chin, signing his words with firmness. “I don’t have time for this. I can do the rest on my own. I’m done with you and this conversation.”
Tears welled in my eyes as he turned his back on me, and I went inside the house before he could see them fall.