4. Halle
HALLE
Pulling into the local elementary school parking lot, I see Molly standing over by the door, already waiting for me. Tierney set this walk-through up for me with Rhett’s girlfriend, or whatever she is. If you ask Colt, she’s old news. And if you ask me, I’d say my brother is delusional.
I step out my car, and into the heat. Molly waves over to me with an overly-excited smile. “Ready for the tour, Halle?”
Oh, she’s one of those elementary teachers. Great.
“Hey! I’m so excited!” I feign a smile and walk over to her.
“I’m so excited you’re thinking about joining our school! Rhett told me that you guys all grew up together,” she says, beaming.
I’d be curious if Molly realizes how much older I am than Rhett, and how she would feel if she knew he was the annoying little kid who ran around me. Either way, we walk inside and instantly, my stomach twists. This is the first time I’ve stepped foot in a school since I lost the baby.
Molly immediately dives into talking the moment the doors swing shut behind us and we take off down the hall.
She points out everything as we pass—the art room, the library, where a corner has been turned into a huge reading fort, and the cafeteria, with all the snack and lunch schedules posted.
Outside, you can see the playground through the window.
I try to focus on everything she’s saying, but I can’t as we pass an open classroom.
It’s clearly kindergarten, based on their sizes—definitely under six.
A little girl with pigtails laughs loudly at a boy who’s sticking his tongue out, while another boy with dark wavy hair similar to mine builds a tower, face scrunched in concentration.
I freeze, and my hand flies to my stomach before I can stop it. I push down the bile rising in my throat and it tightens in response, eyes burning as I blink back tears.
“What is it?” Molly asks.
Push it the fuck back, Halle. You can do this.
“Are there usually kids here over the summer?” I ask.
Molly smiles, oblivious. “Yeah! Most schools only run a session in summer for camp, but here at Cedarbrook Elementary we run multiple sessions, turning the school into a full-time camp. For our older kids, we offer full-day programs with arts, science, and sports. The kids love it.”
“Oh…”
“You good?” Molly’s voice cuts through with concern.
“I’m fine.” I nod at her.
I push through the rest of the tour, but inside, I’m falling apart. The tiny chairs, colorful drawings, and giggles all mocking me.
As soon as she says we’re done, I say a quick goodbye to Molly and head back to my car. I barely make it before the tears start falling. I dial Aria at the stoplight, my hands shaking as I pull out of the parking lot.
She answers on the second ring. “Halle?”
“How do I make this stop? When do I get to the point where this starts hurting less? How do you do it…”
Aria sighs. “Yeah…I told Tee you weren’t ready.”
I sob into the phone. “There were kids everywhere. Little kids laughing and playing. And I–I can’t do it. I really thought I could go back this fall, but I fucking can’t. I can’t. I feel like someone just ripped out my heart.”
“Halle girl, slow down. I’m sorr—”
“This hurts so bad.” I’m full-on ugly crying now, barely seeing the road from my blurred vision.
“You aren’t going to heal overnight, my girl. But over time, it will hurt less. Maybe the school just isn’t in the cards for this fall?”
“Then what am I going to do?”
She chuckles. “You’re going to do what all of us Dawson’s do and figure it the fuck out.”
I pull into the driveway of my Grandma’s house and my stomach drops. My dad’s truck is parked right there.
“Aunt Aria…why is my dad’s truck in the driveway?” I wipe away tears, trying to make myself look less wrecked than I am.
There’s a beat of silence on the other end. “I’m so sorry. I forgot to mention they were coming for Ben’s party. I was going to tell you but it slipped my mind.”
Slipped her mind.
I let out a bitter laugh that cracks in the middle. “Are you kidding me right now? You forgot? I just spent the entire drive pouring my heart out to you and you ‘forgot’ to mention my parents are here?”
“Halle, I’m—”
I hang up on her, not willing to hear anything else as I brace myself for this shitstorm.
My hands are shaking so badly I almost toss my phone in my purse while I fix my face a little more.
I wipe under my eyes again, fix my face in the rearview mirror the best I can, and brace myself before walking inside.
Dad and my stepmom, Sloane, are already in the living room, actively putting things away and organizing for me. I’ve been putting it off for weeks, but I definitely don’t want them doing it.
There are cushions and picture frames scattered across the floor, every piece of furniture is at some awkward angle, and stacks of books crowd the hallway. I’ve never had a house that has looked this chaotic, and they know it.
They’re going to already think I’m a fucking wreck.
My dad turns, his face beaming as he makes eye contact. “Hey, kiddo! Aria told me that you went to see about a job at the local school!”
“Yeah…I did. Sorry. It must have slipped my mind that you were coming.”
He walks over, pulling me into a hug. I haven’t seen my dad since right after the miscarriage, and his scent fills me with a sense of comfort as he embraces me. “That’s good, baby girl! How was it?”
“I’m just so happy you guys are here!” I say, changing the subject.
“We are too. Though I don’t know if we’re looking at redecorating or if someone came in and ransacked the place,” he says, a smile tugging at his mouth.
“Can’t it be a bit of both?” I pull the bundle of extension cords off the couch to give them both a place to sit down.
“Y’all don’t really need that much of a home base anymore, with Sloane virtually retired.
You told me I could make it my own. It’s not finished though.
Aria and Matt needed way more help than I realized with The Bar. ”
Sloane laughs softly and pulls me into a hug. “It’s going to look so lovely when it’s all done. Better than your father and I could have done.”
Sloane sits down on the couch, and Dad points toward the armchair shoved halfway into the dining room. “That’s an interesting choice. Tell me that’s not staying there.”
“No promises,” I say sarcastically, and the two of us giggle before the three of us are all seated.
“So, Miss Tierney is throwing a surprise birthday party for Ben tomorrow—you know we can’t miss that. I’m sorry if you were a little surprised; I figured Aria would have already told you we were coming,” Dad says casually.
“We don’t have to stay here, sweetie, if it’s too much for you,” Sloane adds.
I shake my head. “No…you can stay here. It just caught me off guard.”
As angry as I am at the surprise, having a less-empty home for the weekend may be good.
“We brought you some lunch,” Sloane says, trying to shift the conversation, lifting a paper bag I didn’t even notice. “I know how you forget to eat when you get too busy.”
“That obvious?”
We clear space on the coffee table that’s currently buried under throw pillows, candles, and old photo albums. Sloane divvies out the food to all of us, and we begin to eat.
Dad makes jokes about my complete lack of spatial planning, Sloane asks about paint swatches, and I deflect everything with sarcasm.
Dad waits until I take a bite before he keeps his tone casual. “Zach called me the other day.”
I chew slowly, buying time. “Well then, I’m sure he told you I served him papers.”
Sloane’s hand finds mine across the table, warm and steady. “Are you doing okay, sweetheart?”
Dad watches me, eyes the same shade as mine, creased at the corners from years of worry I usually try to ignore.
I let out a long breath. “I know you think I should be broken … but honestly? I’m relieved.”
Dad’s jaw tightens. “I understand what you both went through was traumatic, but, Halle girl…running can not be your go-to in this. Don’t be like her.”
The words land like a slap. Her. My mother.
“You don’t know everything, Dad.”
I was married to Zach for almost eight years—college sweethearts.
He was the epitome of every girl’s dream.
He gave me everything I ever asked for in the beginning.
It was truly a whirlwind romance. But over the years, I felt myself shrinking to fit whatever version of a wife Zach began to need.
His career, his aspirations, all came before my own.
It wasn’t until after we lost the baby that I began to see how little I mattered in Zach’s life. How small I actually was in comparison to him.
I can’t have this conversation right now, though. Not when the wound from the miscarriage is still raw and the school ripped it wide open again.
“Dad…I stayed as long as I could. I can’t anymore.”
Sloane nods, listening the way she always does. Giving me the opportunity to be heard before any judgment. I love her for it. Still, I can see Dad turning something over in his head, the same way he does when he’s worried about one of us running headfirst into trouble.
Dad leans back. “I don’t want you making rash decisions in your grief. Your mother left without a care for anyone, and look how she ended up—still fucking miserable.”
I stare at the half-eaten sandwich, throat tight. “You think I’m running away without thinking about anyone else?”
“I think you’re trying to rebuild yourself so that you don’t have to hurt anymore,” he corrects. “But I also know what it looks like when someone leaves pieces of themselves behind and pretends it’s freedom. I don’t want that for you.”
I feel my throat tighten as tears threaten to spill from my eyes.
“I’m not running, Dad. I came home…Zach cheated on me with a girl named Melissa, at work.
Has been for almost a year now. He left me at that hospital by myself, and I will not stay with someone who doesn’t care.
As for the school, seeing those kids was far too soon.
I’m not ready to go back to all of that yet, and I don’t think this is a conversation I can have right now.
I’m making grandma’s house, my house—a place to call home.
I’m working at The Bar and giving myself time to figure out what I want, not what Zach wanted in a wife.
That’s not running from people who love me, it’s running to them. I am not her.”
For a second, the only sound is the old kitchen clock ticking on the wall. Then his face changes—jaw tightens, eyes flashing with that protective angry look I remember from when I was little and someone hurt my feelings.
“He what?” My dad’s voice drops. “He cheated on you? That son of a bitch. I’ll kill him. I swear to God, Halle. If I ever see that sorry excuse for a man again—”
“Jack,” Sloane says softly, but Dad’s not done.
“No. No, this is bullshit.” His free hand clenches into a fist on the table.
“You’re my daughter. He was supposed to take care of you.
He was supposed to be there. And instead he was off screwing around while you were—” He cuts himself off, breathing hard through his nose.
“Why the hell didn’t you tell me sooner? ”
“Because you never asked, Dad! You just compared me to Mom when I said I was leaving. Every single fucking time I fuck up, you say I’m just like her. That’s not fair to me!” I shout at him.
Dad stares at me, the protective rage shifting into guilt. He opens his mouth, then closes it again.
Sloane cuts in gently, placing her hand over Dad’s. “Jack, she just said this isn’t something she wants to talk about, and she is not Anna. Halle is going to make the best choices for her, and we are going to support that.”
Her tone brokers no room for argument.
“I’m not trying to hurt anyone, Dad. I’m trying to heal. There’s no salvaging that marriage.”
Dad exhales heavily, rubbing a hand down his face. “There’s no coming back from what he did. I just want to make sure you’re doing what’s best for you. I’m happy you’re back in Cedarbrook…but hell if it doesn’t hurt to see you like this. I’m sorry, kiddo.”
I don’t say anything.
Sloane smiles softly and keeps her hand over Dad’s, gently steering the conversation.
“We love you, and we want to be here for you. You don’t have to do this alone.
” She pauses, then adds, “I can give you the number for a great therapist in town, whenever you’re ready.
She does individual sessions. No pressure… just…when you want it.”
Dad nods, clearly relieved by the suggestion.
Sloane continues, shifting the mood with practiced ease. “And it wouldn’t hurt you to come spend some time at our new house. It’s turning into my little paradise, and I’ve got a wine fridge that’s dying to be broken in.”
I laugh, the tension cracking as a lone tear slips down my cheek.
Ignoring the comment about a therapist, I say, “Tempting on the wine, but I like the mess. It matches my brain right now.” Wiping the tear away I add, “Plus, I can raid Aunt Aria’s tequila stash.
Let me drink her dry before I start with the wine. ”
We talk longer after that—lighter things even when the tension lingers.
Like whether the original hardwood is salvageable in all parts of the house.
Sloane talks about the renovations for their little ranch home they bought in Linden.
My father has spent the last year doing renovations to make it into their perfect retirement home.
Eventually, the conversation drifts to Colt.
“How’s your brother doing?” Dad asks. “He’s been avoiding our calls like the plague.”
I shrug, keeping it vague. “He’s doing good—working hard. You know how he is.”
I leave out the part about his latest obsession. Rhett doesn’t need me adding fuel to that fire right now.
Sloane eventually stands, stretching. “I’m going to pull some fresh linens out of the closet and get the guest room set up for us.”
As soon as she disappears down the hall, Dad pulls me into a hug that’s tighter than usual. His voice is low against my hair.
“Sloane’s right. We are here for you,” he whispers. “Always have been and always will be. We love you.”
I squeeze him back, eyes stinging again.
Waiting until they both disappear down the hall, I pull out my phone and text Zach.
Me:
Don’t fucking talk to my family
Three dots appear immediately.
Zach:
I do what I want, remember?