Page 52 of Finding Hayes
“So, the apology is only for Beefcake, huh?”
She ignored the question and reached for the envelope beside her. “You hate writing. How many essays did I have to write for you in middle school and high school?”
“I still hate it. But I wrote to you. It’s probably a bunch of chicken scratch, but I wanted you to know that I wrote you. That I was surprised you left without saying goodbye. That I missed you.” I cleared my throat. I didn’t like talking about this kind of shit. But everything had always been different with Savannah.
“I didn’t leave without saying goodbye, Hayes. You just weren’t home when I came over.” She shrugged. “But I called.And I texted.”
“I never got the messages, Sav. And then you just blocked me? That was fucked up.”
She pushed to her feet and stormed toward me. “That was not fucked up. You are the one who fucked up. You are the reason I blocked you. You are the reason I didn’t stay in touch.”
“Fine. Just read the fucking letter. We can’t pretend to be married with you hating me. We’re supposed to be newlyweds.”
“I can be a damn good actress when I need to be.” She walked back to the bed and tore open the envelope.
“Yeah. Apparently, you’ve always been a good actress. You can turn it on and off whenever the fuck you want to.”
“Takes one to know one,” she said.
And when she pulled the letter out of the envelope, I turned for the door.
Drudging up the past wasn’t something I wanted to do.
But it was the only way we could move forward.
fourteen
. . .
Savannah
He left the room,and I was grateful that he was gone. I glanced at the envelope again and recognized the address.
My mother’s address in the city.
It was the apartment she’d moved into with her lover.
My teacher.
Why would she have returned the letters to Hayes?
Probably because it was months before I’d agreed to see her after we’d moved. We’d had a horrible fight that day my father and I had packed up the car and left. I’d told her that she’d ruined everything. She’d broken my father’s heart. She’d made me the laughingstock at my high school. Everyone in town knew what they’d done.
So, we hadn’t been on the best of terms back then.
Not that things were perfect today, but we were better.
Civil.
Sometimes friendly.
I unfolded the notebook paper, and even his handwriting was strangely comforting to me.
Familiar.
Hayes Woodson had always felt like my home.
Until my home was shattered, and he’d turned on me like everyone else. I swiped at the tear rolling down my cheek and sucked in a deep breath.
