"Take with you?"
"Yeah, McKenzie. Shit," he said roughly, dragging his hand through his now soaking wet hair. "My mom needs to really focus on getting better. She needs to see a psychiatrist regularly, and she needs more care than I can give her here. So we talked it over and decided it would be best for her to be near her parents in Montana."
"Your mom is selling her house and moving to Montana?" There were so many things about that sentence that seemed impossible to me. The idea that the Wallaces wouldn't be just down the street, that some other family would be living in their house, it made the world feel a little colder and unfamiliar, like I'd jumped dimensions or something.
"Kenz," he said, the tone of his voice now apologetic, "we're both moving to Montana."
The earth might as well have opened up and swallowed me whole. Everything that kept me alive stopped working. I couldn't breathe, I couldn't think, my heart felt like a broken engine, refusing to do its job, churning and breaking and crumbling all at once.
"Kenz," he said again, this time stepping toward me. I stepped back and he stopped, his head dropping, his gaze falling to the ground.
"Mr. White said you weren't teaching anymore. I ran here to see if you were all right. If your mom was all right." I stopped, the words stacking up in my throat, jammed behind the huge lump forming there, with rain now soaking through my clothes. "You're leaving?" I tried not to cry, but it was the only way the words could come out, strapped to sobs. "For how long? You'll come back when your mom's better?"
It took a moment before he raised his gaze to meet mine, but he said no words.
"You're not coming back?" What world was I living in? This couldn't be reality. Not my reality. "Hayes, if you need to go with your mom to make sure she's okay, go. I want your mom to be all right too. But that doesn't mean we have to be over. You're acting like this is the end for us."
"It has to be."
My mouth fell open. Tears escaped both my eyes, mixing with the rain already streaming down my face, and my feet took me backward, away from the dagger-like words he'd thrown at me.
"Kenz, listen-"
"Listen to what? Listen to you tell me that you're leaving and we're over? Just days ago we were planning the next year of our life together, and now you're just ending it?"
"My mom-"
"Is sick, I know. I love your mom, and I want her to be happy and well. And I love that you want to be there for her. I'd never hold that against you. But I don't understand how this all means we can't be together." My words were frantic and tripping out of my mouth almost on top of each other. The words couldn't keep up with my thoughts and all I was thinking was why why why.
Hayes took a fast step toward me, grasping my shoulders before I could get away. I wanted him to stay with me, to choose to be with me, but I didn't want him touching me just then. It felt too raw, as though his hands were carving into me.
"I love you, McKenzie. More than I could ever love anyone. But this, us, it isn't right. Healthy relationships aren't born from death, they don't blossom in the dark, and they don't flourish while being hidden."
"We weren't born from death," I practically spit at him.
He shook his head ever so slightly, his grasp on me still firm. "If Cory were alive, I never would have been with you. And I'm not saying I was only with you because he died, but dammit, McKenzie, that's how it feels right now."
"This isn't fair. You can't just make me fall in love with you and then let me go like this. It feels like you set a trap and I've fallen in, and you're just walking away, leaving me behind." The rain was still pummeling us, and if I hadn't had anger burning through me, I would have been cold. But I wasn't shaking from cold, I was shaking from rage and pain.
"I wish I could explain how untrue that is, how I'll never be able to leave you behind. I'll never be able to just let you go, McKenzie. But as stupid as it sounds, and clichéd as this is, I'm letting you go because I love you so much." His arms pulled me closer to him, and even though I didn't want to, I let him bring me in. "I'm going to Montana, and I have no idea how long I'll be there. This is not the time in your life when you're supposed to be worried about your boyfriend and his mother. You're supposed to be young, carefree, live life, and you're supposed to fall in love, a lot." He closed what space was left between us, my chest pressing up against his, rainwater running down both our faces. "I want you. I want you so badly, but it's the most selfish part of me that would keep you tethered to me in that way. The best part of me, the part that loves you and wants nothing but goodness for you, wants you to fall in love with someone else instead of me."
"There will never be anyone instead of you, Hayes. And up until ten minutes ago, that fact alone made me the luckiest person on the planet. But if you do this, if you push me away, it'll ruin me. There will never be anyone else, and that will eat away at me for the rest of my life."
He pressed his forehead against mine and my hands gripped the wet fabric of his t-shirt, trying to hold on to him for as long as I possibly could. When one of his hands cupped my cheek, I tried to keep my eyes down, knew that if I looked him in the eyes it would be my undoing.
"I love you," he whispered. His lips pressed against mine and it was the saddest kiss I'd ever experienced. It was love and good-bye and I'm sorry all wrapped together, and I wanted to pull away, to yell at him, to tell him he was an asshole for making me love him and then throw me away. But instead, I kissed him back. Because there was a tiny part of me that knew it would be our last, and I wouldn't have traded our last kiss for anything.
Ever since Hayes Wallace had been my first kiss, I'd believed, somewhere deep inside, he'd be my last. But I had no idea we'd burn out so quickly.
I cried against his mouth, unable to keep it at bay any longer. I pulled away, took one last look at the face I loved, turned, and ran away.
Chapter Twenty-Seven
McKenzie
There was something to be said for being more heartbroken over a breakup than the death of a boyfriend. It had been six days since Hayes told me he was leaving, four days since he actually left, and every time my heart beat, I was sure it would be its last. The first day was probably the worst. I ran home, barged into the house dripping wet and shivering, and spent an hour in a hot shower trying to bring myself back to life. My mom came home, heard me sobbing in the bathroom, and eventually managed to get me out, dressed in my pajamas, and eating ice cream. Again.
This time, though, she joined me in more than just solidarity because I'd broken the news to her that Mrs. Wallace was moving to Montana, which she hadn't known. So, she was losing her best friend to distance, and I was losing my boyfriend to … what? To responsible heartbreak? Romantic martyrdom? I was swinging from a wild emotional pendulum. One moment I hated him. Hated him. And the next, I remembered every single thing about him that I loved and felt guilty for even entertaining the terrible thoughts of hate.
Of course I didn't hate him.
In the middle of the night, when I couldn't sleep and my mind was just a jumble of thoughts of Hayes, there was always one thing I knew for sure: Hayes loved me.
I couldn't understand why he didn't give us enough credit, or even the opportunity to make our relationship work, but I tried really hard to focus on the fact that he thought he was doing what was best. Best for me and best for his mom. In those moments when I would get really angry with him, I'd think of Mrs. Wallace and I'd try to remember what he'd sacrificed for her. And that made me love him even more.
Tuesday I'd stayed home from school. I could hardly walk down the hall without crying, so school wasn't a good place for me. But on Wednesday I'd decided to at least try. I'd never actually gone to high school at the same time as Hayes, but being in there, knowing he wasn't within the walls, made the school feel strangely empty. By the time I got to history, I'd told Mr. White I wasn't feeling well and went home early. I figured I'd tortured myself enough for one day. But the next day, and the day after that, I'd managed to endure the whole day. And by the end of day Friday, I'd made it all eight hours without crying.
I thought about him all the time, wondered where he was, what he was doing, but I never broke down and tried to contact him. I knew that would have just been painful for both of us.
Friday afternoon, though, I did find myself somewhere I hadn't been in weeks.
"I know you're the last person I should be talking to this about, but in a weird way, I kind of feel like you already know." I sighed and pulled at a few blades of grass. "The thing is, I'll always love you, and I'll always love him. And I'm really thankful I was lucky enough to love you both and feel loved by both of you." I ran my fingers across the letters of his name engraved on his headstone, and I wondered who would make sure it was taken care of since his mother and brother had moved so far away. I noticed a little bit of dirt in the Y of Cory, so I dug it out and wiped it on my jeans. "I will never have a best friend like you," I whispered, trying not to cry anymore.
"Hey, we resent that."
I turned to see Holly and Becca walking up the tiny hill toward Cory's gravesite. I smiled at them, feeling so thankful they'd come looking for me.