“Daddy!” Matty hollers in my ear, and it feels like a betrayal. Bloody hell, his Dad couldn’t be bothered to have him checked out, but the little snot doesn’t really care about that.
Matty twists his body in my arms, throwing my balance out of whack enough that I have to stomp forward a few steps so my back doesn’t go out. Arms outstretched for Hunter’s chest, I move as close as I dare until Hunter can actually grab a hold of him. Letting go of my cargo, I do the only thing that makes sense to me at that point in time. I fish for his keys in my purse, snagging them after only a few seconds, thank God. It would totally suck that I would want to make a dramatic exit and it gets delayed by the sorry organizational state of my purse.
I can’t touch Hunter, not now, especially not now. I’m so mad, stupid tears are coming to my eyes and my dumb nose is starting to sting. I hate that, I hate that whenever I get too worked up emotionally, my body takes it as a signal to start leaking from my eyeballs. Seriously undermines my street cred of being a total badass.
I make sure Matty’s looking at me while babbling to his Dad about his hospital adventure, having totally forgotten what Hunter yelled about a few hours before. I’d be like that too, though, willing to forget all the painful words, the hurtful accusations if my Dad would hold me like he cared about me. It’s like Matty knows actions speak louder than words, and he’s using that factoid for all his worth.
I hand the keys to the little man, making sure I don’t touch one inch of Hunter’s shoulder. I don’t know what Aly is doing, not that I give a fuck. I hope they’ll be fucking happy together. I hope they drown in happinessand all that fucking money he’s going to get when his mom dies. Bastards, the whole lot of them.
I paste a smile on my face, but it doesn’t seem to fit, and keeps slipping off like a mask that refuses to stay put. I wave with a jerky movement of my wrist, and start walking away. I have to tell myself to keep walking when Matty starts screaming my name, or when Hunter tries to calm him down. I pretend he’s actually calming his kid down enough so he can yell out for me himself, to tell me to stop, to turn around, to run up to me and explain why he was hanging out with the slut instead of being with me and his son at the hospital.
He does none of these things, but I can’t help how my back tingles, or how my shoulders hunch up, like they’re getting ready for the sound of his boots hitting the pavement to catch up to me. All I hear is Aly’s laugh, high and full of mirth. Loud enough to alert everyone within a five mile radius that she got her way. That she won.
That Hunter chose her over me.
I blow out a quick breath, shoving hair behind my ears, then looking into my purse while I walk through the dusk-lit parking lot for my phone, until I realize again I don’t actually have it on me. Doesn’t matter, I can make the walk in forty minutes. Better walk fast.
Walking home from the hospital gives me time to think, no matter how hard I try to concentrate on my footsteps to distract me. Nothing can distract me now from what I just saw, from my thoughts filled with doubt.
What did I ever see in Hunter MacLaine? I’m alone with my thoughts as I make the walk home, still half-hoping he’s going to pull up beside me in his car and offer to drive me home. I shake my head, making the fantasy dissipate like smoke and force myself to look at the harsh reality of it all.
I’m all alone on a darkened street, sneakers pattering on the pavement, the orange glow of streetlights makes it look like the sidewalk is sinister where shadows hold dangerous individuals with hockey masks or chainsaws. I mean they could, and I end up picking up my pace, swallowing past the pain in my throat, refusing to cry or think too much on the hurt until I’m safe in my bed.
I’m good at that – delaying the pain enough that I can function and let myself cry until hours later.
God, but he made me love him. I know I can’t be, statistically speaking, the only female on the planet that this has ever happened to. But Jesus, I was so careful. I knew, I knew this was going to happen. I got too attached, with the first fucking man who ever showed me a little bit of attention. I’m pathetic, and so, so ashamed.
I run the rest of the way to my apartment. I take the stairs to my place, broken sounds escaping my mouth even while I cover it with both hands as I run up flight after flight. I won’t be able to hold it in, the pain, the ache in my chest, the humiliation.
My eyes squeeze shut as I get to my door, and the tears fall. I take hoarse breaths, like I’m starving for air, and that pain in my chest, that emptiness, that awful tearing there is awful enough that I never ever want to feel it again.