my fault.
A stitch cramps my side, and I gasp for breath but the momentary pain feels good. It’s something I can control. Maybe I’ll just keep running and never stop. Like Forrest Gump. Across the state, across the country and then I’ll turn around and do the whole thing again. I’m not really looking where I’m going until I slam into someone. I stumble and fall to my knees.
A gentle hand is on my arm. It’s an older gentleman with a kind smile. He helps me to my feet.
“Are you all right?” His voice is firm but raspy. His face is weathered and a fishing hat hides his eyes. Crumbs are entrenched in his mustache.
“I’m fine.” My voice shakes. “Thanks.”
I stumble away and lean against a wooden bench. My eyes flutter shut and I breathe deeply. What is going on with me? I’ve been in control for almost a year. I’ve avoided my family because they always lecture me about facing the past. What most of them don’t understand is that I don’t want to deal with it, and I shoved that part of my life away in a box in a deep corner of my heart, like I did the memories and pictures in the back of my closet. Even though those memories stay with me every day, every second, under the surface. I’ve moved on the best I can.
Noah watches from his car parked on the other side of the road, so I walk. My feet stumble and feel like wooden blocks, but I move forward, one step and a time, heading home.
I’ll get there, eventually.
I fumble with the lock at my grandfather’s cabin when someone taps my shoulder.
I turn and can’t see anyone or react before a fist lands on my jaw, and I fall against the front door.
“What the hell?” I crouch in a fighting stance, ready to defend myself, when I see Noah. All fight leaves, and slowly, I stand straight. I deserved that. He told me to leave and never come back.
He folds his arms and everything about him is strung tight and full of rage. It ripples in his biceps as he clenches and unclenches his fists, ready to punch me again. It floats in the furious haze that simmers in his eyes. It shows in the color that tinges his cheeks.
I sigh. “What do you want?”
“I gave you a choice last year. Be there for my sister or stay the hell away from her.” His voice is sandpaper. “She’s had a shitty year and doesn’t need you back in her life.”
“I ran away for all the wrong reasons, but I’m back now. She can’t hide out in the restaurant forever.”
A muscle jumps in his jaw as he grinds his teeth. “Don’t you dare tell me about her. I’ve made sure she’s not stuck there all the time.”
I jerk my head. “What’s that supposed to mean?” The truth lies in his eyes. He’s been behind the scenes of Haley’s life, controlling what she does. I think of Tate. Her casual boyfriend who probably is the one to make sure she’s not stuck inside. “Does Haley know?”
“What?” he asks.
“That you’re messing with her?”
He steps closer. “You don’t have the right to question me or even be here. Why don’t you run away again? No one wants you here.”
I sigh in defeat. He’s right. All the confidence and peace from the past couple hours slips away. “I’m going to take care of it. I’m going to tell her the truth and apologize.”
He steps so we’re nose to nose. “You get one chance. I want you out of her life by the end of the week. If you hurt her, I’ll chase you down and kick your ass.”
I nod. “Got it.”
He storms away. My hands shake as I unlock the door and then slip inside. For the first time it hits me hard how much I hurt Haley when I left. Noah’s always been protective, but not like this. From what he says, he’s been pulling strings behind the scenes without her knowing. This confirms what I’ve begun to suspect. It just might be that Haley needs saving, too.
I pull out my phone and send her a text.
Me: hey, you there?
I wait a few minutes before I get a response back.
Haley: yeah
My fingers pause and for the first time in a while I decide to be truthful.
Me: I’m sorry. For everything. For running last year.
A few minutes go by before she responds.
Haley: Why now?
Me: I need