consisted of him rambling and calling me a lowlife piece of shit. He was right. I couldn’t argue with him about that. Every time he hung up on me and then called back fifteen minutes later to yell some more, the least I could do was answer the phone and let him get some of it out. My cell finally stopped ringing a little before six, his time.
I’d waited another hour to call Hazel, but she didn’t answer. By late afternoon, I’d hit redial at least fifty times and was starting to think the worst. Desperate to know she was okay, I even tried Brady again. But he didn’t pick up either. Entirely freaked out on the other side of the country, I was considering calling the police and having them check in on Hazel. But then I remembered she’d once used my phone to call her friend Felicity, so I searched my call history and dialed her instead.
After explaining who I was and giving her a quick rundown, I begged Felicity to go over and check on Hazel. The hour it took for her to call me back was sixty of the worst minutes of my life. The crazy shit running through my head was unimaginable. But Felicity eventually called, and she assured me Hazel was physically fine. While I was relieved, I didn’t understand why she wouldn’t have picked up the phone and told me that herself.
Granted, I was the one who’d suggested we have no contact when she went back home, but this was an emergency. It didn’t make sense. I couldn’t get Felicity to tell me much other than Brady had found out, and Hazel didn’t want to talk to anyone right now.
It had killed me to not hear Hazel’s voice myself, but I’d given it two days before trying to call her again. But six days had passed now since she flew back home, and I still couldn’t get her to pick up. I’d texted, called, and even tried sending her messages on social media. Last night, on Christmas Eve, I was certain it would be the day she’d finally pick up. When she didn’t, I couldn’t stop myself from calling Felicity a second time. While I couldn’t get her to tell me much more than the first time I called, she did shed some light on why Hazel was ignoring me. Fucking Brady had told her about the woman he’d slept with, along with the fact that I’d known about it.
This morning, I’d thought about flying to Connecticut. But then my mother had knocked on my door without my father. She sat me down, asking what was going on and if I was alright. And I’d spilled my guts to her, telling her the entire crazy story—from how Hazel and I met, to our road trip, to the shock of walking into a bar in New York City expecting to see my old pal Brady, only to find out that my Maddie wasn’t my Maddie at all. She was my buddy’s Hazel.
My mom could be a busybody, but today she was there when I needed her. She’d even given me some good advice, had me looking at things from a woman’s perspective. If it weren’t for her talking me down, I’d probably be on a plane on my way to force Hazel to talk to me before she was ready.
I sat down at the table and blew out an audible breath.
“I know, sweetheart.” My mother patted my hand. “She’ll come around. You just need to give her a little bit of time. I saw the way she looked at you. It’s not over. Right now, she’s confused and feels betrayed by both you and Brady.”
“I thought this was supposed to be a pep talk to make me feel better.”
“It is. But that doesn’t mean we ignore the part of the truth that isn’t pretty. I understand that you were in a tough situation, and I understand your reasons for not wanting to tell Hazel about Brady. You wanted Hazel to pick you because she wants to be with you, not because she didn’t want to be with Brady after she found out he’d cheated. I get it. I really do. But that doesn’t change the fact that you kept something from her. From everything you’ve told me, she was honest with you right from the start—even when she told you she wasn’t sure if things with her and Brady were over when she went