heading home. He typed in Hannah’s name, real name, and couldn’t believe the number of hits he got, on everything from The New York Times to Reddit. The first articles only mentioned her in passing, but as the case got more attention, she became a central figure in the drama.
Central and sympathetic. Hannah wasn’t interviewed in any of the articles, but plenty of other Green Spaces employees and volunteers had given statements, and they all showed Hannah as a victim of her charismatic ex, bullied and belittled by a man who had become increasingly obsessed with crossing any lines and cutting any corners to steal the spotlight for himself.
But that didn’t stop people from vilifying Hannah on social media. Chad couldn’t believe the amount of hatred directed at her over her role in the stunt, despite the factual press coverage. As usual, the mob mentality rose up and united against someone who made an easy scapegoat. Her rat bastard of an ex had won over plenty of people who were eager to shift the blame off of him and onto her. Chad bristled and felt his protective instincts kicking up despite feeling raw about the fact that she hid so much from him.
He put his phone down on the seat beside him and gazed across the twilight fields. How much had Hannah endured, and how was she able to do it while trying to keep Aria safe? Chad wasn’t sure how much of a life Hannah had left behind, but walking away from everything she knew couldn’t have been easy. It sort of explained why she was reluctant to tell him about it.
He shook his head. No, whether she had reasons or not, it still hurt that she’d kept the truth from him. They’d become close. Hell, they’d been lovers, and she should’ve known she could trust him. He’d trusted her, been more open with her than he could ever remember being with any woman before. Maybe that was why it hurt so much that the trust hadn’t been reciprocated. He’d thought they were building up to something special, but he’d been wrong. So, so wrong.
Didn’t matter now, though. The damage was done, and so was their façade of a relationship. Now he was on his own.
Even though he hated to admit it, deep down he still wished she was going to be by his side.
17
The next morning Chad sat at his small kitchen table with his laptop and phone ready to go next to his coffee and bowl of oatmeal. After listening to Hannah preach about the importance of connecting, he wasn’t about to let the final week before the election go by without updating all of his social media accounts. He’d never done so on his own before, but he was sure he had more than enough of his own photos to help carry him through until the big day.
The truth was he hadn’t been on top of the accounts when Hannah was around. There was no need to. She was so good at what she did that he trusted her vision completely. Sometimes she’d show him a photo after she’d edited it, or read to him a caption she was working on, but he knew that anything she planned was bound to show him in the best, most effective light. He liked how the little snippets she shared looked and sounded; he didn’t need to see everything in action.
Now, finally going over his accounts in all of their glory, he could see the big picture of what Hannah had been doing for him. Each platform showed off different sides of him and highlighted specific strengths in his character. On Instagram, Chad was hardworking but fun. There were shots of him around the ranch doing chores, and he couldn’t help but notice that Hannah always managed to make him look fit as hell in them. He glanced down at his bicep to see if it was actually as big as it looked in the photo of him hoisting a hale bale over his head. She interspersed the work content with photos of the two of them as well as him and Aria, including the video of them on the carousel. Chad watched it again and found himself smiling at the adorable little girl. He ignored the melancholy feelings that crept in as he listened to her tinkling laughter, wondering if he’d ever hear it again.
Who knew you could miss a four-year-old so much?
Chad scrolled all the way back