“I thought you broke up six months ago?” I asked, cringing at the next picture of a flexed bicep, veins bulging. There was no way this guy was natural. He looked like a walking advertisement for steroids. Hazel had really dated this guy? I mean, I hadn’t spent too much time considering her ex-boyfriend, but this wasn’t what I had been expecting. Maybe a class clown type. Someone goofy, who didn’t take life too seriously. Notthisguy.
Her lip curled up. “Again, don’t judge me. A clean break is hard after being with someone for so long. Paul invited me to his friend Callum’s house party, and I was bored and alone on a Saturday night.”
I made a mental note to invite Hazel along on any future weekend plans, even though my own social roster was virtually blank.
“Why’d you break up?” I asked.
She sat forward, tugging the throw pillow from behind her back and placing it in her lap. “He was a touch on the manipulative side, although I didn’t realize it for a while, andverycodependent. As someone who spent a lot of time alone or being ignored by guys all through high school, it was kind of nice, at first.” Her admission made my heart sink. I couldn’t imagine ignoring someone like Hazel. She was larger than life.
“Anyway, the honeymoon period was short-lived, but it was my first serious relationship. I didn’t know any better. When we started to fight constantly, I thought it was just normal growing pains.” She sucked in a breath before continuing. “When Gran got sick a couple of years ago, she wanted to come out here, be closer to Lake Michigan. She always liked how rural it was. We found her a nice assisted-living place—way out of budget, but I made do. Paul came with me, I didn’t even have to ask him to. And despite all our fighting, it was nice to have his support. My grandma is—” The word caught in her throat, and I fought the urge to reach out and touch her arm. “Wasmy only family. It had always been just the two of us. Paul made me feel less lonely. But he hated when I went out without him, or tried to make friends, so my world was basically only him.”
That made my blood simmer. I loathed guys like that. A classic emotional manipulator. I had read about enough of them while doing my little armchair investigations. Hazel didn’t deserve that. She walked through life in a way I’d never be confident enough to do. To think about someone trying to rein her in made me physically ill.
My throat burned with follow-up questions. Was high school hard for her? What had she and Paul fought about? What was her grandma like? Why was she Hazel’s only family? But none of those were related to the investigation at hand. I could see the hurt etched on Hazel’s face, so I propelled forward instead.
“And Paul knows where you live now?” I asked.
She nodded. “He’s been here before, too. Used to show up drunk every so often and throw shit at my window to get my attention.”
My spine stiffened. “What? Hazel, are you serious?”
She rolled her eyes as if my concern was over the top. “He hasn’t shown up in months, okay?”
I let out a sigh. “Okay, but I still hate that. You definitely can’t be here by yourself.”
She waved off my very valid point. “Like I said, this was months ago. When we first broke up. I haven’t seen him since the night of that party you found a picture of.” She chewed on her lip. “Aside from my grandma’s funeral, that is. I reached out to him. I felt guilty not inviting him, since he’d always been so good to her.” She shook her head. “It was a mistake. He tried to use my grief and vulnerability against me. Made a pathetic attempt to try and get me to go home with him. I got mad and told him to leave. He blocked me after that. I should never have invited him, I know that. But I-I really didn’t want to be alone that day.” The last words came out in a choked whisper.
My heart plummeted to the ground. “Were you alone?”
She offered me an encouraging smile that didn’t bring me much comfort. “Some of her friends came. Back from Detroit, and from the nursing home. An old neighbor was there, too. I hadn’t really told anyone else, though.”
“What about your friend. Zoe?”
“She was out of town when it happened.” Her voice was quiet. I hardly recognized it. This time I didn’t resist the urge to reach out and squeeze her shoulder.
“You were close to your grandma, then?” I asked after a minute. It seemed like a stupidly obvious question. Vermont had been her grandmother’s, and she was clearly distraught about losing him. I barely knew my grandparents myself, so it was hard for me to picture. My dad’s parents had passed away when I was still young, and my mom’s lived in Arizona. They sent cards with checks every birthday, and had last visited half a decade ago. Nice people, but not family-oriented. Likely why my mom had always been desperate for a close family of her own.
“She raised me,” Hazel said, further spearing my chest. “My mom…she was never in the picture. Not really.”
Shit. I felt like an ass for taking this long to ask her more about herself.
“And your dad?” I asked.
“Not even sure who he is.” She shrugged like that was fine. Like that answer had no effect on her. I ached to ask her more, but the way she brushed off the question made me feel like I had no right to. Like I had to earn that piece of her.
A loud buzzing from the door saved us both from the silence and Hazel sprang to her feet. She stepped over a book that lay face down on the carpet and pressed a button before yanking open her front door. After a few seconds, a teenage boy materialized and handed her a plastic bag that looked like it must weigh close to twenty pounds. She passed him some cash before shutting the door with her foot and holding up the bounty. “Hope you’re hungry.”
She set the food down on one of the coffee tables and started taking out each box.
“Want me to get plates?” I offered, poised to stand.
“Don’t worry about it.” She tossed me chopsticks.
“An army couldn’t finish all this food,” I said, eyeing everything.
“I like leftovers,” she said. “Help yourself. There’s sesame tofu, Mongolian beef, orange chicken, fried rice—I basically got one of everything, because I didn’t know what you liked.”
“Looks good,” I said, taking one of the containers and eyeing it. I desperately longed for an actual plate to scoop my portion onto. Were we really about to dive into the same boxes with our utensils? Seemed oddly intimate. Part of me wanted to ask if she had a clean bill of health, but I stuffed the question down deep inside. Ruby and Regan were always telling me I was too uptight. Icouldeat Chinese food out of a shared carton, damnit.
