“And? You still told me how lonely it was for you.”
I rub a hand over my jaw, fighting a smile. “Do you always have to be right?”
She laughs again, the sound looping between us like it used to when she was a kid trailing behind me everywhere. Then her tone softens. “She’s just… you know Hailey. She’ll never admit if she’s lonely; she’ll just hole up in her apartment and be sad.”
That lands. I stare at the scribbles on the whiteboard, the line that still saysInspection at two, pretending it takes all my focus. “She’s fine, Mads.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I helped her move in. Place is nice. Secure building, good neighborhood. She’ll be okay.”
“Cole.”
Her voice is quieter now, the way it gets when she’s not teasing—when she means something. “Just do me the favor. Please?”
I sink into the rickety office chair. I lean back, staring out the trailer window. “Yeah,” I say finally. “I’ll look in on her.”
“Promise?”
“You already got it once, you want it notarized?”
She squeals like she’s five again. “Knew it. You’re secretly a softie.”
“Only for you, kid. Look.” I grab a scrap of paper and a pen. “I’m even writing it down. Check on Hailey.” I say the words aloud as I write them.
“Thank you.” There’s a rustle, a muffled curse, and then her voice again. “Okay, gotta go. My oven mitts are literally on fire.”
“Jesus Christ, Mads?—”
Click.
Sometimes I worry about the man that ends up with Maddie. I’m not sure I know a man brave enough to take her on. I glance at the scribbled note and drag a hand down my face.
Later,I tell myself.I’ll check on her later.
By the time I get home, the sun has sunk below the mountains, leaving the bitter cold biting through everything. I toss my tool belt onto the bench by the door, toe off my boots, and step into the quiet.
I crack open a beer, light the fire, and drop into the leather chair by the fireplace. The flames snap, throwing a pulse of orange light across the room. I should be doing invoices. Or zoning out to SportsCenter. Anything but sitting here thinking about a woman I have no business thinking about.
One beer becomes two. I tell myself it’s just because it’s Friday, because the job’s ahead of schedule, because I deserve it. But I know the truth. I’m trying to drown the quiet before it talks back. Just like I do every year around this time.
What’s that phrase again? Bah humbug?
I take a pull and stare at the fire until the edges blur.
When Hailey knew me, I was a mess. Nineteen, pissed at the world, running from everything and nothing. I didn’t have a bad childhood, I was just young, dumb, and chose the shittiest group of friends. The exact ragtag group your parents warned you about getting involved with. She was just Maddie’s friend then, always hanging around the house.
I ran from that small town like it was on fire. Took the first construction gig that didn’t care about background checks. I slept in my truck and ate vending machine dinners. I worked my way up, poured every ounce of myself into building something from the ground up. And when I finally had it, my company, my house, my life, I let a woman walk in and tear it all down anyway.
Jess.
Even thinking her name tastes bitter. She was supposed to be it. The one who made all the years of grinding worth it. And then one day she looked at me like I was a stranger. Said she didn’t love me anymore. Packed her things in silence. I never even got a real explanation, just the echo of a door closing and a ring sitting on the dresser.
Maddie told me I should forgive her, that forgiveness would help me heal. That love’s still worth trying for. I told her I’d rather work myself into the ground than risk that kind of pain again. But here I am, thinking about Hailey Simpson.
I scrub a hand over my face, then grab my phone off the table. I need to check in, I promised Maddie I would. My thumb hovers over the screen.
Instead, I picture her curled up on some couch, wearing that oversized sweatshirt again, hair up in that messy bun. I imagine her voice soft from sleep, telling me how she misses the snow back home. How she’s getting by.
