“I can’t be near you right now,” she volleys.
I grab the throw blanket from the end of the bed and lie down on the floor. “Tough luck. I’ll sleep on the floor, but I’m not leaving you alone.”
Hadley goes speechless at my move.
I pretend to get comfortable on the floor, then after a minute peer up by the edge of the bed. “Will you throw me a pillow? You know you want to.” I’m trying to see if a glimmer of relief is deep within her somewhere.
She just sits there frozen, aware that I’m serious. I won’t be moving an inch from here. I’m staying firm.
Slowly and unsure, she tosses me a pillow.
We both lie down on our spots in silence for a solid ten minutes, because that is what she needs right now.
Until I break our silence. “Deep down, you know it’s true. It wasn’t my secret to share.”
A new round of sniffling tears fills the room. “Maybe you’re right, but it doesn’t change the fact that I’m broken right now.”
I sit up to observe her. “I won’t let you break,” I softly confirm.
Hadley props herself up on her elbows to look down at me. “I don’t know what to think right now. But Connor…”
“Yeah?”
“Just hold me,” she sobs.
I’m lying next to her in a flash, curling her tightly to my body as I swipe away the tears with my thumb and stroke her messy tear-drenched hair. There is no place I would rather be.
“Did we ever have a chance to be something real?” she asks as she buries her face into my chest.
I continue to touch her in hopes of soothing her. “It’s not a chance. Wearesomething real,” I assure her.
“I’m so confused,” she mumbles into my shirt, and I can hear that her energy is nearly gone.
“I promise you, we’ll get through this. I’m not leaving you.”
Then I hold her all night, not sure what tomorrow may bring.
20
HADLEY
Numb.
That’s what I feel.
Not long ago, I woke up in a Vegas hotel room with no recollection of the events of the night before. This time, my body is in a similar state physically, but make no mistake, I remember every second from last night.
A ton a bricks didn’t hit me; they came crumbling down around me. It’s no wonder I struggle to gather energy to move from this bed. I attempt to stretch, but my hand pokes a firm body.
Connor.
I have two things to process; my dad who lied and my husband who lied. I’m not sure where to begin.
My eyes widen to take in the view of Connor perched on the edge of the bed with a mug in his hand. He must have been waiting for me to wake up, as he looks showered and dressed in a fresh t-shirt and jeans. His hair has this ruffled wave that screams he has an edgy side.
“Hi.” His greeting sounds so delicate.
I drag my body up to sitting and sigh. He offers me the mug of tea, but I indicate with my hand no. Instead, I opt to bring my knees to my chest to hold onto.
