It’s better this way.
He’s better without you.
He’s…safe.
Before he could turn around to see me, I spun on my heels.
And I left.
For good that time.
CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE
hayden
Sierra wasn’t moving, completely frozen in place in the middle of the sidewalk.
“Sierra?” I called her name again before returning back to her, placing a hand on her shoulder.
She jumped, her panic-filled gaze darting to mine.
My stomach twisted in knots, nausea churning in my gut over all the scenarios of why she wasn’t responding to me playing in my head. “Is everything okay?”
Her mouth gaped and her brows raised, her eyes going blank. “I-I came back,” she stumbled over her words.
I furrowed my brow. “What? You came back?”
She nodded, tears welling in her eyes. “That fall. The next semester after we—” She shook her head like she was clearing a memory. “After the last court date when my dad got sentenced.”
Maybe I was imagining things. “You came back.”
“Yes.” Her voice shrunk.
“Y-you. You didn’t reach out. I had no idea.” My chest constricted with this new information, a burning sensation rising in my throat.
“I know. I wanted to come back to surprise you.” She hung her head, avoiding my gaze. “I saw you.”
I flinched, tripping over my feet as I took a few steps backward, needing to create some space between us. I had so many questions.
Why didn’t you come talk to me?
Did I not mean enough to you?
Was it something I did?
“You were with a girl. I-I thought you had moved on, that you were better without me. You looked happy. Safe.” Sierra pulled her lip between her teeth, sadness creeping into her gaze.
She always had been the girl with the sad eyes.
“You deserved someone better than me, Hayes. Leaving was the only way I could keep you safe.”
My fists clenched at my sides, and I was sure if I pressed my nails into my palms any harder, they would bleed. But that was the irony of it all, wasn’t it?
A wave of emotions—disbelief, betrayal, grief for what could have been—washed over me.
“That wasn’t your decision to make!” I yelled, louder than I had intended. Her body recoiled, and guilt sank into my chest. Yelling at her made me no better than the person I was trying to protect her from. I lowered my voice, but hurt still interlaced in my tone. “You should have told me.”
Her response came out small, nothing like the Sierra I’d seen the past few months. Dejected almost. “I know. I’m sorry.”
