“Can we talk?” I ask, reaching to untangle the layers of mynecklaces. I didn’t have to work at the gallery today, and everyone else was out of the house. I saw online that Hunter’s transfer waiver was approved and he’s eligible to play in the upcoming season. I was relieved because I don’t want him to have blown everything up just to ride the bench for a year. It’s admirable he’d risk his future for JJ, but it would’ve killed him to sit on the sidelines without being able to contribute.
I’ve spent the last few days asking myself why Bailey would keep what Hunter did a secret, and the thing I keep coming back to is the question he asked me while we were surfing the other day.
Are you happy with him?
And it hit me.
Even back then, Bailey could have come to me and told me exactly what Hunter said to him, and he still didn’t. He was angry at the world, but he didn’t want to hurt me or Hunter.
Bailey put my happiness over his—it’s all he’s ever done.
I can try to ignore it all I want, but my feelings for Bailey have never gone away like I hoped they would. I love Hunter, but he deserves someone who chooses him and his happiness over everything else.
I tried so damn hard to be that person, but at the end of the day, we don’t choose who we love.
“Yeah, give me a sec to clean this up,” he says, gathering his things together.
The rock in the bottom of my stomach settles as he collects the shavings and puts his board back in the shed. If he leaves it out, the deck will get too hot and he won’t be able to apply the layers of fresh wax.
Hunter rubs the back of his neck as he walks out, his emerald eyes immediately finding mine. The bags under his eyes are darker than I’ve seen them in a while, and I’m tempted to suggest he try the sleeping pills his doctor prescribed last year again, but he hated how they made him feel the next day.
“Should we walk?” he asks, and I nod, looking down at my feet for a moment. I don’t know how to do this. I don’t know if it’s wishful thinking to hope he’ll still be my best friend after this, but Hunt’s been there for every stage of my life. Breaking up with him feels like I’m about to cut off a limb.
I understand why he did it, and I don’t regret our relationship.
I loved him, and I still have love for him. I’m just notinlove with him.
“How have you been?” I ask, fidgeting with my hands as we walk toward the water. I’m stalling, but we’ve been together for nearly three years. It’s not like I can just rip off the Band-Aid and wash my hands of the relationship.
Even if I could, I wouldn’t want to erase all the happy times I’ve had with Hunter.
“It’s okay, Kaitlyn. We don’t have to do this. If it’s over, I’d rather you just say it,” he says, and I chew my lower lip, turning to face him.
“It’s over,” I confirm, feeling the gap between us grow. I don’t think our friendship will ever be what it once was, but I want to still be friends. “I’m sorry, Hunter. I wish this was something I could get past, but I can’t. I want you to be happy. I’m just going to go grab my things, and I’ll stay at my parents’ house until they get back.”
Hunter sniffles and looks up at the sky, avoiding my gaze. “I’m sorry too,” he says, his voice thick. I want to hug him, but I also know Hunt well enough to recognize it’s the last thing he wants right now.
I hesitate, wondering if I should just walk away now, but it feels unfinished. “Thank you,” I say, and Hunter shakes his head.
“Don’t thank me. I put my own happiness over my twin’s and yours. I was selfish, and you should hate me.”
“I’m upset and hurt by what you did, even ifI get why, but I don’t hate you. We all make mistakes, and what matters most is how we learn from them and move forward. You were a great first boyfriend, and I hope that we can be friends again.”
“I hope so too,” he says after I turn away to walk back to the house, feeling like a part of me will always belong to Hunter.
I went back to my parents’ house this afternoon to hide from the world in the sunroom I’ve converted into my art studio, and I disappeared into my head while I painted for hours. The sun went down a while ago, but it was like the block in my head finally opened once I stopped trying to force myself into what I thought I was supposed to want. I couldn’t stop painting, even if I wanted to.
The canvas looked exactly like the sky the other morning when I surfed with Bailey, and I think it’s my brain’s way of trying to tell me to go talk to him. I want to tell him I know what happened with Hunter, but he’s only just admitted he’ll stay.
I don’t want to scare Bailey by making him feel like I have any sort of expectations, because I have none, but I’m tired of only having part of the story.
Still, the last thing I want it to seem like is I’m hopping straight from one twin to the other. It’s more complicated than that, and all I’m trying to do is untangle the web of secrets the three of us have been caught in.
I sit on the ground, staring up at the canvas on my easel painted with streaks of orange and pink on a pale blue sky with rolling waves of turquoise below. It’s beautiful and reminds me of how every day is a fresh start. There’s so much in our lives we can’t control, but if there’s anything we can rely on, it’s that the sun will always rise again.
Checking my phone for the first time in hours, I scroll past the funny animal videos Mirabelle sent me, but my heart stops when I see Hunter’s name.
Hunter
