“Jesus Christ. That’s one hell of a coincidence.” He shakes his head in disbelief, trying to come to terms with what I’ve told him. He breathes out heavily. “I’m not going to sit here and pretend to like the guy, because I don’t… but I can understand why he didn’t tell you, the same reason I didn’t tell you about the money, and the gambling, the same reason you waited four years to tell me… you were scared.”
I was scared. In fact, I was terrified. Terrified that if I came out and said anything that he would come back.
Remember, I know where you live now, I won’t hesitate to come back here for round two.
There’s a frantic pounding on the front door. “Hayley? Hayley are you in there? Please, open the door, baby, I need to talk to you, to explain.”
Kyle.
Chapter 38
Kyle
I jump out of the car outside her father’s house and race up the driveway.
“Hayley? Hayley are you in there? Please, open the door, baby, I need to talk to you, to explain,” I shout, practically banging down the door.
The light in the living room is on so I know someone’s home.
“Hayley, please, baby, I’m begging you, just let me explain, please,” I beg.
The door swings open and her father stands there, his face hard and serious, his eyes red as if he’s been crying. “She’s not here.”
“Mr Roberts, I know you hate me, but I love your daughter and I need to talk to her.”
“She’s not here,” he repeats slowly.
My eyes flick to the sideboard in the hallway, the purse that Hayley brought with her to the casino tonight lying on top. “Then what is her purse doing behind you?”
He exhales deeply. “She doesn’t want to see you, Kyle, so I suggest you leave.”
I sigh heavily in defeat. “Then will you give her a message?” I ask.
His face doesn’t change, he just stands in the doorway with a vacant expression.
“Can you please tell her that I’m sorry, that I fucked up, that I will do anything I can to make it right. Tell her that I love her, more than anything in this world and that I need her to understand why I did it.” My voice cracks.
I hear a sob from the living room.
Hayley.
“Hayley? Baby, I love you. Please let me explain, I’m begging you.”
She steps out from the doorway behind her father, she looks as bad as I feel. Her hair is matted and wild, her eyes are puffy and bloodshot, dark circles have formed under her eyes. Her beautiful dress from tonight, crumpled and creased.
“Please just go, Kyle.” Her voice is low and worn out, like she’s too tired to speak.
I can’t bear to see her like this.
I did this to her.
Me.
“Hayley…” I whisper in a plea.
“Kyle, if you really love me, then leave me alone.”
I stand there, unable to move.
She turns and heads back into the living room, just as her father closes the door on me.
I look up at the sky, fighting back the tears that burn in my eyes.
She looked so sad.
So deflated.
So broken.
I did that to her.
I broke her.
I slam my palm into the side of the house I frustration, exhaling slowly.
I turn back towards my car. When I reach for my door, I take one last look at her house, her silhouette at the living room window, watching me. When she sees that I’ve spotted her, she backs away, disappearing further into the house.
My phone buzzes in my pocket. It’s a text from Gwen.
She’s not here, Aaron hasn’t heard from her either. Any luck?
I text back.
She’s at her dad’s, she doesn’t want to see me.
Before she can reply, I switch off my phone and shove it back inside my pocket.
I climb into my car and rest my head forward on the steering wheel.
I’ve lost her.
I’ve lost the only person I’ve ever truly loved.
She hates me.
I can’t blame her, I hate me.
I hurt her, like I always knew I would.I hurt her, like I was always afraid I would.
∞∞∞
I arrive back in my apartment, my dad is long gone.
I throw my keys onto the kitchen counter and pull a bottle of whiskey out of the cupboard before traipsing across to the couch. I slump into the chair, drinking directly from the bottle. I grit my teeth through the sharp burn of the liquid as it makes its way down my throat.
I sit staring at the blank screen of the TV, as I neck the entire bottle of Jack.
The silence is deafening.
The large empty space is suffocating, it feels like the walls are closing in on me.
An overwhelming feeling of unease and anxiety slowly rises its way up inside me, it’s as if I'm trapped in a glass box and the water level is rising with no way of escape.
My vision begins to blur.
Is it the drink or the tears that are now leaking from my eyes, soaking my shirt and my pants?
I think it’s both.
I stumble my way back into the kitchen to grab another bottle, only there’s none anywhere. I check every place I can think of to no avail. I slam the cupboard doors shut as hard as I can, one of them so hard it comes off its hinges. I pick it up and smash it against the countertop, little pieces of wood splintering across the kitchen floor. I turn to the crockery and the glasses that lie on the draining board, they too get smashed.
Before I know it, I’m sat on the floor, leaning against the front of the fridge in my kitchen, the entire floor around me is littered with broken glass, splintered pieces of wood and pottery, it looks as if a shrapnel bomb has gone off.
I wish it had.
I pull my knees up under my chin and cry like a baby.
I cry for the mother that I never knew, the one that was stolen from me when I was three months old. I cry for
