Page 109 of Paper Hearts

I search his eyes, wondering if he’s telling me the truth. “Then what exactly did you do with them?”

His brow scrunches. “What?”

“Tell me everything you did with them. All of it.”

He nods and swallows hard. “Hazel… she gave me—”

I shove him, hard. “Shut up. Just stop talking.” I know what he’s going to say. She gave him a fucking blow job and that’s why Chandler broke up with her. “She was going to get married.”

Ender catches himself against the tractor and hangs his head, the weight of his admittance heavy. “I didn’t know what I was doing back then. I was fifteen and a hot older girl dropped to her knees—”

“Stop.” I hold my hand up in his face. “I don’t want to know.”

Placing his hands on his hips, Ender takes a careful breath. “Hads…” When he looks up, his face is contorted. “Baby, please. I stopped her.”

Baby. There’s that word again.“Do you want this, Hads, baby? Do you want me?”

Yes, I wanted him. He didn’t want me back. Tears roll down my cheeks. “Tell me something that’s not a lie.” I sit down on a hay bale, trying to control myself, but I have so much going through me I want to scream. Or vomit again.

“Tell you what, you stay here and talk to me…” He sits down across from me on another hay bale and his voice has that same drawn-out Southern drawl I know well. “I’ll tell you everything.”

“Fine.” I cross my arms over my chest, waiting. “Talk.”

He sucks in a breath, nodding, as if he’s preparing himself, and then he regards me. “I thought by leaving it’d be better for you,” Ender admits, his elbows resting on his knees.

He looks so goddamn sexy with his tie undone, hair messy and black slacks. I want to jump on him and beg him to fuck me again. Stupid. God, why’d I drink so much?

Ender lifts his eyes to mine. “It hurt to know that I let myself lie to you for so long. I should have told you about the stupid bet. But I didn’t know how to.”

“I feel like I don’t even know who you are. Like I never knew,” I mumble, hoping he hears me over the storm raging outside. Water drips through the holes in the roof and into a puddle between us.

“You do know me.” His voice comes out shattered, and his appearance isn’t any better. His hands are shaking. “You’re the only one who knows me.”

Am I? I haven’t seen him in years. I have no idea who holds his heart now, or who has in the last six years. “No, I don’t.” Shaking my head, I repeat, “I don’t know you. Because the guy I knew wouldn’t have left me.”

He frowns. “What do you want to hear?” he asks again. “I don’t know what else you want me to say. Other than I’m sorry.”

“You should be sorry,” I snap. “None of this is okay, Ender.” He flinches at my harsh words. “Years…years… I spent years wondering what it wasIdid wrong to make you leave, and then I find out this way! What about Eddie? She doesn’t even know you exist. You’re fucked up if you think I will just give up and forgive you!”

“Fucked up?” Ender shouts back at me, his voice louder than I’ve ever heard before. He stands, taking one step toward me, eyes dark and so angry. I flinch, unprepared for his harshness. “I can’t tell you how fucked up I really am. I don’t know what you want me to say to make it better, but if this is how it’s going to go, fuck this shit.” He takes a step to leave but pauses when I laugh. He turns and faces me. “I’m trying here and you’re going in circles over the same shit.”

Now we’re getting somewhere. We’re both angry. This we can work with. “You can’t make it better. That’s where you’re wrong in all this. I want you to be so fucking sorry that your lips can’t form the words. I want you to be sorry you missed the birth of your daughter and the first years of her life. Bethatsorry.”

“Goddamn it!” Growling out a rushed breath, he sends his fist through the side of the barn. The old wood buckles and splinters, cracking on impact with the force of his left-handed jab. Dust floats around. “I am. I am that fucking sorry!” he shouts. “I am.”

“Okay,” I whisper, actually feeling a little relieved I’m not the only one blowing up tonight. “Just tell me the truth. Why’d you walk away from me?”

He starts pacing the space in front of me. “You wanna know the fucking truth?”

I nod. “Yes.”

“I wasn’t good enough for you. And I was never going to be. It wasn’t the bet that held me back. It was me.” He shrugs, as if he has no excuses. “I didn’t think I could amount to anything, even if you did know the truth. At the time I couldn’t provide you with a goddamn thing. I could barely keep a place to live. So I left because I thought it was for the best. For you, Arya, Myles… everyone. I drove to the beach that night, listened to your messages, threw my phone in the ocean, and got as far away from Georgia as I could. A month later, I enlisted in the Navy.”

I nod, a little shocked at what he’s saying. He hasn’t mentioned Theo, but I know it has to do with him too.

“I’m not saying that so you’ll give me a chance.” His voice softens finally, and he sits back down across from me, grabbing a bottle I didn’t know he’d carried out here with him, but thankful he did. Score. I might get through this conversation with a little more liquid courage. He takes a drink and then hands it to me. “I’m saying that so you’ll understand. I couldn’t love you when I didn’t even know how to love myself.” His emotions are raw and obvious. It’s in the depth of his eyes and the crease in his brow. He’s looking at me again, longing for a redemption I won’t easily give. I can see him now, repeating words in his head, going over everything he wants to say, just as I have done so many times while writingPaper Hearts.

I try to be patient, but the silence is killing me.

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