Page 96 of The Worst Kind of Promise
Irritation knifes through me. “Fuck. I don’t know, dude! I don’t know how to fix any of this—how to fixus. Your sister is a fucking wreck right now. She’s never going to forgive herself for what she did to you. She never wanted to hide this from you for this long. She was trying to protect you, and she went about it the wrong way, but you have no idea how much she’s been torturing herself over this.”
Hayes refuses to look at me, features pinched in painful contemplation, his own internal struggle coming to light in sporadic waves. I know Hayes said a lot of terrible shit that he can’t take back, but I don’t think he meant all of it. He has a big heart, just like his sister. This is tearing him up inside.
He doesn’t have a snarky comeback or outburst of rage. He doesn’t grip his stick tighter and resume his pitiful shooting. All he does is stare ahead into nothing, dissociating, maybe digesting my words to some degree.
It’s almost worse to see him like this…drained of the anger that once fueled him, now neck-deep in the fallout of the fight, struggling to take in fresh air—struggling for the tiniest sliver of peace amongst a cyclone of chaos.
I don’t know if it’s a good idea or not, but I step just a foot closer to him. “I know you know what it feels like to keep secrets to protect someone. Faye…she loves you so much. It was eating her alive not telling you the reason why she came for the summer.”
Another step.
“And this thing between us…it’s not ideal for everyone, no. But I’ve loved her for four years, Hayes. Four. And I’m going to love her forever, no matter what happens with our relationship. Faye means the world to me, just like I know she does to you. All I want for her is to be happy, but you know she puts your happiness before her own,” I mumble softly.
Hayes’ stick clatters to the ground, sounding like an exploding landmine in my ears, and when he finally turns to face me, there’s a deluge of tears in his eyes. I’ve never seen him cry. Ever. It’s fucking heartbreaking. I’m part of the reason he’s crying. I did all of this to him, to my own friend.
My own tears singe the backs of my eyes, and it feels like my lungs are shriveling up. “I’m so sorry, Hayes. I’m so sorry for not telling you.”
I could apologize to him a thousand times over, and it would never be enough. Hayes had every right to know about me and Faye. Keeping it from him was disrespectful, and to make matters worse, when the truth eventually surfaced, betrayal clobbered him not once, but twice. If we’d just told him in the beginning, maybe there was a chance he would’ve understood. But we didn’t even give him the benefit of the doubt.
A burr of despair lodges itself beneath my ribs, inches from sticking to my heart. The closer I get to him, the worse the dizziness in my head becomes. It inundates my mouth with a sour taste and stirs the uneasy twinge in my stomach.
Hayes sucks in a deep breath with thinned lips, and I can see his shoulders start to quake, the tears much more prominent now as they slather his face. Each sob is a purge of the fury that’s conquered him, the sheet of water on his skin evidence of a losing battle.
Sorrow muddles his strained features. “How could I not have known?” he hiccups, staring at me like I have all the answers to his questions, when in reality, I feel just as lost as he does.
My response breaks in my throat before even reaching the bed of my tongue. “I…I didn’t know, either.”
I don’t know what else to say. I reacted the same way when Faye told me. All I can do is encourage him not to blame himself.
“I failed her, Kit. I was supposed toprotecther. I’m her big brother. I look out for her. She’s been…oh, God. She’s been dealing with this by herself for who knows how long. What did I do? Why couldn’t she tell me? I’m a fucking idiot. I’ve been so oblivious this entire time while she’s been crumbling to goddamn pieces.”
I embrace Hayes in a hug, trying to funnel his pain into my own veins, to offer him a reprieve from the wellspring of emotions inside him. He clings to me tightly—as if he’ll collapse if he doesn’t—and his chest heaves against mine, each haunting howl that crackles his voice making my heart splinter.
“You didn’t fail her, Hayes. There’s no way you could’ve known. She wanted to tell you, she did. I think she was worried about how you’d see her. She didn’t want to burden you,” I whisper.
Hayes pulls back, not caring to wick away the tears flecking his cheeks. “How I’d see her? I don’t…I don’t understand.”
I rub the base of my neck, attempting to assuage the sting there. “I think that’s something you need to talk to her about.”
Realization breaches his darkened eyes. “I can’t believe I yelled at her. I yelled at her for getting raped. I’m the worst brother of all time,” he murmurs, hiding his face in his hands. The tremors continue at a steady pace, like the consistent drip of cave water off pointed stalagmites.
I’m not gonna sugarcoat it. Hayes didn’t respond in the most…understanding…way.
I loosen a jagged breath from my chest. “You could’ve handled it better, but you were dealing with a lot at the time. I don’t think Faye’s going to take it personally if you explain it to her. You just need to understand how your response hurt her, and you need to think about how you can show her that you’re sorry.”
I’m never one to give advice. It feels weird being on this side of the conversation. Usually, I’m the one fucking up.
“She’s never going to talk to me. And I don’t deserve her time. I don’t deserve her forgiveness.” His words are muffled, only barely brushing my ears.
“She’s more ready than you think.”
I think back to how I held Faye in my arms, how she’s spent hours telling me how remorseful she feels, how she wishes she could’ve come to her brother the second she stepped foot in California. The countless tears I wiped from her eyes, the never-ending sobs of hers I swallowed with soft, grief-stricken kisses.
He lifts his head weakly, his heart emblazoned on his sleeve—showing me the true Hayes Hollings, the one freed from the stony façade he always wears. “I was wrong, Kit.”
What is he talking about?
My brows weave together. “I don’t follow…”
