Page 46 of 2204 Hunter Lane
“You know, from an outsider’s point of view, my life looked like a dream. Money, country clubs, all of that bullshit you see on T.V. But the pressure… the pressure to be everything my parents wanted, the way I had to maintain a level of credibility to be seen by them… I never found myself.”
The rest of my drink was calling my name so I quickly downed the last half and averted my eyes from Hunter.
“When I met my ex, I didn’t know who I was. Honestly, I still don’t. But more so back then, I lived off inheritance money and his lottery winnings and –”
“How much did he win?” Hunter teased, but there was scrutiny in his tone.
I couldn’t help but chuckle. “A million.”
He gulped his drink in one go, finishing it off. “Lucky bastard.”
“Yeah, but he spent it so carelessly and I did too. The entire year I was with him,” I shook my head, “God, I learned nothing. And when I found out he was cheating on me, I realized I was more upset about what my family would think than leaving him behind.
“I blocked his number a few weeks ago and I didn’t feel anything. Like, I was grieving the loss of my old life over the love I supposedly had for him.
“And when I met your mom –stepmom,” I corrected, “it was like this second chance for me. That life wasn’t going to shoot me in the foot every turn I took. I don’t know, I’m sorry for piling up all my baggage on you. I can’t even begin to understand what you’ve been through.”
When I finally found the courage to face him head on, his eyes were burning into mine with inscrutability. They held empathy, compassion and pity but also vexation and torment, the look I was used to.
He slid the second whisky towards me, untouched and full to the brim.
“My mom used to tell megood hospitality for good measure.”
I tilted my head to the side, taking a moment to ponder before realizing what he’d meant.
“You were never going to drink that, were you?” I asked, wrapping my fingers around the cool crystal.
He shook his head. “I know you said you don’t drink whisky, but you might find it handy in tryin’ times.”
Lifting the brim to my lips, I tipped back the brown liquid, allowing it to coat the inner linings of my throat with a bittersweet burn.
“Trying to make me an alcoholic?” I joked, swatting away the acrid scent from my nose.
A faint smile appeared on his lips as he eyed me with a rarity I could only imagine.
“No sweetheart, just doin’ what I can to make up for lost time.”
???
After a couple of hours at the bar, I learned a few things about Hunter.
One, he liked to build boat figurines because his mom would take him sailing when he was a kid.
Two, his favourite colour was green but not an emerald green, more like the mossy camo green that resembled dead grass.Odd, I know.
Three, his bruised knuckles were due to the fact he got into a bar fight last night, something he was supposedly used to.
And lastly, he actually was interesting to talk to, once you peeled back a layer and he actually held somewhat of a personality.
We didn’t talk about me or his mom after my backstory admission and I appreciated it. When he wasn’t inebriated beyond belief, he had this way of making you feel like no storm was ever strong enough to drag you down. Which was such a tragic irony considering he couldn’t weather his own trauma.
The entire drive back to the cabin we discussed my snowboarding improvement and listened to classic rock.
I’d always been a fan of alternative, but his song choice was actually enjoyable, and I ended up adding a few songs to my playlist.
Payton’s Thanksgiving meal was off the charts, and her expression when she saw Hunter alongside me was the best gift anyone could’ve asked for.
I could tell Payton just wanted him to be okay, even though she never knew how to get through to him. Though Dex was sort of quiet the entire time, avoiding eye contact with Hunter.I wonder what that’s about.But I didn’t ask.
