Page 35 of Break Point
Henry kisses my hair a few times, repeating how sorry he is and promising he won’t go anywhere. Warmth fills my chest, and for the first time in a long time, it feels full.
“Were you hurt?” I ask, breaking off the embrace and brushing the tears from my face. “Just tell me what happened. I can take it. I’m not a child anymore.”
Henry lets out a low, breathy laugh. Cool air flows around me, and the warmth of his touch, still lingering on my skin, vanishes in an instant. I don’t like it. He takes a seat, slumping back in the chair.
“You’re asking me if I was hurt?”
He shakes his head, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips.
“Yes,” I say, lowering myself into the seat beside him.
“I’m the one who hurt you, and you’re still worried about me?”
“Yes.”
“Okay.” He sighs in defeat, knowing I’m too stubborn to let him back inside the apartment until he tells me everything.
“My dad lost most, if not all, of his money on gambling, partying, and alcohol. He was up to his neck in debt, so my parents had to sell the house in Montclair to pay off bookies in Atlantic City. I was devastated when they told me they were selling it.
“But apparently, selling our home wasn’t enough to cover the debt. And let’s just say he didn’t owe money to a few small-time bookies. He got involved with the wrong people, and when he couldn’t pay them back, he asked for an extension. They refused, and that’s when the death threats started rolling in. We had to leave immediately after that.”
Henry looks beyond devastated. I can see how hard it is for him to talk about this, and a part of me wants to tell him to stop, that what he’s shared is enough and that we can revisit this another time. But I don’t. Because deep down, I know this might be the only window to learn what happened. Something tells me he won’t want to resurrect this conversation once it’s over.
After remaining silent, he continues.
“My mom told me we had to cut off communication with everyone we knew here. At first, I didn’t understand why. I didn’t know what was happening or how deep we were in this mess. But I found a way to eavesdrop on my parents’ conversations, so eventually I had a general idea of what was going on.
“It wasn’t until I told my mom I wanted to see you before we left that I realized the gravity of the situation. She told me everything, or as much as she could at the time, and said I couldn’t tell you where we were going or why. But I knew you’d see through the lie. You knew me too well. I couldn’t risk it. I couldn’t risk getting you involved. These people were onto us, trailing our every move. I became paranoid and panicked.”
Henry pauses, rubbing his face with both hands.
“Knowing now how badly I hurt you, I wish I could’ve made anything up. But I was—” He sighs and lets out a grunt, heavy with exasperation. “I was stupid, Bells. I froze up.”
“You were not. I’m so sorry you had to go through this,” I say, and I mean it. “I didn’t know any of it.”
“Thank God for that,” he replies. “But that’s not all of it. I also caught my dad cheating. One night, he came home late, drunk to the bone. I couldn’t sleep, and I heard a car pull into the driveway. When I looked out the window, I saw a woman in a green BMW dropping him off. They made out right outside the house.”
Henry’s teeth press hard into his lower lip, the tension etched across his face.
“I ran downstairs and waited for him to come in, but he’d checked out of reality. I don’t know how he managed to walk into the house. But when he did, I stupidly admitted I’d seen him with a woman. He denied it and threatened me so I wouldn’t spread lies to my mom.”
My face scrunches up. This is so much worse than I thought. I never imagined Henry was going through all of this at home. It reminds me of the day I saw Dad carrying Mom to their bedroom. Her arms hung limp at her sides like a rag doll. When I asked my dad what was wrong, he said Mom had fallen asleep outside on the terrace. But I knew that wasn’t the case. I knew she’d been drinking.
Thankfully, I only witnessed that once. I can’t imagine how hard itmust’ve been for Henry to see his dad in compromising situations again and again.
“Did he ever hurt you?”
“No. He wouldn’t have been able to,” Henry replies swiftly. “I could’ve pushed him back with a single finger, and he would’ve fallen on his ass. But when he was sober, he was … great. Himself. Once alcohol hit his bloodstream, he transformed beyond recognition. Seeing this monster, this … demon take my dad’s place whenever he was drunk made it harder to stomach.
“I’d usually help him up the stairs to his room when he came home like that. My mom took sleeping pills, and even though she insisted she had insomnia, I knew it was mostly because she didn’t want to be awake to see him in that state on the nights he went out.”
“I’m so sorry,” I say again, leaning in to reach for his hand.
He gives me a sad smile, his fingers brushing the back of my hand.
“Why Chicago?”
“Well, my mom has a cousin in Chicago. He owns a chain of gyms and offered her an administrative job there. He rented us a small apartment and basically gave us a chance for a fresh start.”
