Page 119 of Missing Pieces (Men of Manhattan 3)

"Nah." He pushed the empty plate away from him and shoved the phone back in his pocket. "Let's rent a movie or something. Then we'll see if you're up for visiting that bar later."

I laughed. "Trust me, I'm not. I'm actually pretty tired. I think I'm just going to go to bed."

"Anchorman?"

I laughed. I'm pretty sure we had watched that movie a hundred times in college. "Okay, yeah, let's watch Anchorman."

"Score. Grab some beers out of the fridge, I'll go set it up."

***

I picked up the final letter, even though it felt like I couldn't read anymore. Most of them seemed composed. Like she was holding back her true thoughts. But in the more recent ones, pain radiated off the pages. It was like she had given up hope. In me. In living. No wonder she had sent me away. I stared down at the final letter.

Tyler,

I need something to hold on to. It feels like I'm drowning and I don't know how I'm supposed to keep going. No one understands. But I know you will. I just need to hear your voice. I need to know I'm not crazy. I need to know you're okay. I need you.

If I've done something wrong, you can tell me. But I can't keep writing like this. It's too hard. You feel so far away and I'm lost. You promised that I'd never be alone. I've never felt more alone. Please call me.

-Hails

Reading about her pain made my chest hurt. It felt like I couldn't breathe when she couldn't breathe. I touched the smudges on the page where her tears had fallen. No wonder she hadn't forgiven me. I hadn't been there and she had slipped back into the darkness. I felt myself slipping there with her.

After talking to my mom, I finally felt like I was ready to forgive myself for what happened with my dad. But I wasn't ready to forgive myself for hurting Hailey. Not when I wasn't sure if she was okay.

I stared at the ceiling. What the hell was I doing in Texas? I should have stayed in Indiana and fought for her. But the truth was, I knew why I left. A girl like that deserved better than me. She deserved someone who had their life figured out. She deserved someone who wasn't such a fucking mess.

Josh knocked once and then opened the door. "Dude, I thought you went to the bathroom. What the hell are you doing?"

I slowly sat up. "I fucked everything up."

"Yeah. I know."

I hadn't been expecting him to say that. How did he know? I hadn't really told him anything besides for the fact that Hails and I didn't work out.

"Why else would you be lying in my guest room reading a bunch of..." he lifted up one of the letters, "handwritten notes like a little bitch? Should we watch The Notebook instead of Anchorman?"

That was harsh, even for him. "I'm not..."

"Get out of bed."

"Seriously, Josh, I just need some sleep."

"No, what you need is something stronger than beer."

"Okay, fine. Your bar is completely stocked though. Let's just finish the movie."

"No. We're going out. And change into something less wrinkly or you're going to scare away all the ladies. You're killing me, man."

&nb

sp; I looked down at my t-shirt that I had been wearing on the plane. He was right, it was ridiculously wrinkled. However, I didn't care about scaring away women. I didn't care about anything.

"Look, we'll stay there for five minutes. And if you aren't having fun, we'll leave. Deal?"

Jesus, he was not letting this go. "Fine." I stood up.

"Shirt. You look like a bum."

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