Rogue C27
That Hayden didn’t leave without a trace, after all.
I grab the letter and cross the deserted street out to the beach. The waves are soft in the distance-the sound usually soothing-but nothing can soothe me now.
Sitting down on the beach, I open the envelope with trembling hands and pull out the letter inside.
Lily,
I’ve decided to join the Navy. They have a great program for college, after you’ve served. You know that I never had a real shot at getting into any college around here, not to mention the great ones that you’re headed to, so this is my best option. You have always wanted more for me, and more from me. I promise to do my best to live up to that faith.
I want you to go to Yale, Lily. I want you to take so many art classes that you piss off your dad. I want you to wear the black nail polish that your mom hates. I want you to never be in another car accident for the rest of your life. I want all of that for you, and I know I can’t be a part of it.
You always believed in me, and you always believed in us, that we were stronger than the world around us. So I know this won’t make sense to you right away. Maybe it never will. I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry for a lot of things, but most of all, I’m sorry for that, for breaking your belief in me. I have never wanted to hurt you, and knowing that I have cuts deeper than I imagined.
And I’m sorry for leaving when you’re still healing from the accident. That night will haunt me for the rest of my life, but I hope it never haunts you. You deserve better than that. Your future is bright, Lily. Always has been.
My world is infinitely better because you’ve been in it. Thank you for everything. I hope you can forgive me one day, even if I don’t deserve it.
HaydenContent property of NôvelDra/ma.Org.
I read it once, and then I read it twice, having to stop when tears blur my view entirely.
The ten years that have passed might as well have been a week, for all the strength I have left. I cry for myself-for how crushed I’d been when he left and broke my heart without a word, while the explanation was hidden somewhere in the very house I lived in.
I cry for young Hayden-for thinking he had no other choice, for leaving the one place that was home because of me, and the one person he trusted failing to see how intensely guilty he felt after the accident.
I cry for the ten years that feel wasted in longing. For how I’ve seen him everywhere, in everything, even when I desperately wanted nothing more than to forget him. For how I heard his encouraging words in my head during difficult times. For how I could curse his very existence and at the same time wish he was right there alongside me.
He had been honest. He had left because he wanted to pursue college.
But the words written here, in a strong, sprawled hand, speak of anguish and desperation. Of guilt and fear. And somehow, I’d failed to see that entirely, or even consider the possibility that he felt that way.
So I cry for that, too, for good measure. For my own blindness, and for clarity and insight that comes too little, too late.
Hayden
Hayden, 18
Gary rolls his neck and shoots me a look I know well. I put down my cup of coffee. I’m not going to like what’s coming next.
“Your dad called again.”
My breakfast turns to unease in my stomach. “You answered?”
Gary sighs. “Yes. And I told him the same thing I’ve said before-that you don’t want him in your life. I didn’t tell him where we are.”
“Good.”
“He mentioned that he’s been texting you.” Gary bends down to tie his shoelace, the picture of studied ease. “That true?”
Damn. “Yeah. I haven’t been answering, though.”
“How’d he get your number?”
“Through Aunt Ella, I think.”
“Of course. That woman couldn’t keep a secret to save her own life.” Gary sighs. “You know it’s your decision whether to talk to him or not. I can’t decide that, kid, even if you know where I stand regarding that man.”
“I know.”
“Just… be careful. Don’t give him any clues about where we are, okay?”
“I haven’t. I won’t.” I haven’t seen my father in nearly six years and I have no intention of changing that. There’s only so many times he can lure me in with the promise of an apology before I know to leave well enough alone.
The years I’d spent with Dad, after Mom died, were the worst of my life. I had been lucky that Gary had taken custody of me instead. He’d come to see how his nephew was doing, blissfully unaware of his brother-in-law’s addictions and violence. He’d taken one look at the situation and called social services. Without him, I would have been in my tenth foster home by now.
Plus, the absolute last thing I need is that man here, in Paradise Shores. The Marchands can never cross paths with that part of our past.
There’s just some filth that stains, never to be washed out.
Gary throws me an apple. “Don’t forget your lunch box.”
“Funny.”
“I’m a straight-up comedian.” He grabs his jacket from the hook on the wall. Another day as the handyman. “Won’t you be late if you hang around here?”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“Don’t think I haven’t noticed that you’re not hanging out with the other kiddos as often lately, by the way.”
I zip up my leather jacket and ignore him.
“I’m not gonna meddle. But Hayden… You’ve got a good job at the docks. A good place to stay. Don’t screw this up.”
“I won’t.”
He pulls on his cap and shoots me a warning glare. If I thought I was too old for guilt, I’m not. The familiar feeling creeps through me. I know this job is solid for him-I can’t be the one to fuck that up.
“I know,” I tell him, one hand on the door. “You don’t have to say it.”
“Good. And about the girl, Lily… Be careful, kid. Be very careful.”
The sea is gray and so is the sky. On days like this, there’s nothing charming about living right next to the ocean-it’s cold and miserable. I take the long route toward the garage, avoiding the back lawn and the Marchands’ wrap-around porch. Gary’s right.
I have been riding with the Marchand kids less likely.
I’ve also been feeling intensely guilty, all on my own.
It’s hard to avoid thinking about the reason why. Lily. Beautiful, strong-willed, sweet, soft Lily. Lily-with-the-wild-dreams, Lily-with-the-shy-smile.