Chapter Twenty-Nine
Hallie
Atrick I’d learned long ago is wearing headphones with music just loud enough that you can only focus on a single task. Instead of letting unfocused brain cells have free rein with your thoughts, you let them attach to the lyrics of music that’s new enough that you’re not sick of it or old enough that you know the words. It’s a finely honed skill I’ve learned through necessity. I had my doubts over it being a healthy way of coping, but it gave me the ability to function in times when I’d rather curl up in bed with my eyes closed to escape it all. And so it’s stayed in my desperate times, desperate measures toolbox, ready to take out at a moment’s notice.
The text I’d sent to the sperm donor when I’d finally emerged from the hotel’s restrooms this morning had been simple and to the point.
Hallie:One conversation. You free today?
It was easily the most passive, nonconfrontational message I’d ever sent, but it had to be done. I hadn’t acknowledged my relationship to him, didn’t include a greeting. I didn’t have the energy to make it angry, to turn it into a fight. I simply needed this all to be over, preferably today.
And because he’d been desperate enough to use the relationship he’d helped destroy to try and win me over, I wasn’t surprised when he replied instantly.
Unknown number:Yes.
It was absolute insanity. It made zero sense to a rational mind. But nothing about the people who provided my DNA made any sense to me.
Putting on the pair of headphones wrapped around my neck and tapping my bag to check if my backup earphones were ready to go, I left the airport tucked in the back of an Uber.
Sell the house, attend the wedding, leave.
Sell the house, attend the wedding, leave.
Sell the house, attend the wedding, leave.
I let the mantra run through my mind, repeating it again and again during my flight, whispering it out loud while on hold with the real estate agent and lawyers once I’d landed. Highest offer by the end of the day.
My voice cracked only once when Marcus’s text came through.
Marcus:Everything okay?
I didn’t reply, but I also didn’t say my mantra out loud any longer. I couldn’t.
A cloudless day full of blue skies and sunshine isn’t what I would’ve picked for my meeting with the sperm donor. What had been within my control was the temperature of the shower I’d taken to remove Marcus’s scent from my skin. If only water was hot enough to wash away the memory of his touch too.
Doing the mental gymnastics of calculating time differences isn’t where I excel in life. Since I’m behind the wheel, my brain’s the only calculator I’ve got, and according to my calculations, the time in Edinburgh is, well, ungodly. But I call Cade anyway.
He answers a whole lot quicker than I expected.
“I’m coming back,” I state outwardly, for the first time forgoing any type of greeting. It hurts to say, but hearing the words spoken is akin to setting my decision in stone. Or as close to stone as my poor, disillusioned brain can manage.
“Was there a time when you weren’t?” he asks with genuine confusion, tone gruff and his Scottish accent extra grumbly from sleep.
I catch my wince up close as I check my rearview mirror. Realistically, the answer to Cade’s question is easy. I could easily lie and say, “Of course not,” pretending to be indignant and put out by the whole trip. It wouldn’t exactly be hard to sound convincing. But the words on the tip of my tongue are “Well, yes.”
But I don’t get to say either, as my slow response has sheets rustling on the other end of the line. “Hallie, why are you calling me in the middle of the night? Are you okay?” he asks now. And maybe this question is easier.
“No. Not really.” It’s honest. More honest and brutally telling than three words have any right to be. It hurts.
“Do you need me to come to you?” he asks, voice now clear, all traces of sleep having faded.
I love Cade’s earnestness, that I know he would get on the next flight out of Edinburgh Airport if I asked him to.
“No. If anyone’s getting on a flight, it’s going to be me.” I know I should slow down, that right now isn’t the best time to be taking action and making decisions, but the desire to have this behind me is propelling me forward.
“All right. But Hal, if you change your mind, you let me know, okay?”
“Okay,” I reply, feeling a little better at the reminder that someone who cares about me exists outside of this city. Outside of this country. “You can go back to sleep now.”