Page 70 of About Time

My phone rings on my short walk back to my truck. I look at the screen and see Griffin’s name on the screen. “Where the fuck are you?”

“Hello to you too, asshole,” I reply.

“I came in this morning, and only Julio is here. What is going on? It’s been years since you just flaked off and didn’t show up.”

I know he is wanting to lean on me a bit more while he and Wren are settling things between them. Since Liam found out about them, especially about the baby, shit has hit the fan.Ordinarily, I’d be there for him, but I overheard a conversation Wren had with Hattie now that she’s back to working in the office.

There was a lot of squealing, and when Wren congratulated her on her engagement, my heart froze. I know it makes me a dick, but until this moment, I guess I always just assumed that one day we’d work our shit out. Insisting Hattie deserved better was okay in theory, but in practice, I realize I’m a fucking idiot. I’m also not selfless enough to allow her to find it. I might be the worst thing to ever happen to her, and I’m pretty sure she’d agree with me right now, but she’s fucking mine.

It’s taken me twelve long years to wake the hell up, but now that I see clearly, I’m not wasting any more time. I don’t know who Clark is. If she is truly in love with him, I’ll have to make my peace with it, but I have to see for myself. If there’s even the slightest chance that she’s still as in love with me as I am with her, I’m not going to stop until I have her back in my arms. Even if I have to drag her back by her hair.

So that is why I’m sitting in my truck, parked across the street, watching her front door like a fucking stalker.

“Look, Griff, I’ve got some things I need to take care of. You should understand, as you just did it yourself.”

He exhales. I know him well enough to know that he still wants to fight me on this, but I’m not giving him any opening to chime in on what I’m doing.

“Well, what is it?” he finally asks.

“Nah, I’m not into oversharing like you. If I can fix my shit, I’ll let you know. Maybe. For now, you are just going to have to trust me as my oldest friend.”

“I’m not going to have to decontaminate your house again, am I?” he asks. I know he’s joking, but the dark place I fell into twelve years ago scared him. It scared me too, honestly. It’s the closest I’ve ever come to following in the footsteps of my father.

If I had, I’d probably have the plot next to his in the cemetery. My tombstone would read, “Here lies Charles Storm, Jr. He drank himself to death just like Charles Storm, Sr.”

By then it’s debatable that Griffin would even mourn my loss. No one mourned the loss of my father. I only buried him in the cemetery because his buddies at the bar raised the money. The only people in life who missed the bastard are spread out around the cemetery along with him by now. All of them died from one alcohol-related disease or another.

Although, if I followed his footsteps the alcohol would just be a symptom of my broken heart. The sad thing is that for all I suffered, I did to myself. I could have kept her with me. Hearing bits and pieces of Wren and Hattie’s discussion, I realize how much she’s suffered too. I’d hoped she’d let me in and we could talk, but I’m not surprised at having the door shut in my face.

It’s getting late in the day, so I decide to throw in the towel for the day and go to the hotel I’d booked for Griffin only a month ago. I won’t win any favors with Hattie trying to make her let me in again today.

The hotel is just a few blocks down from her condo, and right on the beach. I take the time to go clear my head by walking on the beach. I can see why she ran away to Clearwater. There’s something about the ocean that puts problems into perspective. Nothing seems overwhelmingly big while starting out into the vastness of the Gulf.

I make it a few buildings down from Hattie’s condo. The first thing I see are strands of her hair blowing in the wind. Her hands are behind her gripping onto the rail of her back deck, off the second level of her home. By the tense set of her shoulders I can tell whatever she’s wrestling with is troubling her.

When I get closer I can see a man leaning against the house. His posture mirrors hers, but not in the way that says the peopleare in sync. I don’t know when they got engaged, but the signs aren’t looking good for it to continue.

That is not good for him, but it’s fantastic for me. He turns his back to her, and Hattie drops her head. Her shoulders start to shake as she starts to sob. My opinion turns on a dime. I realize I’ve been selfish this whole time. Even when I pushed her away for her sake, I realize now it was to protect myself from getting too close to someone. To prevent letting someone from getting close enough to hurt me.

I don’t know why I thought that I would suffer less if I was the one that chose to end it. At the end Hattie was still gone, only I had no one else to blame but myself. Knowing that it was my choice didn’t make it hurt less. It just made me feel like the world’s biggest fool. I had love, and I actively pushed it away.

The selfish part of me, which let’s face it is probably about three-quarters of who I am, is glad that they appear to be breaking up. The rest of me is concerned because Hattie seems to be breaking. Maybe I’m a fool for letting myself believe that we’re about to embark on some storybook romance. If she’s in this much pain ending a relationship with this guy, how could she really love me the way I’ve let myself believe.

I hear a door slam, and less than a minute later he comes out of the door on the lower level. I give it a couple of minutes before I go to the front door and knock.

“Clark,” I hear her say before she opens the door. “I—” She sighs in frustration when she sees that it’s me. “Now’s not a good time Charlie.”

“Talk to me, Doll. I do know how to listen.” I steel myself to listen to her mourn another man.

Hattie shrugs her shoulders and takes a half step to the side. I slide in past her. I go sit on the couch and gesture to the seat across from me.

“What do you want me to say?” she asks as she flops into the chair.

“Whatever you want, Doll.” I point at her left hand. “You can start with your missing jewelry and work from there.”

She slides her hand under her leg and fidgets. “I thought I could do it, marry Clark. He loves me so much, and he’s my best friend. I really thought that we could make it work. But it wasn’t enough for me, and it wasn’t fair to him.”

“You should come home,” I say. Immediately I know I’ve made a mistake. Her face pinches and she glares at me.

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