Page 87 of My Ruthless Opponent

“Dad! Yes, I am here!” Panic grips me when distortion cuts off his voice.

I don’t wait. I run to the parking lot in my heels. I don’t feel the cold, I don’t feel anything other than the need to get to my parents.

As if in slow motion, my feet move too slow, the raindrops stilling around me as I hear the screeching of the tires over the call, before a loud crash that brings me to my knees.

For a second, I can’t hear anything. The world goes mute. I tell myself what I heard isn’t a reality. The screams that filled my ears aren’t theirs.

I tell myself it’s not real. But when there’s another deafening crash, I cry out. “Dad!”

I wake up on a sob. I look around and find myself curled up and crying, my dress a mess from the sand of the beach.

It is dark. Sitting up, I lean my back on the bark of the tree and bring my knees to my chest.

From the back of my hand, I wipe the tears but fresh ones roll down my cheeks.

Curling my fingers into a fist, I rub my chest. “Mom,” my voice cracks. “I’m scared. I need a hug, Mom.” I hiccup and break into sobs.

I muffle them as I lean forward against my arms.

Sometimes, I think that my mind is my enemy. Because whenever I begin crying, it digs deeper and comes up with more flashbacks, memories, and moments that make me cry until I feel emptier than I already am.

Often, recalling happy memories of the people who left us brings you sorrow. It reminds you that the person will never return. And it hurts. It hurts to face the truth. The truth of death.

With time, we may learn to live again. To laugh again. But there will always be days when you’ll miss them the most. Days where you will long to hear their voice. You’d give anything to see them one last time.

I have lots of regrets. Regrets that would stay with me forever. I regret taking the day off to be with Andrew. The person who I found out was cheating on me.

I regret that night when I could have driven to them instead of kneeling on the pavement, sobbing in the rain.

I will never forgive myself. I dig my nails in my arms as I let it all out.

I don’t know how much time has passed, but I’m still crying albeit quietly.

“Hannah?”

My head snaps up. It is distant but I can make out it’s a male’s voice.

When he calls my name again, I know who that voice belongs to. Raleigh.

What is he doing here? God, I can’t even cry in peace.

I had chosen a secluded place beside a huge rock and trees when I came for a walk earlier. I ended up sleeping here.

It must have been hours since I disappeared. No wonder he came looking for me.

But why did he bother searching for me? Anyway, I don’t want him to question me. Which he would the moment he’ll take in my tear-soaked face.

I stand, wipe my tears and finger-comb my hair before making my way toward him.

“Where the hell were you—” I sidestep a very pissed-off Raleigh, who’s wearing shorts with a Hawaiian shirt.

The said shirt is practically hanging open as he only buttoned the last three buttons, giving everyone unrestricted view of his muscled chest and abs.

He grabs my elbow before I could pass him. “I came out here for a walk and dozed off. Got the answer to your question? Can I go now?” I keep my eyes ahead, channeling as much ice I could in my tone.

The less I talk to him at this moment, the better. Because my voice is a bit hoarse from crying. I hope he doesn’t notice it.

“Are you okay?” His voice is low and soft. So he did notice.

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