Page 72 of The Boy I Hate

She stared at him, wanting to shake him out of whatever had taken him, because this was not the man she’d grown to love. “Tristan, I’msorry.”

His eyes closed, and he gripped the bridge of his nose in an effort to control his emotion. “I thought you broke upwithhim.”

She shook her head, tears falling down her cheeks with the relief of finally getting through to him. “Icouldn’tjust—”

But he cut her off. “Why was he here? Why was he holding you in his fucking arms?” His words were quiet, but were spit from his mouth with all the venom shedeserved.

She looked into his eyes, seeing all the hurt and hatred that lived there. Guests were walking by, looking her up and down as they entered the reception room, and all she could do was tell the truth. “We’d been together for six years, Icouldn’t—”

But he didn’t listen. “That’s what I thought.” He turned on his heels, not allowing her to finish, and entered thereceptionroom.

She stumbled forward, left in the doorway with her heart in her throat as she watched him walk away. There were people all around her, laughing, smiling, and celebrating—while she struggled to keep herself upright. She walked into the ballroom dressed in a beautiful gown, her hair done up like a princess, yet feeling more alone and undesired than she’d ever felt in her entire life. Needing some sense of solitude, she shuffled through the crowd and pushed through the door to the restroom. She plucked a box of tissues from the closest table then sat down on the toilet and startedtocry.

She knew she’d messed up, knew he was right to be angry, but he wouldn’t even listen to her. He wouldn’t even allow her to finish asentence.

The door to the restroom opened again, and she held her breath, not wanting anyone to hear her crying. The last thing she needed was to cause a big scene at her best friend’s wedding. She heard the stall door close beside her, then a moment later Renee’s head was poking over the stall door by theceiling.

“Hi,” Reneewhispered.

Samantha half sobbed, half laughed at the sight of her best friend. “What are you doing here?” she whispered, her chin wobbling. “You’re supposed to be takingpictures.”

Renee shook her head. “We already took plenty. But I can’t go on, knowing you’re in here dyinginside.”

Samantha closed her eyes, hating the fact she’d done this to her best friend. That Renee was in the bathroom offering her comfort when she should be out there with her newhusband.

“I locked the door. Will you come out and talk to me?” Reneepleaded.

Samantha immediately nodded, knowing it was the least she could do. She crumpled up her soggy tissue, threw it in the trash, and unlocked herstall.

Renee was sitting on a chaise lounge, fiddling with her dress, but glanced up when she saw Samantha. She patted the spot beside her on thecushion. “Sit.”

Samantha did as she was told, grabbing hold of Renee’s offeredhands.

The emotion of the day was etched all over Renee’s face. Emotion about her father, her brother, the wedding. “Remember when I left to go visit Tristan a few years ago?” She began. “When you were in that awful English class and had the midterm loadfromhell?”

Samantha nodded, but her throat tightened uncomfortably because she knew what this was about. Renee was going to tell her about the accident, about Tristan’s shoulder. Samantha had heard the story only days before, but for some reason she remained quiet. She’d heard it from Tristan, but now she wanted to hear it fromRenee.

“Tristan was in a bad accident. He had a concussion, his rotator cuff was torn, bone ripped from its socket…among other things. He was a mess. He underwent emergency surgery to repair what they could, but he was told right away he’d never play ball again. As you can imagine, football was his life, his identity, and I can still remember the look on his face when he was giventhenews.”

Renee’s eyes brimmed with unshed tears as she looked at Samantha. “But what I remember most, was that he immediately looked to my father. Tristan idolized him, always had, and when he saw the disappointment in my father’s eyes, it crushed him. And instead of being a support to his son, my father lectured him. It hurt Tristan more than his injury, more than the loss of his favoritesport…”

She turned to the box of tissues and plucked one from the box, her voice shredding. “Tristan argued with the doctors for over an hour after that, trying to convince them to do more, to give him another chance, but they couldn’t.” Renee’s eyes bored into Samantha’s, needing her to understand. “Tristan hates letting people down. He can’t handle not being enough. As hard as this whole thing has been for me—it’s been harder for my brother. Because the man he’d always tried to prove himself to has shown that maybe he’s not the person to lookupto.”

She wiped at the corner of her eyes as though trying not to ruin her makeup. “Tristan carries the world on his shoulders. He always has. It was unfair of my mom to give him that secret. To make it his responsibility to handle the communication with my father… But like always, Tristan took on the role of making everyone else happy. When my father didn’t even show up...” She cleared her throat, trying to continue. “I think Tristan feels both like a failure, and rejected at thesametime.”

She sniffed softly into her tissue and looked down to their joined hands. “I think seeing you with Steven was the last thing he could take. All his insecurities, all his fears camerushingout?”

Samantha plucked a tissue from the box and blew her nose. “Steven didn’t know what happened. Ihadto—”

But Renee stopped her. “I know you did. And Tristan will understand, too, when youexplain.”

“Buthe?”

Renee gave Samantha’s shoulder a squeeze. “Listen to me. When I saw Tristan walk into the lobby that first day with you, I was relieved. Because I hadn’t seen him smile like that in years. I didn’t know what had changed in him, but I realize now?it was you. You brought something out in him, Samantha. Something I haven’t seen since before he wasinjured.”

Samantha frowned, trying to comprehend what her friend was trying totellher.

“He’s pushing you away, can’t you see that? He’s pushing usallaway.”

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