Page 64 of Why We Break

I can feel my panic rising the longer she’s silent, and I try to block out the fear that I’m losing her again.

After a minute, Hannah blinks, and I can tell she’s about to try to feed me a load of shit. Before she can start, I interrupt her, fighting to keep my cool. “Hannah, if you even think about telling me that nothing’s wrong, I won’t be held accountable for my actions.”

“You just need to go,” she says, already getting up and grabbing for her clothes that I’d thrown across the room when I undressed her.

“What? No. I need to stay, and you need to tell me what the hell just happened,” I growl, feeling my frustration rise at the thought of her leaving like this after what we just shared.

“Why do you care, Will? Just please go,” she says, grabbing her panties and throwing them on, already heading for the door. “Get dressed,” she demands, but instead I stand and grab her arm, trying to keep her from leaving.

“Would you please just stop for a second? I don’t want leave like this,” I tell her honestly.

“Will, I swear to God, if you don’t get out of my way… We’re just fucking, right? Well, we’ve already checked that off the list for the day, and I don’t feel like doing this shit right now. So let go of my arm, and get dressed so you can go home,” she snaps, and I blink at her harsh words.

“What the hell, Han? I don’t understand what’s going on. And I don’t care what we are, but you don’t get to walk out like this again. And you sure don’t get to force me to walk away without an explanation,” I argue, feeling both my fear of losing her and the anger at the way she’s talking to me come to a head.

“Oh, that’s fucking rich coming from you. Sure, act like I’m the only one who walked away from us,” she snarls. “Where the hell is my damn shirt?”

“Um, yeah, you were. You walked in that day and it didn’t matter what the hell I said. You decided you were done—right when I needed you. I was trying to hold my family together and planning on forever with you, and out of nowhere you’re gone. Just like you’re doing now. And then for the last seven years, I’ve wondered what the hell I did that was so bad that you would run and act like I’m the worst man in the world. What is it, Hannah? Please tell me because I’m getting fucking whiplash. You scared that someone might realize you aren’t the coldhearted brat that you pretend to be?”

“Fuck you, Will,” she screams, still looking for her shirt. “What the hell were we thinking? This shit isn’t ever gonna work. I just need my damn shirt, and if you won’t leave then I’m getting the hell out of here.”

“Hannah, listen.” I breathe, desperate to keep her in the room.

Okay, yelling probably wasn’t the best way to keep her here, dickhead,my subconscious reminds me, and I growl, knowing that I need to calm down. If I’ve learned anything over the last few years, it’s that Hannah will put her defenses up and block me out when she feels too much, and I can’t let her leave until she talks to me.

I reach out and pull her into my arms. She fights and claws at my arms, but I ignore her tantrum and hold her to me, wrestling my own temper under control. “We’re not doing this shit again. We’re gonna sit right here until you decide to stop throwing whatever the hell that tantrum was. And then we’re gonna talk through whatever the fuck it is because we’re both adults. Do you understand?”

She continues thrashing in my arms for a few minutes before the fight leaves her, and she collapses against me. I wait for her to say something before I realize that she’s sobbing silently to herself.

The sight catches me off guard because I’ve never seen her look this upset or vulnerable. “Whoa, whoa, Hannah, please, tell me what the hell’s going on.”

“Just please let me go, Will,” she sobs.

“Don’t think I can do that, sweetheart,” I tell her, all of my previous anger deflating out of me as quickly as it came. “I’ll give you a few minutes but then I need to know how we went from having what I thought was a pretty perfect night, to whatever the hell that just was.”

“I—I—I can’t,” she cries, and I hold her as she shakes with the sobs still tearing out of her throat. “I can’t do this with you, Will. It’s too much. This whole damn thing is messing with my head, and I can’t think straight.”

“I need a little more of an explanation,” I say, reminding myself to keep my voice even.

“I just…” she starts, but she trails off after a few seconds, crying to herself until she whispers, “damn it. I’m getting too deep in this, Will. And I need to go and remind myself what the fuck this is. Okay? Are you happy?”

“Okay,” I say slowly. “But why is that such a bad thing, Han? What’s so wrong with wanting to be with me? What was so wrong with it then? I’m sorry, Han, but I’m just really damn confused.”

“Because there’s no future with me,” she cries. “And I can’t do that to you, Will. I know we’ve been horrible to each other the last few years, but that’s what I needed to remind myself that I don’t get to love you. And for the most part, it’s worked. But then we started this, and now I don’t know what’s what anymore. So I need you to go home so I can pull myself together, and maybe we can try this again later. But until then, I need for you to get out of here.”

“Hannah, what the hell are you talking about? Why would you say you don’t get to love me? I was desperate for you that summer. What aren’t you telling me?” I ask, continuing to hold her while she cries.

“I can’t give you what you want, Will, okay? I’m broken, and you deserve somebody who can give you the life you deserve,” she continues, and I feel like she punched me in the gut.

“Han, please, stop talking like that. This isn’t like you. What am I missing?” I ask, desperate for her to make me understand.

“Do you remember what you told me that summer? That night I snuck out, and we spent most of the night talking beside the creek. You told me about the future you wanted. Do you remember what you said?” she asks, and the heartbreak on her face catches me off guard.

“Umm, there’s nothing about that summer that I don’t remember, to be honest. I remember we talked about the future and how we wanted to take over the farm, raise a house full of kids, and spend the rest of our lives together right here. But what does that have to do with this?” I question, pulling her closer to me.

“Do you remember the day we broke up?” she asks quietly.

“Yeah. Like I said, I remember all of it. What about it?” I say, hoping the pieces of this puzzle will start to click soon because I hate seeing her like this.

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