Page 112 of One Little Lie
“What the fuck is going on, Halton?”
I keep my gaze down. “Nothing, Colty. I-We just have stuff to do.”
“I’m going to kill you, Halton.”
“I didn’t fucking do anything, Colt. Give us a minute, would you? I don’t know what the hell is going on.”
My throat closes, and I squeeze my eyes tight, count to ten, then pull myself together. The only way this works is if he hurts me, or himself, and I won’t allow him to do either. I have to take control of this situation, or he’ll never forgive himself.
“Fine,” Colton eventually agrees. “Rylan, I’ll be back here in twenty minutes for you to tell me what in the actual fuck is going on.”
I force a smile. “You’re worrying too much, Colty. Everything’s fine.”
“Fine my ass,” he grumbles, pulling me in for a quick hug, then stomping off toward the lodge.
“What’s going on, Rylan?”
Hatty’s voice is quiet, subdued, but his expression is full of angry emotions, searching for a fight.
It’s now or never.Hurt or be hurt? Hurt him and let him hate me, or allow him to push himself so hard he hates me in the end, anyway?
Shaking my head to erase those thoughts, I know there’s only one thing to do.
“Hatty, I know you have to go back to Waverley-Cay. The WB needs you, and I need to go to New York. This is big for me. An opportunity of a lifetime.”
He steps forward, but I sidestep him to keep some distance between us.
“I know it is, sweetheart. I’ll figure out the WB. I want to be there for you. I want to support you, so I’ll go with you.”
“No.”
He rears back as if I struck him. “No? What do you mean?”
“I have to do this on my own, Hatty. I’ve always depended on someone. This is something I have to do myself. You hate the city, and the crowds. You hate the spotlight, and that’s going to be my life for at least the next few months. I don’t know what will happen after this show, but if you come with me, you’ll end up resenting me.”
“That’s not true, Rylan. Yes, I hate all that shit, but I’ll do it. For you, I’ll do anything.” His tone is pleading. His eyes beseech me to listen to him, but as his fists curl and unfurl in an unconscious nervous habit, I know dragging him to New York would be the end of us. He practically admitted it earlier.
“I know you would, Hatty. That’s why I’m asking you to let me go.”
“Let you go? Are you out of your fucking mind? I can’t live without you, Rylan. If I have to go through hell every day to have you, then that’s what I’ll do. Don’t ask me to let you go. I already promised to stay. So did you. Don’t forget you made promises, too.”
His accusatory tone gets my hackles up.
“I think you know better than anyone how easily promises can be broken, Halton. I’ve given, and given, and given. I’ve put in the effort. I’ve made this a relationship while you’ve skated along, never fully invested or putting your heart on the line. Why was that, huh? So, it’s easier for you to walk away if you decide I’m not worth the effort anymore?”
“It’s not like that,” he growls.
“No? That’s what it feels like. I feel like a convenience. What did you think would happen when everyone left Vermont? You’ve had one foot out the door this entire time, just waiting for your escape.”
“I may not be putting in an effort in a way you can see, Rylan, but make no mistake, I am invested. I’m all in. If I’m holding back, it’s because I don’t want to be responsible for keeping you from the life you deserve. I’m trying to protect you, even if that means protecting you from me. You deserve the best. Everything good in this world, and half the time, I’m in the dark. How can I give you everything when I’m still trying to figure out how I fit in this world without the panic that grips me daily? I don’t want that for you, sweetheart. I have to protect you from that.”
Tears fall down my face and soak my shirt.
“But don’t you see, Hatty? That’s no better than when you pushed me away before. You made the choice to do that without ever talking to me about it. You made the decision to protect me, but it isn’t your decision to make. A relationship is fifty-fifty. We compromise. We make decisions together, but you keeping me at arm’s length is the same as pushing me away again. You keep choosing to exclude me from the narrative of our story, and that’s not how love works.”
“What about you?” he bellows. “Aren’t you doing the same fucking thing by going to New York and deciding for me I shouldn’t be there? How is that any different?”
He moves swiftly, and I’m in his arms a second later.
