Chapter Eighteen
It’s almost an hour before he arrives back at my apartment, but it feels like almost a week has passed. I can feel my mood swinging back and forth, first convincing myself that going after him is the right decision – the only decision – and then deciding that I’d only get in the way. The minutes creep past one by one, each tick of the clock reminding me that there’s no guarantee when (or even if) he’ll be coming back.
I am alone, and I might very well stay that way.
But then, as I’m just about ready to pull on my shoes and head out into the street to look for him, the intercom chirps and he’s back with me.
‘Hey,’ he says as he slips into my apartment. ‘It’s OK now. I sorted everything.’
‘What happened? Where’s Meredith?’
‘Gone,’ he says simply.
‘She left?’
‘She didn’t have much to stick around for. I told her she was fired. Once she realised I was serious, she decided to get on the first plane back to New York.’
‘You told her she was fired?’
He nods.
‘And you didn’t stop her from leaving?’
‘Why would I? I didn’t want her around anymore. She went too far this time, Carrie. I could deal with most of the shit she dreamed up, but this… it was too much. Not when she brought you into it.’
‘You shouldn’t have fired her,’ I say. ‘Not on my account. You can call her. You can get her to come back. You –’
‘I didn’t do it for you.’ It’s a simple, unadorned statement: just a plain old fact. The way he says it, it makes it sound obviously, as though it couldn’t be any other way.
‘Then why did you do it?’
Hale looks at me as though it should be obvious. Perhaps he’s right.
‘I asked her if she’d said all that,’ he says. ‘She didn’t deny it. In fact, she seemed almost pleased. So… smug. She played the whole thing off like she was doing me some big favour, like she knew what was best for me. Like I couldn’t be trusted to make my own decisions. I just got so damn tired of that. Merry and the label, trying to shape me into something I’m not. I went along with it for too long. I’m just sorry you got dragged into it all too. Forgive me?’
I lean in and give him a wordless hug, my arms tiny around his waist and his as heavy and firm as pine logs around my shoulders.
‘I take it that’s a yes?’ he asks.
I nod into his chest. ‘Thank you,’ I say. ‘Thank you, Hale.’
‘For what?’
‘Just… for this, I guess. For being here.’
‘Nowhere else I’d rather be.’
His voice is gruff, but his grip is firm, and for a second – despite knowing how he feels about Eden – I almost believe him.
‘Really?’
‘Yeah,’ he says. ‘Why wouldn’t I?’
‘I don’t know. You’ve got your life in New York. The tour coming up. Fame. Fortune.’
He grins down at me. ‘Fortune might be pushing it a little, Carrie.’
‘You know what I mean. I just don’t get it.’
And then I’m pulling myself out of his grasp, looking him square in the eyes. His forehead is wrinkled in confusion as he stares down at me.
Now or never, Carrie, I tell myself. You have to know what this is. If it’s real, or if it’s a figment of your imagination. No matter what, you have to know.
‘Why me?’ I ask, even though I’m scared of the answer. ‘What could I possibly offer that you can’t get from a thousand different girls? Just tell me, Hale. Please. I can’t figure it out.’
I can feel his fingers on my arms, gripping me as he pushes me ever-so-slightly away from him, until he’s far enough away to look into my eyes. His expression is soft but serious, no hint of a joke on his face. I’m grateful for that. I need to know. I need to understand. When he speaks, he speaks slowly. ‘Because it’s you, Carrie,’ he says. ‘Because it’s always been you. Because I can’t think up a world where it isn’t you. I don’t know how else to explain it.’
‘Try,’ I say. ‘Please.’
He lets out a long sigh. ‘OK, so… here’s the thing. I hated the idea of coming back to Eden. I hated it. Spent ten years promising myself I’d never let myself get sucked back here. Cut off ties with my dad, with every bad thing that ever happened to me. And I built a new life for myself. A good life. Better than I ever could have dreamed. So when I came back here, I didn’t know what the hell I was going to find. I figured that it would be the same old town, that I’d be able to flip it the bird and say, “Hey, fuckers! Look at me now! I got out! I made something of my life!”. And my God, Carrie, I wanted that. I wanted that so much. I just wanted to rub people’s noses in it, just because I could.’
‘Hale, I don’t –’
He puts up a hand. ‘Just a minute,’ he says. ‘You wanted the explanation, so let me finish. So I wanted to really show that I was a big deal now, and then I rode into town and… nothing. I didn’t recognise any of it.’
‘What do you mean?’
He pauses. ‘Well, no. That’s not entirely true. I did recognise it. All the streets were in the same place, all the buildings looked the same. Physically, it was still Eden. But it didn’t seem like the same town I’d grown up in. It was like a whole new world, you know? Like I’d stepped through the looking glass, and everything was just that little bit different from how it was supposed to be. And what’s the point of bragging in that case? I couldn’t show off; I had nothing to show off to. I might as well have been trying to impress the moon for all the satisfaction it would have given me.’
‘So what happened?’
He looks up at me like it should be obvious. ‘I walked into the Red Rose Diner, and there you were. Just the same as you were ten years earlier. Hadn’t changed a bit.’
The idea raises the hairs on the back of my neck. ‘Thanks,’ I say. ‘I think.’
‘It’s a compliment.’
‘Is it?’
‘I think so. You were the one good thing about this town. The one thing that made it worthwhile. If you hadn’t been there that day, or if I’d chickened out and decided not to head into the diner – if it hadn’t been your shift, or if you’d moved away – then there wouldn’t have been anything left here for me. But here you are. Still my Carrie. Just like you were way back when.’
And just like that, there I am again at sixteen, standing in the harsh-lit parking lot of the Stop ‘n’ Shop just outside of town. I can see myself, just as I was back then. I’ve got Hale’s blood on my shirt and I’m watching him look at me, just as I did ten years earlier, and as I see that wry little smile cross his face I know for a fact that I feel just the same way now as I did a decade ago.
I love him.
My God, do I love him.
My fingers grasp and reach for him, longing to have him close to me, never wanting to let him go. I know, deep down that it can’t last – that the tour is calling him, that the lights of the city are going to end up drawing him back to them sooner rather than later, like a moth to a flame – but right now this is enough for me.
‘Stay tonight,’ I mumble into his chest. ‘Please. I need you here.’
I feel his arms wrap around me, pulling me into a tight bear hug, and without a word he leans forward and kisses me on the top of my head. By the time we’ve made it to my bedroom and his skin is bare against mine, the rest of the day seems almost like someone else’s bad dream.
But for how long, Carrie? the little voice asks in the silence, too brave and too bold to be quieted forever. How long can this possibly go on?