Chapter Eighteen
Haylee
It’s weird to be home. Well, I suppose I’m not really home, as the label has the band set up in New York City for the immediate future, but it’s weird to be back in the States. I fell into a routine on the tour—practicing every day off, breakfast in the hotel with Ransom and the girls, seeing the sights, sound check, hanging out at the venues. Here in New York there’s no routine, no pattern. We’re shuttled from interview to interview, doing photo shoots, working with new producers. In a week they’re flying us out to LA to do a music video. Like I said, weird.
And it’s even more weird, and entirely horrible, not to see Lennon every day. Or any day. I haven’t seen him since I said goodbye to him in the club.
The last day in London was such a mess. I can’t think about it without feeling a deep rush of shame. Shit got bad, and I broke down. I guess it shouldn’t be a surprise anymore. I should be used to my own failings. But it felt different this time. Maybe because I’d been doing so much better since the tour started. Or maybe because Lennon knew.
It was almost a relief, finding out that the Ransomes had cancelled their appearances for the day and gone home early. Since we were booked on the original flight that evening, it meant I didn’t have to face him. But then he sent me an email, explaining why they went home, and relief was the last thing I felt.
It was short, just a few lines. I talked to my family about our trip to Giverny. Things are a little rough right now. I’m so sorry to leave without a proper goodbye, but James told me you needed a little time. I hope we can talk soon. I hope you’re doing okay. Please call me when you’re ready. I miss you already.
And that was that. I couldn’t imagine how that talk must have gone down with his family. Apparently things were bad enough that they were cancelling all their appearances. Daisy sent me a text from the airport, telling me that she hoped we’d be seeing each other soon, and I responded in kind.
Even though I’m not sure I’ll be seeing any of them again.
I sigh and reach for my phone, checking my messages for the millionth time. I don’t know what I hope to find there. He asked me to call him when I was ready, and as I have no idea what “ready” could possibly mean at this point, I have no reason to think I might have a new message.
I toss the phone back on the table and pace around my hotel room. It’s a much nicer room than the ones we had back in Europe. Much more spacious too. Louis must be right for once—the label is pretty pleased with how things are going. They should be—they’re keeping us busy enough.
That’s been the excuse I’ve been holding onto in my head whenever I start to wonder what in the hell I’m doing not calling him. I’m too busy. The label has us running around town nearly constantly. Hardly the time for a heart-to-heart with the boy I love. The boy who must be so completely disgusted and disappointed in me—
I’m so full of shit. I haven’t called him because I’m scared. That’s the only reason. Okay, scared and embarrassed. Ashamed of myself. All very good reasons not to talk to Lennon.
But none of it stops me from missing him so badly it’s like a constant pain in my chest. I miss his lips, his smile, his laugh. I miss lying with him in the dark, falling asleep in his arms. I miss all the times we simply sat together, quiet, just holding hands. Just being. There hasn’t been a whole lot of quiet for me since he left. At least not the comfortable kind, the kind I shared with Lennon. Instead I’m plagued by the kind of overwhelming, heavy silence that makes me feel like crawling out of my skin. That makes me feel like the only way to get some peace is at the bottom of a whiskey bottle.
“Stop it,” I whisper fiercely. Why can’t I just get my shit together? Why can’t I—
A knock at the door puts an end to my self-recrimination. Thinking it’s probably Louis telling me our morning off is canceled, I swing it open, preparing myself for a fight.
And gasp. Because it’s not Louis standing there. It’s Lennon.
“Can I come in?”
It’s been a week since I’ve seen him, but it feels like so much longer. I drink in the sight of his face, those familiar eyes, his slightly too long hair, his broad shoulders that did such a good job of holding me up.
“Haylee?” he asks. “Can I come in?”
“Of course.” I flush scarlet and move to let him in the room. What is he doing here? I wonder, briefly, how I look. I didn’t sleep well—surprise, surprise—and I’ve spent most of my morning off trying to muster the energy to take a shower. In other words, I probably look like shit.
“How are you?” he asks, eyes concerned. Maybe I look even worse than I thought.
“I’m okay.” My voice sounds scratchy, not okay at all. I clear my throat and try again. “How are you?”
He runs his hands through his hair. “I’m pretty shitty, to tell you the truth.”
Somehow those words break the tension, and I smile. “Sit down.” I gesture at the little dining table. “I’ll get us some water.”
I grab two bottles from the mini fridge and turn back to him, surprised to see his eyes following me. He’s looking at me strangely. Like he’s not quite sure that I’m real. “Here.” I hand him one of the water bottles and sit across from him. “Explain shitty. What’s been going on?”
“My brothers aren’t really talking to my dad. Specifically, Reed. He’s…” Lennon releases a sharp breath. “He had a really hard time when I told them about my mom.”
“And he took it out on your dad?”
“It’s kind of a long story.”
I nod, wondering, with a sharp pain in my stomach, if I’m no longer deemed trusted enough to share those stories with.
“But I’d like to talk to you about it if you have a minute,” he says.
I look up at him, and his eyes are exactly like I remembered. Dark and intense. Expressive. No longer shuttered. No longer closed off to me. I release a breath I didn’t know I was holding.
“I’d like that.”
So he tells me about his mother, about the things he remembered before she left. My mouth drops open as he speaks, my brain frantically trying to connect the woman we met in Giverny with a person who could take her six-year-old son to her dealer’s house.
I reach for his hand. “I’m so sorry. I can’t imagine how scary that must have been. Remembering all of that and wondering if it was true.”
“That’s why those last few days were so bad,” he says, his voice tight. “Because all of that was running through my head.”
I remember what he told me about the times he’d hurt himself before. How he was always looking for ways to turn off the shit in his head. The thought makes me feel sick, the idea that he might have tried to—
“Hey,” he says softly, squeezing my hand. “It’s okay, Haylee. I’m okay.”
Tears are coming to my eyes, and I don’t think there’s any way I’m going to be able to stop them. “I’m so sorry,” I gasp. “I should have been there. You needed me, and I was—”
“I came here to apologize to you!” he cries. “Haylee, look at me.” I look up, and his eyes are burning into mine. “I was so absent that day, when you were dealing with what your mom did. I had no idea anything was even wrong until I saw James. I can’t believe I was so selfish. So self-involved. I should have noticed you hurting.”
I shake my head, pulling my hand away and standing. “You don’t have to be sorry. You were dealing with shit too.” I wander over to the window, sure I don’t want to be looking at him when I say this. “I think this isn’t going to work, Lennon.”
“What?” His voice is sharp, scared.
“Look at us. We’re both so…” I let my forehead fall to the window, the glass cool against my skin. “You should be with someone who can help you when shit gets rough, Lennon. Not someone who responds to bad news by going out and getting so hammered she ends up in the emergency room.”
“Haylee.” I hear him pushing his chair back, and then he’s behind me, his arms coming out to wrap around me. I let myself fall back against his chest. It feels so good, to be touching him again. How am I ever going to give this up?
“I love you,” he says softly. “I should have told you that before.”
“I love you too.” The tears are back in my eyes, and I blink them away rapidly. “But I don’t think I’m strong enough for this.”
“Then we’ll make each other stronger.”
“How can I make you stronger when I can’t even keep myself going?” I turn in his arms and ask him the question that’s been haunting me since he woke up crying from that nightmare. “How can we help each other when we’re both so broken?”
“Because people don’t have to stay broken.” I can see doubt in his eyes, like he isn’t completely sure he can believe that. But there’s hope there too. Hope for me, maybe hope for himself. I close my eyes, wanting to believe it.
“Why didn’t you tell me how bad the drinking was?” he asks.
“Because I was ashamed of it.”
“You don’t have to be ashamed of anything with me.”
I shake my head. “I can’t make it go away. I’ve never been able to make it go away. Ever since Randy…” I feel his hands tightening on my waist, and I take a deep, shuddering breath, trying to keep it together. “The fear just won’t go away. And it makes me feel so stupid and so small. Because it’s been ages, Lennon. It shouldn’t still affect me like this. He didn’t even do anything to me.”
“That’s not true.” His voice is heavy. “He took away your security. Your independence. He made you afraid. He changed you, Haylee.”
My eyes fly open to glare at him. “I shouldn’t have let him!”
A sad smile tugs on his lips. “We don’t get to decide what changes us.”
“You’re saying it’s hopeless,” I whisper. “I’ll always be like this.”
“No.” He reaches up and cups my cheek with his hand, and I lean into the contact, unable to help myself. “We can fight back. Just because something has changed doesn’t mean it can’t change again. It just takes some work sometimes.”
“You think I should go to therapy.”
“I think it could help. It helps me. It helped Daisy.”
I frown. “What about Daisy?”
He looks conflicted, like he isn’t sure he should tell me. But he takes a deep breath and meets my gaze. “She attempted suicide four years ago.”
I can’t keep the horror and shock from my face. Daisy? That beautiful girl with the shining eyes and the big smile? Teasing all the Ransome boys, complaining about her pregnancy even while it couldn’t be plainer that she was overjoyed about it. “Daisy?” I ask, and Lennon nods, his eyes sad.
“But she got better. It’s not perfect for her. She still struggles. But it’s better. She’s happy.”
I want that, I think desperately.
So why am I still so terrified? Why does it still seem so impossible for me?
“I’ve always felt so guilty, Haylee. I thought my mom leaving was my fault. I buried the reasons deep down until I couldn’t remember them, but the guilt never went away.”
“Why did you think it was your fault?”
“Because if the police hadn’t come, my dad never would have found out what she was doing. And she could have stayed.”
“And she could have hurt you,” I say. “Any of you. Or herself.”
He nods. “I have a bigger regret now that I understand. Now that I’m older. I…” He swallows, shaking his head. Swallows again. “If I had told my dad what she was doing sooner, he might have been able to help her.”
“Lennon, you were a little boy!”
He nods. “I know. Guilt isn’t always rational.” His palm tightens slightly on my face, his eyes darkening as he looks down at me. “I couldn’t live with myself if something happened to you and I didn’t try to get you some help.”
“Nothing’s going to happen to me—”
“How many times have you been in the hospital for alcohol poisoning?”
I try to take a step back, defensive and angry, but he doesn’t release his hold on me.
“I don’t know if I’ve ever been so scared as I was in the hospital, waiting to see if you’d let me come in.”
“I’m sorry, I—”
“I understand, you don’t have to apologize. All I’m saying…” His forehead drops down to rest on mine. We stood like this once, back in London. He’d been so tired then, so sad and scared. And I’d taken that moment as such a good sign. That he wasn’t shutting me out. “I don’t want to lose you, Haylee. I don’t think you have any idea how much you mean to me. How much you give to me.”
I don’t understand. How can I possibly give him anything? I’m about to argue, but he cuts me off.
“Everything that happened in Paris and London… if that had happened a year ago, I don’t think I’d be standing right now. I think it would have been enough to destroy me, I really do.”
“Please don’t talk like that,” I whisper.
“But with you there—Haylee, it never crossed my mind. Hurting myself, shutting off, breaking down. None of that was even a possibility. Because you made me feel so much stronger than I ever have.”
I stare at him, dumbfounded. “How is that possible? I didn’t do anything.”
“You were there. My life is better when you’re there. I’m better.”
“I’m scared.”
His forehead creases. “Why?”
“Because I don’t think I’m strong enough to be that for someone else. To let someone depend on me.” A sob rises in my throat, and I push it back. “Look at what happened in London. Things got hard, and I went to pieces. The way I always do. How can you rely on me? I wasn’t there for you when you needed me. And Lennon…” I close my eyes, not wanting to see my words hurt him. “You weren’t there for me either. We were both too sad to help each other.”
“I don’t think we can rely on each other,” he says, and even though it’s the argument I’ve been trying to make, him saying the words is painful to hear. Until he continues. “We can’t rely only on each other. We both have a lot of work to do on ourselves. We both need help. Like, real help, professional. But I know my life will be better with you than without you.”
“How do you know?”
He grins, and a weight seems to lift from my chest. If he can still smile like that…
“Because I have a lifetime’s worth of experience to back me up.” He leans in closer, his lips inches from mine. “Everything got better when I met you. You made me happier than I think I’ve ever been.”
“Lennon.”
His phone rings, and he swears. “I would normally ignore this, but Cash made me pinky swear I would never be impossible to reach again.”
“Cash made you pinky swear?”
Lennon rolls his eyes. “He’s trying to be the new and improved, more fluffy and caring Cash Ransome. Which is all my fault, and I apologize to the world for unleashing this, believe me.”
I’m laughing, which seemed completely impossible a few hours ago. By the time he pulls out his phone, the ringing has stopped. “Damn,” he mutters. “It was him too. I better try—”
Before he can finish his sentence the phone buzzes in his hand. He looks down at the screen, his eyes widening. “Haylee,” he says in a strange voice. “I have to go.”
“Right now? What’s wrong?”
He looks up from the text he’s reading, and the smile on his face takes my breath away. “Daisy’s having the baby.”
“Oh my God!”
“I know!”
“You have to go!”
“I do!”
He types out a quick reply and shoves his phone back in his pocket. “I can’t believe this! She’s not due for a few weeks and—” He pauses. “I hope everything’s okay.”
“Sometimes babies are early. Cash would have told you if something was wrong.”
He nods, taking a deep breath. “Okay. So I should go.” He looks suddenly shy. “Do you, uh, maybe want to come?”
I do. More than anything. The thought of letting him leave without me makes my chest hurt. But something stops me. Something that feels like fear.
“We have promo all afternoon,” I say, trying not to wince when his face falls. “And I… I’m just not sure yet, Lennon. I’m not sure I’m ready. I think… I think I’m just too messed up right now.”
His face tightens. “I think you’re wrong. But I understand if you need some time to think about it. Will you do something for me?”
“Sure,” I reply without a second thought.
“Will you promise to call me this time? I don’t… I don’t want this to be goodbye. No matter what else happens.”
I’m crying again. Goodbye sounds impossible. “I promise.”
He looks relieved. “Thank you.” Then, before I can say another word, he leans forward and kisses me, his lips soft on mine. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
He kisses me once more and then releases me, striding to the door. “Hey,” I call after him as a thought occurs to me. “What are you guys doing in New York? I thought Daisy couldn’t fly after last week.”
“They’re not in New York. They’re in Nashville.”
“You’re here alone?”
He gives me a strange look. “I flew up. To see you.”
A sudden warmth spreads through my chest, but before I can thank him, before I can throw myself at him and tell him that I’m not letting him out of my sight, he gives me a last wave, and then he’s gone.