“Why . . . are you here?” I lean my head to the side and show my concern. It’s strange, no matter what the circumstances are for Alex to be here. I’m not giving anything away by showing that.
“I wanted to say thank you. And I was in town.”
“You have business in Omaha,” I deadpan. He’s full of shit with that statement.
“Ha, yeah. I guess you got me,” he says, mouth falling into a tight line, a hint of a smirk playing at his bearded cheeks. He’s here on business. I’ll buy that much. But I also know I am that business.
“I’d offer to take you to dinner, but I was about to go to sleep.” I’m careful not to say the word bed. My body teems with frightened energy. I don’t want any part of Alex touching any part of me. It’s bad enough that I’m inhaling his breath.
“No, no. That’s not necessary. Like I said, I just want to thank you, you know, for the heads up on that little trap your boyfriend was setting.” He leans in more, his body fully inside my apartment. He peers to the right and scans the living area and kitchen. He’s looking for Dustin.
“He isn’t here. And he’s not my boyfriend.” My chest tightens at those words. They are true, but they’re also complicated.
Alex rocks back on his feet with a single breathy laugh, his eyes still probing my apartment for clues.
“That your bedroom back there?”
He thinks Dustin is hiding.
“It is. You can go check it out if you want, but I’ll wait outside. No offense.” He’s offended.
His eyes are glued to mine for several quiet seconds, his lids lowering until he’s staring at me through suspicious slits.
“I’ll be damned. That why you called me? Because good old faithful Dustin broke up with you? You thought you’d get some revenge and ruin his plans?” He smirks, pretty sure he’s on the right track. His lie is good enough.
“Something like that. Only I’m not interested in revenge or having anything to do with Dustin Bridges ever again.” My stomach lurches so I shuffle my feet and shift my posture, praying he can’t see the sweat forming on my brow.
Again, he stares.
After a few more seconds, his chest shakes with quiet laughter and he runs his hand over his bearded chin, finally dropping his hands in his suit jacket pockets as he nods.
“That’s good to hear, Hannah. Might get kinda hard since he’s around your family so much.”
“Which is why I’m here, and not there,” I answer back. My head falls slightly to the side and I narrow my gaze and purse my lips. These lies aren’t totally fabricated. There’s a lot of truth woven in, which makes it an easier sell. I just need to tap into those feelings of betrayal and anger.
Alex seems to buy into my story as he nods slightly. His eyes have quit taking inventory of my apartment, which is thankfully void of all things Dustin. The only remnants I have are the T-shirt he gave back to me and the tattoo on my wrist from the first time he broke my heart.
“Is there anything you need, Hannah? Money? Tuition, perhaps?”
I shiver, and I’m sure he sees it. He likes when people squirm. People like him get off on power like this.
“I’m good,” I say, stopping short of telling him I would never knowingly take a dime from him. I can sense him leaving. His weight has shifted, his suspicions quelled. Yet I’m bothered that he is here at all. Before I can stop myself, I throw one more question out there.
“How did you find me anyway?”
My hands pick at the frayed bottom of my T-shirt and his gaze zeroes in on it. His lips curve, just a tick, because he’s pleased to see I’m nervous. Sadistic motherfucker.
“Oh, Hannah. I know whereabouts of everyone I’ve ever done business with. Always, and at all times.” He finishes with a big grin, then bows to bid me what I guess is goodnight.
My mouth hangs open, ready to question his threat, but I manage to stop myself and simply let him go. After trailing down the steps, he disappears into the darkness beyond my car, and I shut my door quietly, not wanting him to have any clues about my panicked heart. I sweep the chain lock in place and twist the deadbolt, then rush to my bedroom that has nothing comforting of my own in sight. I dig through the suitcase I have yet to unpack and find the yellow racing shirt that still smells like Dustin. I hold it against my face, breathing in his essence in hopes it fuels my courage.
I decide right then that this baby will be my secret until I know the best way to keep it safe. Dustin can never know. And he and I can never be. After several minutes of my mind reeling, running through the same plans and scenarios over and over, I pull my phone from my bag and fire off a quick text to Bailey.
ME: Met a few people and am trying out a bar. Wish me luck. Call you tomorrow?
She must have been waiting for my call because she writes back immediately. Her disappointment is obvious.
BAILEY: Sure.
I’m pushing away everyone who gives me strength, but they’re all better off without me. I wish I could separate them from Dustin, too, but then he would be completely alone, and my heart can’t handle that either.
PRESENT
I can’t be in this room. I can’t indulge in Dustin’s presence. I shouldn’t even smile in the same space as him. Anything cordial will look like reconciliation, and Alex will find out. Especially if Dustin sees him all the time.
I push back from the table and ignore the rumble in my stomach that has already awoken to the scent of my mom’s pancakes and eggs.
“I’m not very hungry, Mom. I think you’re right. I should try to get more sleep. If Bristol wakes up, do you mind getting her?” I play off her weakness: time with her granddaughter. She hasn’t had much of it, mostly because I limit it like a prison warden. She lights up at my request.
“Of course. Go on up and rest, Hannah.”
I nod thanks and let my gaze flicker over Dustin, not wanting to fall any deeper into old memories and current worries. I’m nearly to the stairs when my mom stops me.
“Oh, and if Jorge is awake”—I cringe, eyes squeezed tight as I face the stairs—“Send him down for food. And tell him to stop sleeping on the floor. That’s antiquated and silly.”
I’m going to be sick.
“Okay,” I eek out in a defeated, whispered tone. I take the stairs two at a time and step over Jorge’s jumbled blankets, already empty, on my way to the bed. I can hear the shower running, which means he’s awake and has some great pancakes in his future. I doubt Dustin will stick around for bonding time.
These four days are bound to be the longest of my life. I think maybe heading back to Omaha after Thanksgiving dinner is a smart move. Coming home was a stupid idea. I don’t know why I thought I could handle it. I only hope the damage will be minimal.
4
“So you really had breakfast with Jorge this morning?” Tommy hasn’t shut up about my morning since I met him at the track two hours ago. I let it slip out, probably because I was flustered from the whole thing.
“I did. Yes, we’ve been over this. It’s not like I could turn down your mom’s breakfast. She cooked for me, dude. And Hannah went upstairs. I was already eating when the guy came down and joined me.”