She pales a shade and looks away. “Nonsense, you know he...”
“Mom. Look at me.” I take another step. “Tell me the truth.”
She pinches her lips to one side. “Did you meet him? Did he tell you these things? You know he’s always been shady, Hazel, you shouldn’t believe...”
“Mom,” I hiss, then stop. Taking a deep breath, I take her hands in mine. Gently. “Mom, please. I know you and dad only wanted the best for me. The past is in the past. Please, please. Tell me the truth.”
She swallows, averting my gaze. Before I hiss in annoyance, I follow her gaze.
To her sideboard.
Letting her hands go, I stride to the furniture and open the first drawer.
“Hazel!” She shrieks out as I fumble around magazines. “Don’t mess with my stuff, you know I like things in order...”
I slam the first drawer shut and open the second. More magazines. But as I pull them out, an envelope slides from between the pages and thuds against the hardwood floor.
The two of us stare at it. Then we lunge at the same time.
My youth wins and I reach for it first, whirling around and dropping the magazines to turn the piece of paper in my hands.
“Hazel!” She tries one last time, shooting an arm out.
I pull it out of her way just as I read Vincent’s name and the stamp. The letter is a week-old.
As I turn to face my mom with a grimace, her shoulders slump. Her face gains a neutral expression, as a person who has accepted their fate.
“Here’s one of them, mom.” I fumble with the already-open envelope to reach for the single sheet inside. “Where are the others?”
Quickly, I scan the message. In Vincent’s usual handwriting, the one I made so much fun of, he lets me know he’s graduated from his masters and is moving back, coming after me. The day he says he was supposed to arrive was the same day he told me he did.
Moving back. He isn’t just passing.
My heart drops inside my ribcage. My mom’s voice filters through the buzzing inside my head.
“You have to understand, Hazel. He was such a lousy suitor. And you kept insisting on seeing him! He had a single mother, drove a bicycle around like a member of a gang... He’d never get a job. And you wanted to move in with him! What would you be now? Wretched, discarded, with a drunken husband? Please. We were trying to save you.”
“Mom!” I crumple the letter in my fingers. “I have always tried my best to give you credit because you wanted the best for me. But this?” I shake the envelope, tears stinging the back of my eyes. “You let me believe he abandoned me!”
“He came after you and we sent him off that day. He kept trying to reach you, but we had to keep you safe, Hazel. Once you’re older and have kids, you’ll understand. You have to make sacrifices...”
“Sacrifices, mom?” Tears close my throat. “But you are choosing the sacrifices I have to make! That’s not fair and you know it.” Once more, I brandish the envelope. “Where are the others?”
She sighs, crossing her arms. “I’ve thrown them away, of course. Or do you think I’d be keeping them around for you to find them?” She lifts a shoulder in a shrug. “This one escaped. I had to hide it because I received it as you were arriving, and it slipped me.”
“The phone call that day. Was it him?”
I know I’m right from the look on her face. “Saying he was back in town and wanted to see you.” She shakes her head. “Just because he has a degree now changes nothing. He’s not a suitable match, Hazel.”
My heart aches so much I grow breathless as I turn on my heels and yank open the door. “I am the only one who has a saying on who’s a suitable match for me, mom.” Turning, I wipe a tear off my cheek. “And it’s him. It has always been him.”
But now I can’t have him. I have been so rude, so unbelievably cagey. Nasty even. Maybe he’s given up on staying. Maybe he’s left. It would be understandable.
A huge, five-years long misunderstanding. But my heart’s not the only one who was shattered. And now I have to live with having pushed him away.
It wasn’t just one night. It wasn’t backsliding.
It was my second chance. And I slammed the door in it.
VINCENT
A WEEK LATER
Mrs Ross did a fantastic job painting me as the villain of this entire thing.
After Hazel left me, heart-broken, my pride shattered, I decided I had to focus on rational decisions. No more chances. I tried to prove to her how we fit together, how we connected emotionally, physically... But the amazing sex couldn’t rule out five years of emptiness. I hadn’t known. I hadn’t known she thought I had abandoned her.
This changed everything.
I wasn’t dealing with a relationship that snuffed out and died. It was ripped apart. We had been torn, lies fed to both of us. We believed distinct things about one another for years, and though I had dreamed and hoped of finding her, she didn’t. She had to move on from a heartbreak.
So what I need now is to find proof. My words won’t mean much since she thinks I’m lying.
I haven’t given up. And I won’t. Never.
I spend the week between working, looking for houses to rent, and searching for her bakery... And visiting the local post office to understand what happened to my letters. Turns out they don’t know. If the letters had been refused, they would have gone back to me. But they didn’t, so someone received them. Since Hazel hasn’t heard a single word from me...
Exiting the Uber, I thank the driver and shut the door. The house’s the same since I left. I still remember the day I kissed Hazel on the porch and her parents caught us. No regrets. I had enjoyed every second my lips touched hers.
Striding to the door, I mutter a prayer under my breath and knock twice. When no answer comes, I ring the doorbell. I stand for long minutes before scampering steps approach the door.
Mrs Ross’s eyes widen as if she has seen a ghost.
She tries to shut the door, but I hold it easily with one foot. “Mrs Ross, please...”
“What do you think you’re doing here? I’ll call--“
“The cops? Put a restraining order on me?” I lean to face her. “You’ve told me this once, and I believed you. We both know you can’t do that because Hazel doesn’t live here any longer.”
She relaxes her hold on the door, scowling at me, her chin held high. “Stalker,” she sneers. “How would you know that?”
“I met Hazel, Mrs Ross. Please,” I relax my expression, “I’m not here to wage war. I’m here for peace.”
I pull my foot back and for a moment, I’m afraid she’ll slam the door shut and I’ll miss my chance. But she doesn’t. Her eyes grow unfocused as she looks down, pondering.
“We both want the same thing,” I insist in the softest voice I can manage. “Hazel’s happiness.”
She finally sighs and opens the door wider. “Come in.”
After she shuts the door, she guides me to the living room and we both sit, facing one another. I waste no time.
“Mrs Ross. I want to marry your daughter.”
She scoffs. “That again.”