AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“If he could see what you’ve done with your life? What you’ve made here? What a chip off the old block you’ve grown into? Hayden, I guarantee he’d still think the same about you.”
18
RAE
I steer Hayden back in the direction of the stables later.
It seems like the best option after he’d closed that scrapbook and kept his eyes shut for what felt like forever. Even now, with his eyes open, I’m not sure he sees where he’s going or realises that we aren’t alone on this slow and stumbling journey.
Mitch walks with us as far as the chapel, talking to him the whole time, one arm around Hayden’s shoulders, the other around Justin’s, and I’ve heard the man boom enough times to know this quiet tone is different. Low and soothing. At least I hope it’s soothing for Hayden.
My own head buzzes with what I didn’t expect to hear or witness after getting thatneed to ask you somethingmessage.
I have news to share with Hayden as well, but now I’m so fucking glad I didn’t. Glad, too, that I got to see what filled the pages of this scrapbook I carry, otherwise Mitch stopping now beside the chapel door and then cupping Hayden’s face with both hands would have zero context.
I’m still not entirely sure why Mitch tells him, “You haven’t done a single thing that your dad wouldn’t understand, mate. Hewould have coached you through it if he’d been there with you. You were his star before, during, and after. You are right now. You always will be.”
I take a step back, giving them space for a conversation that seems even more private than what I’ve already witnessed.
Hayden’s hand snaps out to stop me, and if this lightning-fast reaction is a measure, no wonder he was scouted.
He doesn’t even need to look to find me. He’s so aware of where I am in relation to him—so certain it’s my hand he needs to hold on to. I’m stopped in my tracks. Then I’m reeled in, a fish on a line, and I don’t usually let myself get hooked when the world is full of bright and shiny sights I haven’t drawn yet, but I can’t fight this hold.
More than that, I don’t want to.
Distance is the opposite of what I want from this big man who I watch crumple, a giant felled by hearing he was cared for, which is bullshit. Everyone loves Hayden and wants to keep him.
Like me.
I’m who reels at that thought all while being pulled even closer to hear Mitch’s next murmur. “You’ve even started to let yourself shine again at what you’re good at lately, haven’t you?”
Shine?
As far as I know, before this morning, Hayden hadn’t touched a football in years, and I get it. There’s a whole world of pain in my past I’m in no hurry to repeat and would never want to.
Only maybe Mitch wasn’t talking about Hayden crashing out of soccer.
He says, “I watched you coach those kids all morning in the clearing. Mate, they fucking light up around you. A little bit of your shine has rubbed off on every single one of them. Where did you learn how to do that?”
I can guess this answer. Hayden confirms it by choking out, “With Dad.”
“Of course you did.” Mitch gives Hayden’s shoulders the kind of shake that would make my head wobble and my ears ring. It barely rocks him, but I’m close enough to see the effect of Mitch’s next rumbling statement. “You getting to shine again is exactly what he would have wanted.”
Hayden’s face creases with emotion, folding. I see it happen the moment Mitch adds, “If you can let yourself enjoy what you excel at, he’ll see your light all the way from heaven.”
I can run with that visual—Hayden’s always shone to me, hasn’t he? Every time I’ve added a little brightness to a doodle, he’s been my inspiration. Even though I’m on a countdown, it’s him who keeps appearing on my paper, and how many times have I drawn him as a guide or caretaker for someone sharing his roots?
And isn’t caretaking exactly what he’s been doing for his sisters from a distance, even if I heard his stepmum say loud and clear that they’d all rather see more of him than of his money.
Now?
He’s the only person who needs taking care of.
Mitch looks down at where Hayden’s hold on my wrist has slipped so our fingers thread, and has to come to the same conclusion. “Take your man home.”
I don’t argue with hisyour mandescription. I can’t make a joke out of it, not while a clock is ticking. In fact, I’m pretty sure if anyone tried to take over steering Hayden to safety, I’d fight them for him. I can’t even care if that’s an overreaction. When it comes to him, I’m done with being rational.
Right now, I’m a man on a mission that has me guiding Hayden through a quiet school while fully prepared to push back hard—to growl or snap or snarl if anyone tries to stop him from getting what he needs, which I guess right now is silence.
