Page 57 of Hard to Love

“What? What now? Are you going to tell me again how you love me? How you fucked up? Guess what? I know. I was the one who had to withstand the storm when you walked away. I was the one who just about drowned in the flood. You just left. No excuses. No fighting. Nothing. Not even love.” Flipping my key in the ignition, my overhead lights come on, and I see Hardy’s eyes.

He stands before me a different man. His eyes are no longer downcast but staring into my soul. A soft smile plays on his mouth as he reaches out to caress my cheek with his hand. I fight the urge to lean into his touch; his warmth is something I’ve missed. Especially now, when I suddenly feel so cold.

“I have no interest in telling you what Walker did or didn’t do, Thayer. You‘ve believed in us from minute one. It’s always been enough to see us through the storm. Once you realize you still do, you’ll find your way home.” His hand leaves my face; it’s replaced with the cold sting of emptiness.

He backs away, shutting my door. I pull out as he stands there in the dark of the night. I drive for hours, trying to make sense of my life. Walker knows I don’t love him the way I love Hardy, but Hardy can’t be trusted. He walked away, he left me. He won’t even fight for me.

Walker has never had a doubt in us, believing our love will make it. Hardy doubts us at every turn. Never thought we could make it until now. Why now? What’s the change in him? He’s so sure that my love will pull us through this hell he’s created. Why does love have to be so complicated?

Walker has sustained our love, even when I couldn’t; he carried our passion. Strong and sure, encouraging me to continue to hold on. I’ve always had to be the one to do that with Hardy. He’s always felt his love was enough but that he wasn’t equal. He’s been my other half all my life. We just hadn’t become one yet.

Now, just hours before I’m supposed to marry an amazing man, he tells me he’s always believed my love would be enough to guide us home. He thought our love was strong enough to see us through any storm. A storm he created.

As dawn breaks, I shiver in the morning air. When the door opens, I don’t even turn around; we’ve been here before. He joins me on the top step, waiting for me to talk. I have so much to say but oddly enough, not to him.

“What are you keeping from me? Don’t say anything. I know you are,” I say, sighing as I try to steady my nerves.

“What do you mean, Thayer?”

“You know what I mean. You know I hire detectives to find the things I can’t find.”

“I’m not sure where this is coming from.” He starts to shift in his seat.

“Are you going to make me tell you?” Standing, I turn on him in defiance.

“What the fuck are you talking about, Thayer?” Walker jumps up, making a grab for me. I pull away.

“Even Hardy admitted what he had done. Can’t you be a fucking man?” Seething at him, I pray he doesn’t call my bluff of knowing the truth.

“Lower your voice, Thayer. Get the fuck in the house before people hear you.” He tugs at my hoodie, which incenses me. Not as much for the action but as for the fact it’s Hardy’s sweatshirt.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I pull back, losing my balance, but I right myself before I fall.

“Yeah, goddamn it. He told the truth. On his fucking knees because he got busted. He had no choice.” Walker’s in my face before I can get up.

“At least he didn’t lie to my face, mother fucker. Now, get the hell away from me before I wake the whole damn neighborhood, asshole.” My voice rings with a vibrato as I start to stand.

“He told you? Talk about a pussy mother fucker. How’d he find out?” Walker’s back in my face as I strain to look up at him.

“Your good ole buddy, Chet. I was worth more to Hardy, apparently.” Crossing my arms over my chest, I jut my chin out in defiance.

“He’s fucking trash.” Walker wraps his hands around my biceps, his grip increasing with the hatred in his eyes. “You would’ve ended up just like my sister, Sallie.” Spittle flies from his mouth as if it’s foaming.

“What does Sallie have to do with Hardy?” I struggle to get away from his hold.

“Hardy will do the same thing to you.” The pressure on my arms increases to the point that I cringe.

“What the fuck are you talking about, Walker?” Fear grips me.

“Hardy was in foster care with the fucking monster that killed my sister. He beat her to a pulp when she tried to leave him,” he explains to my horror.

“I’m not following what this has to do with Hardy.” I have to know.

“The mother fucker’s defense was the so-called abuse in the foster home he shared with Hardy. The sick fuckers all lived together, hurting little girls. He said the things they endured made him sick. Hardy killed Erica and that baby. I had no clue she knew him when I met her. I’m trying to save you from being fucking murdered.” His eyes have glazed over; he’s lost his mind. I’ve gotta get out of here.

“Now, you admit it?” Baiting him for all I have.

“She was a whore. A drug-addicted whore. Can’t you understand they belonged together? Not us; we’re different. Hardy’s just like his family, sick fuckers.” The look in his eyes begins to frighten me.