Total pages in book: 177
Estimated words: 169272 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 846(@200wpm)___ 677(@250wpm)___ 564(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 169272 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 846(@200wpm)___ 677(@250wpm)___ 564(@300wpm)
I can’t believe my ears. “What about our trip to Kauai?” Since Hannah’s new job doesn’t start till next Monday, we’ve planned to island-hop to Kauai tomorrow for a luxurious five-day trip, just the two of us. While buying Hannah’s ring this morning, I excitedly told Reed those five days in paradise with Hannah were going to be our “engagement-moon”—a perfect way to celebrate Hannah saying yes. I was a fool.
“I want to go home,” Hannah says, her lower lip trembling. “I need time.”
I can barely choke out my next words. “How much time? Do you mean you’re moving back to Seattle? Is this it for us?”
Hannah swallows hard. “I’m not prepared to answer those questions right now. All I know is I need to cry on the shoulder of someone I trust completely. And since tonight is Kat’s wedding night, I need to go home to do that.”
My heart throbs painfully, as the full impact of Hannah’s words stab me there. I’m not her shoulder to cry on, because I’m the one who hurt her. It’s a crazy thought, when I’d do anything to protect her from pain.
“Could you please go to Reed’s or wherever now?” she says softly. “I need to be alone to cry.”
Fuck. I want to stay and try to convince her to forgive me. I want to beg and plead, to open my laptop and prove I never peeked at her devices before that first dinner in Vegas and never again after that first time. I want to remind her about her new job starting a week from Monday—to force her to admit she’ll be coming back to LA after only a brief visit to Seattle.
But the pained, crumpled, exhausted look on Hannah’s face makes me press my lips firmly together, rise, and start gathering stuff for my sad little slumber party at Reed’s bungalow tonight.
Before I’ve finished packing, Hannah heads silently into the bathroom and closes the door. When she’s gone, I stand frozen, staring at the closed door with my duffel bag in hand. Once I leave this room and tell Reed what’s happened, this nightmare will become real. And I don’t want that to happen. No, I want Hannah to burst out of that bathroom, slide her arms around me, and tell me all is forgiven. That she loves me, no matter what.
The shower turns on behind the closed door. A moment later, I hear muffled crying mingling with the sounds of the water—and I know it’s time for me to leave. Hannah won’t be coming out to forgive me tonight. Nope. She’s inside that bathroom feeling heartbroken and betrayed because of what I did. What I didn’t say. The trust I didn’t have in her. That’s really what this all boils down to, isn’t it? I didn’t trust Hannah enough to reveal my whole self to her. And she knows it.
“What happened?” Reed asks, approaching me at his bungalow’s doorstep. He looks like a father who’s finally located his missing toddler at the mall. He came here in response to my cryptic text from a moment ago. And by the looks of him, he rushed to get here.
Without saying a word, I gesture for Reed to open his bungalow door. If I speak, I’ll cry. And I don’t want to do that out here.
Inside the bungalow, I plop down my duffel bag, flop onto the couch, and empty my pockets onto the coffee table. First, the piece of paper I so excitedly printed off earlier this afternoon in the hotel’s business center, and second, the ring box containing the sparkler Reed and I picked out for Hannah this morning. “I fucked things up with Hannah,” I murmur. “She’s flying to Seattle tomorrow morning.”
“What the fuck?” Reed sits next to me and grabs the folded paper from the coffee table. “What the fuck?” he repeats after reading it, this time indignantly. “Hannah turned you down after seeing this and the ring? What’s her problem? What more could she possibly want?”
“She didn’t turn me down. I never even got the chance to ask her.” I ramble the whole story, and to my surprise, when I finish talking, Reed looks deeply relieved. “If all you did wrong is you hacked her to try to impress her and didn’t tell her the full truth about a few things she doesn’t need to know about, anyway, then big fucking deal. That’s a Tuesday for me, man.”
Even in my misery, I can’t help but chuckle. “Those aren’t small things for normal people, Reed. I know you don’t know this, but honesty is the bedrock of a healthy relationship. If there’s no honesty, then there’s no trust. And if there’s no trust—”
“Spare me the therapy-speak,” he says. “You were honest enough. There’s no rule that says you have to tell your romantic partner every-fucking-thing you ever think, feel, or do. That’s a myth. You’re a hacker, so, obviously, you’re gonna hack her. You wouldn’t ask a bird not to fly, would you? Well.”