Two Bar Mitzvahs (No Weddings #3)(67)

Call me. Urgent.



My phone rang seconds later. I shoved out through the back patio doors for privacy as I picked up the call. “Madison is drunk, in a skanky dress, and she just cornered me against my will, kissing me in front of Hannah. Now Hannah is MIA. Madison told me she was fired, so you may want to have security kick her out if they haven’t already.”

“O-oh, Cade. I’m so sorry. I hadn’t heard. I did call security after your text. Hold on a second.” The party sounds in the background faded, and I heard a door close before she came back on. “Here it is: an email from the board confirming Madison’s termination. It was sent just before the parties started. I’m sorry I didn’t stay on top of her issue. I could’ve warned you.”

I shook my head. “No, don’t worry about it. Knowing that in advance wouldn’t have stopped Madison.”

“Okay. I’ll follow up with security to make sure they’ve handled it. And again, I’m so sorry.”

I ended the call and went outside, prepared to search every square inch of the grounds. As I walked down a lit path, I thought about the spa. But when I got there, I found the doors had been locked at the late hour. Then I searched around the building, sticking to the sidewalks and paved surfaces.

After thirty minutes of searching the grounds, I came full circle, ending up at the front parking lot again. Hannah’s car remained beside mine. I crumpled down onto the curb, finding it hard to breathe.

I was a Grade A *. There were so many other ways I could’ve have handled Madison. I’d been offered an out by my sisters for the entire night. But no, I had to be king. Being cool, calm, and collected in the face of adversity had always been my strong suit.

To admit I needed help wasn’t written into my DNA. My instincts ran with taking on everything at once, juggling to make sure every ball got caught and tossed back up, seamlessly.

Only this time I’d dropped something fragile, irreplaceable.





26


Wreckage


Minutes blended into hours as I sat on the curb in the humid night. Waiting. For what, I hadn’t a clue. My death sentence, I supposed.

Texts had come through from each of my crew, chiming in with updates. No one had seen Hannah. Right when I was about to retrace my steps and start the search all over again, Kristen texted. Chloe had called Daniel to let him know she’d run into an upset Hannah right after the incident and taken her home.

Whose home? Chloe’s or Hannah’s?

Not that it really mattered. Hannah obviously didn’t want to talk to me, or she’d be here now. Would have texted me at least, to let me know she was okay.

But I knew my sins, and they’d been grave.

Possibly fatal.

None of the problem had to do with Madison, although she’d certainly been an instigating component. Part of it had to do with the difficulty Hannah had in opening herself wide and trusting again. Not only that I wouldn’t cheat on her, but that I would protect her—confide in her with everything, for f*ck’s sake. I’d been irresponsible with that. Hadn’t given it the attention it rightfully deserved.

And maybe a million things could’ve happened, impossible to predict, but I knew in my gut something bad had been coming, that Hannah and possibly our relationship were in danger. Even with all the warning bells going off the last few weeks, I could’ve put Hannah first above everything else—all this worthless shit—but I’d chosen not to.

Maybe that said something dark and tragic about me. My therapist would probably call it a “hero complex.” Because guys like me thought we could save the world, handle it all perfectly. But the world had crashed down around me when I failed to keep safe the one person who counted on me the most.

At some point, with how great Hannah and I had been doing, and with how busy things had gotten in our lives, I’d forgotten the challenging path she had walked to get to this point—and how fragile she still remained in many respects beneath that tough front of hers.

“Cade.” Kristen sat down next to me on the curb.

“Hey.” My lungs burned, like every drag of oxygen scorched them.

“I’m so sorry, bro.” She hugged me with one arm. “What’re you still doing here?”

I closed my eyes and shook my head before dropping it onto my folded arms. “Nowhere to go.”

“What?” Her hand squeezed my shoulder when I sighed.

“Home has Ava, our dog. Hannah doesn’t want to see me. And I can’t make my legs move to leave this spot. Her car is sitting next to my Jeep. It’s like the moment I leave, that’s it.”

“So talk to her.”

I shook my head. “I can’t. She’s made it clear she doesn’t want me to. And maybe I don’t have the right to. She deserves better than me. I knew her issues. Had I stopped to really think about her needs and fears for just a moment, and she’d given me plenty of opportunities to do so—she’d even asked me to relinquish the reins with this in her own way for Christ’s sake—then she wouldn’t have gotten hurt. But I was pushing forward too hard too fast, without making sure Hannah was there with me. Now it’s too late.”

She rubbed my back. “Cade, that’s ridiculous. It’s a misunderstanding. Give it time, she’ll come around.”