Two Bar Mitzvahs (No Weddings #3)(68)

I sighed heavily. “Don’t think so. I knew the stakes, but ignored them. I blew off the signs. My ego got in the way. I should’ve handed the event over to you and protected her. It was a huge thing for her to trust herself in the first place, let alone trust me. She went through weeks of therapy over the issues she’d had. I was reckless.” I should’ve been more careful, kept Hannah in the forefront of my mind with all things, especially where Madison was concerned. “All her scar tissue, all the trauma she’d finally healed over and moved on from, got ripped wide open today.”

“So that’s it? You’re not going to fight for her, fight for what the two of you have?”

“Not tonight. She needs time. And I need to get my head screwed on straight. I thought I could be what she needed. I’m the one who asked her to try. But I pushed her concerns aside. I’m the one who failed her.”

“Oh, Cade.” Kristen pulled me in tighter.

I clung to her. My entire world had imploded, and the small comfort of family support in the midst of ruin helped me to breathe for a moment.

“If I disappear for a while, you good to handle everything?” Hannah didn’t want to be around me now. And I didn’t trust myself to stick around and not force the issue to see her.

Her long pause made the air even heavier. “Yeah.”

I lifted my head finally, looking into eyes I hadn’t been ready to see yet. A world of sympathy gazed back at me. I gave her a hard unblinking stare until she reined it in and nodded, understanding.

Working past the choking cramp at the base of my throat, I swallowed hard. “Take care of Hannah too. She needs you. Needs all of you.”

“We will, Cade. She’s family.” A tear tracked down her cheek, but she quickly wiped it away. “You’re family too, baby brother. Don’t you disappear for long. We need you too.”

I gave her an absent nod. Because I was adrift and had no idea what I would do. Even if Hannah came around tomorrow, next week, next month, I didn’t know what it would take for me to be what she needed. But I sure as f*ck didn’t want to be something she didn’t need.

I nudged a gentle fist into her chin. “If for nothing else, to kick your asses at Monopoly.” I forced the corners of my mouth up, but the attempted smile fell.

“Will you tell the others I’m heading out for a while? Kendall and Kiki? Mom and Dad? Ben…Mase?”

“I will, Cade. I’ll give them all your love.”

Good. Because the thought of composing a text to each of them was overwhelming.

I felt empty.





27


Resignation


In the darkened hours of early morning, I stood in my hallway after an insomnia-filled night. The dim lighting distorted what I saw at first. Something white lay on the darker wood flooring in the entryway by the front door. The rectangular paper had been folded neatly, and I bent down to pick up the note in the dark space. The edges were sharp, almost scored at the crisp bends.

I stared at it, as if through sheer will the contents would transform into something good. Only a foreboding that weighed heavy around me caused a sickening pit to churn in my stomach. To prevent myself from throwing up in the hall, I walked toward the kitchen as I unfolded it.

I scanned the note.

In utter disbelief, I read it again, more slowly.

Hannah had written a letter of resignation. Not only from me. Not just from Invitation Only. In a clear overreaction, she hadn’t quit me and the business; she’d cut all ties. With Mase and Ben, with Ava, my sisters.

“Oh, the f*ck you are.” I bit the words out as I crushed the damned note in my fist. Seething, my breaths came quick and shallow. I paced twice, before heading straight back to my bedroom.

After stabbing my legs into a pair of jeans, I yanked my desk chair out, sat, and tossed the crumpled ball into the center of my desk. Then I forced deeper breaths into my lungs as I stared at her note.

She didn’t mean what she’d written—couldn’t possibly want this. In the midst of the love from my family and friends, Hannah had come alive. No way would I let her give that up.

Taking my time to spread the paper back out flat, I stared at the amount of wrinkles in it. Let them be. Let her see the evidence of my immediate anger with her ridiculous notion. Having a powerful message to send, I flipped it over to bare the blank side: a tattered canvas, perfect.

I grabbed a pen off of my stack of unpaid bills then began my reply.



Hannah,

I’m sorry. I didn’t protect you. I should’ve made you first. You’re the most important thing, and I failed you.

I reject your resignation.

When we started down this adventure, we both committed to giving it a go.

One of your greatest fears was risking our friendship and losing not only me, but Mase and Ben. My sisters. My parents.

They are all there for you. Yours as much as they are mine. The girls need you with Invitation Only. Mase and Ben need you. Ava needs you.

Fuck, I need you.

But I know I lost the right to have that mean anything. I know I f*cked up.

But this note isn’t about that.

You want your space. I get it. But do it surrounded by your new family. Take care of them. They’ll need you while I’m gone.

Because you need your space, I’m heading out of town. I don’t trust myself to stay away from you. But I will be back for you.