The harsh “make it quick” he’d planned on saying died on his lips at her tears. “Maddie,” he said, the endearment slipping out unintentionally. “What’s going on?”

“Jon and I had a fight,” she said, wrapping her arms around herself.

He tucked his hands into his pockets. “About?”

“He thinks I’m still in love with you.”

Well, that was something. He hadn’t thought Jon even gave him a second thought when he’d decided to steal his girlfriend. “And you thought showing up at my door after your fight was going to assuage his fears?”  

She sniffled, he thought to cover a laugh, but then a sob racked her body. “He’s right, though.”

Shit.

“It should’ve been you,” she continued. “I thought... I thought we’d be together for always, like we promised, and I know—fuck, I know I messed it up.”

“You didn’t mess it up,” he said, trying and failing to keep his voice steady. “You fucking blew our relationship to pieces.”

The anger he’d long since digested roiled in his stomach. His hands clenched into fists. Was she serious? He felt the tautness of his control.

“And then you agreed to marry him! You didn’t even talk to me about it.”

“I knew you would never forgive me.” She paused. “Would you have—could we have gone back?”

“We’re not doing this. I’m married. You’re engaged to my brother.” He took a breath. “You made your choice. And I made mine. Whether you regret it or not is not my problem. Besides, I thought you and Hannah were friends.”

“This isn’t about Hannah,” Madison said, tears continuing to stream down her face.

“This is entirely about Hannah.”

“I love you, William.”

A gasp echoed down the hall. Will didn’t have to look to know it was Hannah. He’d known she was almost here. He’d opened the damned door. Will and Hannah’s eyes met, with Madison, the embodiment of his cowardly secret, standing between them.

Chapter 39Hannah

I love you, William.

God, was she ever going to get that image out of her head? Will had been leaning against the doorjamb in his pajamas, a pained expression on his face. Madison had been close—too close—tears streaking down her cheeks. Madison was Will’s maligned ex. Of course she was.

Hannah stopped at the front door, dropping her bag onto the floor. Several sets of keys hung from hooks in the mudroom. She pulled Will’s down and slid them into the pocket of her hoodie. She couldn’t stay here.

Her stomach churned. She leaned against the door, willing herself to stay on her feet as a sob wracked her body. Why hadn’t he told her? Worse yet, how hadn’t she figured it out? Hannah had seen it, had felt the weird tension between the two of them for months. It explained Will’s hesitation whenever she asked a question about Madison and his awkward encounter with Madison’s parents at the party. He’d been filtering his answers the whole time.

Fuck. She was such an idiot.

“Hannah.”

“Leave me alone, Will.” He must have followed her. Why hadn’t she thought to hide in one of the million rooms in this house?

“It’s not—”

She whipped her head up. He had to be kidding. “It’s not what it looks like? You mean Madison’s not your ex, and she’s not still in love with you?”

“Just listen to me, Abbott.”

No. He didn’t get to call her Abbott or Mrs. Thorne. He didn’t get to explain. Not then. Maybe not ever. Hannah pulled open the front door and stepped out into the frigid night air. They’d had the coldest temperatures all season this week, and she was in a hoodie.

“Hannah, wait! What are you doing?” Will grabbed her arm, stopping her in her tracks. “Please don’t go. I love you.”

“Don’t say that to me.” She turned to face him, and for a split second, she worried about him being out in the snow in only his pajamas. He wasn’t even wearing shoes. “You don’t get to say that to me.”

“Madison is just upset. She doesn’t mean it.”

“Are you serious right now?” she yelled, pushing him away from her. “Screw Madison! How could you lie to me this whole time? Did you think I would never find out? That I wouldn’t care that you married me to hurt her?”

She watched him try to come up with an answer. Finally, he shook his head and looked at her with sad eyes. “I didn’t marry you to hurt her.” He reached for her and she flinched. He dug his hands into his pockets, his eyes imploring her to listen. But she couldn’t. “Please come back inside.”

She shook her head. “I trusted you with everything.”

Without waiting for another response, she turned and ran to Will’s car, barely able to see through the tears. She climbed in, started the engine, and threw the car into reverse in one beat. Hannah peeled out of the driveway, refusing to look back at Will. She drove for miles and miles, the road ahead of her blurry from her tears. She didn’t even know how to get home from here, but she couldn’t stop to find her phone. If she stopped, she’d lose the small ounce of sanity keeping her hands steady on the wheel. If she stayed on this road, it would lead her to a highway eventually.

Will and Madison. Will and fucking Madison. Had this been a joke to them? Some weird foreplay before they decided they were destined for each other. Every moment of the last three months blackened—had any of it been real? The thought alone brought an ache to her chest. It had to be real. 

A horn honked, and a splash of light sparked in her periphery. Hannah jerked the wheel to the right, narrowly avoiding a car in the oncoming lane. Her car screeched onto the shoulder. She threw it into park. Shit. She breathed heavily, trying not to hyperventilate. How was this her life? She screamed in the silence of the car, hitting the steering wheel over and over. Tears stung her eyes. There was no escaping the truth—Will, the last boy she’d truly trusted, had lied to her.

She took a breath. Music, directions, Riley, in that order. Scrolling through her music app, she selected Dashboard Confessional. Lyrics filled the small space.

Next, the unnatural voice of her GPS navigation sounded: “Turn left in one thousand feet.”

Hannah hesitated for only a moment before opening her text exchange with Riley. I’ll be in Boston tomorrow afternoon.

Part 3

Chapter 40Will

Will stared at the note, reading the simple sentence again and again. I took the job in Boston. Hannah hadn’t even signed it. He’d rushed out after her, going back inside only to get dressed and grab Daniel’s keys, but the effort had been fruitless. An accident on the Southern State Parkway had stranded him, and by the time he’d gotten back to the apartment, she’d gone. He knew she was at Kate’s. She had nowhere else to go in the middle of the night. But that note stopped him. Her words echoed in his head—You don’t get to say that to me. I trusted you with everything. The way she’d looked at him, as if she didn’t know who he was anymore, haunted him. Hannah had been the one person who’d never looked at him like that.   

It had been three days with no word from her. He hadn’t been back to work because the energy required was too much. People, namely Jon, were starting to ask questions, but Will didn’t care. It wasn’t his place to tell Jon what Madison had said, what she had done. He no longer owed Jon anything. He knew he needed a story—one grounded in truth—for why he’d left the Hamptons so suddenly and why Hannah was mysteriously absent from New York. At least he could tell the truth on that one—she had taken an unexpected job opportunity in Boston, and they were figuring out the details. They had to figure out the details. That couldn’t be it.

She loved him. She’d said it first and with such weight behind her words. She’d been willing to give up her promotion to be with him. And he’d repaid her by lying and by opening that damned door. The romantic in him wanted to fly to Boston and demand she hear him out. He would confess his love for her, beg her to take him back—whatever it took, he would do it. But her look had killed the romantic. If Hannah had wanted to save their marriage, she would’ve left more than a note, and she wouldn’t have taken Binx.

The apartment door creaked open. Will didn’t even turn toward it, just kept staring at that note. It wasn’t going to be Hannah.