Page 24 of Playing Hard to Hate

TATUM

PRESENT

Dustin was being unusually annoying this trip.

Not only did he continue to press me for information about Griffin after he left, but he then wanted to go through every gory detail of last night, only to refuse to tell me about what sickness Dad had.

He hadn’t changed at all. Not like I expected a miracle overnight or anything, but it would be nice if he got to the point of his visit.

He was also insisting on celebrating Mom’s life at dinner tonight.

After the night I had, the last thing I wanted to do was sit with him at dinner and talk about Mom.

The worst part is that until he walked through the door, I had forgotten what today was.

Guilt swallowed me whole as I got ready for dinner, not that I had much appetite, but Dustin insisted we needed to do this.

I missed her so much.

I wished more than anything I could have told her about last night.

I longed to wrap my arms around her.

Today marked four years since she took her own life and fourteen years since Dad ruined our family .

While applying my makeup, I let my mind wander. It drifted over memories from the last twenty-four hours. The same fear from last night crept into my bones as I let my mind focus on those few horrific minutes. My hand shook as I swiped highlighter across my cheekbones.

If Griffin hadn’t been there, I might have died.

He’d been strong and commanding. There wasn’t an ounce of fear in his body like it had seized mine.

His tone was confident, his arms held me up when the world shattered, and now my heart was so confused.

He did things, said things—things that alluded to him caring about me, but how could he? How could he care when he’d treated me so terribly? How could he care for me when he’d been the one to leave?

“You ready?” Dustin poked his head into my room as I brushed the tangles out of my wet hair.

“Need ten more minutes,” I said, looking at him through my mirror. He nodded and disappeared, leaving me alone with memories I couldn’t seem to shake no matter how hard I tried.

Mom used to brush my hair as a little girl. She’d sing a silly tune and get louder as she put the hair dryer on. Together, we’d scream the lyrics to whatever song she had started singing, and all was perfect in the world.

I wanted to be that little girl again. The one whose laughter was endless, the one who didn’t see the failed marriage, the one whose dreams were endless, and her fears were only of spiders and snakes.

Sometimes, I was terrified to close my eyes, scared to relive memories of her, memories I would chase, only for them to disappear just as I got close enough to grab them. I dried my hair, watching my reflection in the mirror, looking for the little girl I used to be.

Ten minutes later, I picked up Mom’s perfume bottle. It was half full, and I absolutely feared the day it would run out because, of course, this scent had to be discontinued.

I sprayed one squirt on my wrist and inhaled the sweet, rich aroma, instantly at peace.

“I miss you, Mom,” I whispered, closing my eyes and longing to feel her arms wrap around me, to ease the gaping hole in my chest that seemed to only get bigger every year. Grief was always hard to cope with, but on anniversaries, it was even harder.

I still couldn’t believe I had forgotten it this morning. Griffin had the habit of making me forget everything. It used to be one of the things I loved most about him as a kid.

He always made me forget the bad moments, mostly because he was always making me laugh.

I sipped on the light pink Moscato Dustin had ordered for us to share. He toasted to Mom like he actually cared while I was breaking inside. This was the last place I wanted to be tonight. The fucking last.

“You and Griffin, huh?” He wiggled his brows, and I fought the deep urge to throw my very sweet wine into his face and walk out. He’d never been part of my life, and now he wanted to act like he knew everything about Griff and me. It was infuriating.

“Why are you here, Dustin?”

He cleared his throat and looked down at his menu before looking at me and holding my gaze.

“To celebrate Mom. ”

“Bullshit.”

“I regret what I did, Tate. I regret not visiting and being there for you and her. I wanted to do this with you.”

“It doesn’t make up for it, Dustin! You packed up your things and left that house like it was beneath you.

She was working double shifts to keep a roof over our heads.

She cried for days after you left. She would walk into your barren room, sit on the bed, and sob.

And guess who was there to pick up the pieces?

And you know what? I was just a kid. A freaking kid, Dustin. ”

“Tate, please keep your voice down.” I looked around, noticing a few people looking over at our table. My cheeks instantly heated in embarrassment, but I was so mad, so angry at Dustin, so infuriated with Dad, at the whole fucking situation.

“No, you need to hear this, and I don’t care if the whole restaurant hears with you.

Dad cheated on Mom for years. Cheated on her.

Do you know what that does to a person? It leaves them feeling absolutely fucking worthless.

He did that to our mother. He broke her, and then he left, right before my birthday.

He never called, never sent a gift, nothing, Dustin!

Years passed and nothing! Then you leave, just like him.

You don’t call. You don’t visit. You just disappear. ” My heart is racing.

My hands tremble with the rage I can barely keep contained. Mom deserved so much better.

I deserved so much better.

“Then she killed herself. She…she…she took her own life because of how much pain she…she…was in.” Tears clouded my vision, and I furiously blinked, needing to stay strong even though my voice shook. I choked on the words as I tried to get out every little thought I’d ever kept quiet.

“Tate.” Dustin reached for me, but I scooted back, my chair scraping loudly against the floor.

“You came here for a stupid dinner to celebrate her life? What is there to fucking celebrate? She’s gone, Dustin, and she was fucking miserable when she was alive.

You might have regrets, but too little too fucking late.

She’s gone, and I’ve been alone since the day she died, but no one seems to care about me.

No, it’s all about Dad, and how he’s sick.

Do you think I actually care if he’s sick?

Do you think, on the day that my mother died, I want to hear about his illness?

Have you lost your fucking mind, Dustin? ”

I stood on shaky legs, downed the last of my wine, and then grabbed my bag and walked out of the stupid restaurant where every single pair of eyes was on me.

My heels clicked obnoxiously against the fancy tiles, and I wished I could yank them off and run out of the room, but a lady never breaks in front of people.

Mom had drummed that one into my head more times than I could count.

So I sat on the curb outside the fancy restaurant that Mom would have hated.

And I fell apart. Broken sobs escaped my parted lips as silent screams ripped from my chest. “No, no, no.” The words, so soft, fell from my lips as I wrapped my arms around my trembling body, shaking with the sobs.

Mom’s perfume, which used to be a soothing scent, only acted as a reminder that she was gone and intensified the pain.

I could sense Dustin behind me. It took him a second before he wrapped his arms around me and held me to his chest. No whispered words of comfort, just his arms like steel bands around my body that shook so violently I was sure it couldn’t get uglier than this.

Dustin took me home, and we ate leftover pizza from the night before. He didn’t talk. We moved in silence, and it was soothing to my aching soul in the best kind of way .

Tonight had been healing for me. I had finally found the courage to tell him everything.

“Dad has prostate cancer,” Dustin blurted out as he flicked the TV on, and the local news channel started up.

My eyes darted from the screen to him and then back as I noticed the headline.

Local Hero Pro Baseball Star Griffin Silver Saves Childhood Friend in Grocery Store Robbery.

Footage of the grocery store from the other night with police tape and sirens in the background ran, and then Griffin’s beautiful face was on the corner of the screen.

A female reporter was on site, and I wondered how on earth I had missed this.

“Good evening. It was a shocking and terrifying scene at Newsom Creek’s small-town grocery store last night when an armed robbery turned into a life-and-death situation.

The suspects held a local woman at gunpoint inside the store, demanding cash and threatening her life.

But in a twist of fate, help arrived in the form of one of the town’s most famous faces, pro baseball player Griffin Silver. ”

The scene changed, and it was a blurry image of Griffin outside the store, police cars in the background. I hated this. It was all so public.

The screen flashed back to the reporter, who was staring intensely into the camera.

“Silver, an up-and-coming star of the Atlanta Braves, was in town visiting family when he became a witness to the frightening ordeal. But what happened next has everyone talking. According to witnesses, Silver didn’t hesitate.

He rushed to confront the gunman in a desperate attempt to save his childhood best friend, Tatum Grace. ”

This wasn’t fucking happening .

“While Silver’s actions certainly saved the life of Grace, this incident has already put the pro athlete in the spotlight once again.”

The screen changed again to the town’s sheriff, and I rolled my eyes as he stood at attention, hands on hips, trying to hide his beer and donut belly. There wasn’t much crime in town, so he did, in fact, spend far too much time at the local 24/7 diner.

“We’re grateful for Mr. Silver’s quick thinking, but we are asking the public to stay calm while the investigation continues.”

What the fuck is that supposed to mean?

And, of course, the camera goes back to the reporter, living her one and only moment in the spotlight.

As I mentioned earlier, it was a pretty dead town.

“With the town still reeling from the shocking crime and the heroic actions that followed, many are left wondering: Is Griffin Silver a hometown hero or someone who might’ve put himself and others in harm’s way?

We’ll keep you updated as more details unfold. ”

Dustin turned off the TV, and I immediately jerked my head to him.

“What the fuck!” I screamed, not even thinking because I needed to see more. They were trying to make Griffin out as a problem now? That would jeopardize his career!

“You don’t need any more stress tonight,” he said calmly and all authoritative-like, like he hadn’t just dropped a huge fucking bomb on me.

My phone rang, and I saw Millie’s picture flash.

“You dropped a fucking bomb on me.” I pointed at him as I answered and pressed the phone to my ear.

“Oh my god! You were on the news!” Millie screamed. Yes, screamed.

“I wasn’t. Griffin was.”

“Same thing! Do you feel any different? Do you feel famous? ”

“You’re an idiot.” I couldn’t help but smile at her craziness.

“Trying to lighten the mood. Today must have been really hard on you. With everything that happened last night and your mom’s anniversary, I can’t imagine what you’re going through.”

“Oh, and it gets better. Dustin is here, and guess what, Mills? My dad has cancer.” She gasped as Dustin glared at me. “I need to go. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Are you okay?”

“I will be.”

“Love you forever, girl. Don’t you forget it.”

“Love you more, Mils.”

I hung up and looked at Dustin, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Now, what the fuck were you saying?”