Hard Fall by Brenda Rothert

Chapter Twenty-Two

Hadley

I was finally back in the office at Willow, which was located in a suite of offices on the fourth floor of a downtown high-rise. My lips turned up in a small smile as I walked down the hallway to the break room and saw my reflection in a mirror hanging on the wall.

No makeup. Messy bun. Fuck you, Liz.

It was my first day back at work, and this was the last place I wanted to be. Since leaving St. Louis to come home, everything felt heavy and quiet. Since I had to end my lease on my studio apartment when I moved to St. Louis, I was staying in a hotel for now, and there was silence all the time. No baby coos or toddler belly laughs. No goofy questions from Annalise and no middle of the night wake-up cries from Benny.

And no Wes to hold me when I cried about all of it. Of all the days I should have chosen to put on some makeup, today called for it. There were dark circles lining my puffy eyes and I looked pale. I was emotionally spent, though, and I wasn’t going to put on lipstick or mascara and doll myself up to give Liz the impression she’d won.

“Hadley!” my colleague Rona West said as I walked into the employee break room. “It’s so good to see you.”

I hugged her, squeezing my eyes closed and trying to imagine it was Wes. She was much smaller than him, though, and he didn’t wear perfume laced with lemon notes.

“How are the kids?” she asked me.

“They’re good.”

I used my tone, and my lack of eye contact, to send her the message that I wasn’t in a good place to talk about the kids. I was pretty sure I’d lose my shit and burst into tears if I did.

“Well, if there’s anything I can do to help out, just let me know,” she said softly. “Really, Hadley. My wife is traveling for work this week and the house is too quiet, so I’ll be working a lot. If you need to get anything off your plate, just slide it onto mine.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it.”

“Hadley!”

Two more coworkers entered the room, one of them bearing two boxes filled with my favorite donuts to celebrate my return. When I opened it and the sweet, sugary scent wafted out, I smiled fully for the first time since leaving the kids.

“Ugh, those things are loaded with sugar,” Liz said as she walked into the break room.

I grabbed a donut and took a huge bite out of it.

“Delicious,” I said, looking right at my boss.

She held my gaze for a few seconds before saying, “Welcome back, Hadley. You’re in the office across from mine now. And you can hit up the swag room for makeup if you want to make yourself look a little more presentable.”

The office across from hers was smaller than the one I’d earned my way into two years ago, but that wasn’t the reason it was the least favorite office of all the editors. Being across from Liz put you in her direct line of sight, and every time she was pissed off, which was often, whoever was in that office would take the brunt of her ire.

“Guess I’d better get started moving my stuff,” I said.

“Oh, it’s already done. Sierra moved into your old office last month.”

I pursed my lips as I imagined the maintenance guy dumping the drawers filled with my personal items into boxes. And Liz hadn’t even mentioned it until now.

Before, I would have been angry about something like this for weeks. I’d have gone straight into my office to line up drinks with coworkers tonight so I could vent about our reptilian boss.

But I didn’t have it in me to care much anymore, though. My worries about Annalise and Benny were more important. Wes and I had told her we’d only be gone for two weeks. She didn’t know that when I came back for the next hearing, I’d have to leave again soon after. Permanently.

At least they’d be with Wes instead of Susan and Patrick, but even that wasn’t much of a consolation. The kids had started to feel like part of me, and Wes and I had become a team. I’d spent so many years hating him without really knowing him, and I wanted to make up for my mistakes.

I was facing the age-old dilemma of so many other women—not enough of me to go around. I wanted to be in St. Louis with Wes and the kids, but I also wanted to be here in New York hanging on to the job I’d worked so hard to get. Liz wouldn’t be the executive editor here forever. I’d planned on getting her job when she left, and I’d be a very different kind of boss.

For now, though, I just had to survive. I went into my new, windowless office and sat down behind the desk.

Forcing thoughts of the kids from my mind, I got my laptop out and opened my email, hoping to bury myself in work. The first day would be the hardest.

It turned out to be harder than I thought. I couldn’t stop thinking about how I’d get to see the kids when I went back to St. Louis for the hearing, but not for long enough. I couldn’t bear the thought of saying goodbye to them over and over, every time I visited and had to return to New York.

I wanted Wes. No one else could understand how I felt. I’d left him, though. I’d left him at a time when it wasn’t just me hurting, but him, too.

The judge was right, though. What we were doing wouldn’t have worked forever.

This whole thing was just fucked. Horrible. My chest ached and tears welled in my eyes as I wished I could talk things through with Lauren. I couldn’t, though. I had a matter of days to make the biggest decision of my life—whether to quit my job and go back to St. Louis to be with the kids, and take a leap of faith that Wes wouldn’t eventually crush my heart—and I was entirely alone in making it.

Later that night,I walked into my vacant hotel room, a paper bag in hand with my dinner. I looked at photos on my phone as I ate the pastrami on rye.

There were photos of Annalise and me at a St. Louis museum, of Benny grinning at Wes while he made a funny face, of the four of us clowning around, and of the kids in their jammies right after bath time. If only I could reach into the photos and hug them.

For the first time since Ben and Lauren died, I kept scrolling until I found some pictures that included them. Tears pooled in my eyes as I saw a picture of all of us from this past Christmas, one of me, Lauren, Ben and Wes all wearing ugly sweaters. We were all so carefree that day, none of us having any idea what was about to happen. There was a photo of Annalise opening the Barbie Jeep Uncle Wes had gotten her, her eyes sparkling and her mouth wide with surprise.

I kept scrolling, letting the tears fall. There was a photo of Lauren holding Benny right after he was born, her smiling joyfully and him bundled up in a blanket with only his tiny face visible. I let out a small sob when I saw one she’d texted me one day of Ben sitting with Annalise at her play table for a tea party. She’d written that seeing her big husband sitting like that, his knees higher than the top of the table, made her want to jump him and make more babies immediately.

I wanted to talk to her so badly, even for a couple minutes. To hug her and ask her what I should do. I’d never be able to get advice from my best friend again, though. All I had were memories.

Memories, and also the letter the attorney had given me at the reading of the will, which I still hadn’t been able to bring myself to open.

My heart pounded hard as I stood up and went over to one of my suitcases, where the letter was tucked safely into a side pocket. As much as it hurt to know the last words Lauren would ever say to me were inside the white envelope I held in my shaking hands, I needed Lauren more right now than ever before.

I took a deep breath, let it out slowly, and opened the sealed envelope, taking out the letter and sitting on the edge of the bed to read it.

Dear Hadley,

I hope you never have to read this. I hope someday, when we’re both in our nineties and living our best lives as roommates in a nursing home, I can tell you about this letter and we can laugh about it together. Over margaritas, of course, because we’ll still be living it up then.

This is so hard. I’ve been putting off writing this for so long because just thinking about it makes me cry. But I have to do it, so don’t mind the tear stains on the pages.

If you’re reading this, Ben and I are both dead. I usually cope with difficult conversations by using sarcasm, but this time, I’ve got nothing. Before Annalise was born, I would have had all the jokes. But now, the thought of her being alone in this world without her parents is too painful. It’s unimaginable.

Ben and I want you and Wes to raise our baby girl, and any other kids we might have. I know it’s a shock, and I’m sorry. We went back and forth a lot over whether we should ask you guys if you even want to do it, but we come back to the same decision every time—it has to be you guys. We can’t risk you guys trying to talk us out of it, because the next option is Ben’s parents, and we don’t want that.

If our babies can’t have me and Ben, we want them to have you guys. I know you and Wes don’t get along and you’re probably reeling as you read this, wondering how this could ever work. But it will, Hadley. It will. Ben and I know the two of you better than anyone.

You’re a lot like Ben. Practical and organized. Devoted, caring and hardworking. You’re also a nurturer, even though you probably don’t think so. You’re like me in that way, but mostly, I’m like Wes. I let the little stuff go. I love to laugh and I don’t take things too seriously unless I have to. I take chances. Like Ben and I, you and Wes balance each other out.

Maybe one of you is married by now. Maybe both of you are. Maybe you have kids of your own. I would actually love for my kids to have other kids to grow up with. Ben and I wanted to give you and Wes room to decide which of you would be best for the kids, if it comes to that. But as crazy as it sounds, my gut tells me you guys can find a way to do it together. It’s such a huge thing to ask of you both. But I’d do it for you, in a heartbeat, and Ben would do it for Wes. We love the two of you and you’re our family.

Don’t feel like you have to try to replace me. I want you to raise my kids because you’re you, not me. Love them your way. Don’t quit your job and take up organic gardening unless you truly want to. You are a wonderful role model exactly as you are. Don’t be too hard on Wes. He’s a great guy, and I hope you get a chance to see why Ben and I love him so much.

Read to my kids. There’s a box in the basement of all my favorite childhood books. Please read all of them with my babies and tell them how much those books meant to their mommy. Snuggle them often. Cheer them on and remind them that everyone makes mistakes. Just love them and try to help them know who their parents were and how much we love them.

I can’t keep writing, I’m crying so hard I’ve given myself a headache. Just know that I love you and Wes so dearly, and I know our daughter and any other children we might have are in the best hands.

Lauren

I readthe letter three times before folding it up and placing it back in the envelope. I walked into the bathroom to wash the tears from my cheeks and as I looked at my reflection in the mirror, eyes puffy and hair escaping from my ponytail, I felt more lost than ever. I’d let Lauren down. Her babies needed me, and when things had gotten hard, I’d run back to New York, convincing myself there was no other way.

I couldn’t have it all. I had to make a choice—my career at Willow, or the kids and the possibility of a relationship with Wes. And I had to make that choice now.