When We're Thirty by Casey Dembowski (beautiful books to read .TXT) 📕

Chapter 41Hannah

Hannah closed the door behind yet another intern candidate. This one had been the worst of the bunch. He didn’t even listen to alternative rock. Technically, it wasn’t a prerequisite, but Hannah needed someone who knew their way around the pop underground. A working knowledge of Coldplay’s discography wasn’t going to cut it. There’d been one promising graduate student. Hannah would call her tomorrow. She didn’t have any energy left to put on the act that she was okay or to pretend she wasn’t crying herself to sleep every night—if she slept at all.

Hannah curled on up on the couch, pulling Binx onto her lap. He hadn’t loved the long car ride, but over a week in, he was adjusting well. He lounged in front of the balcony window by day and slept by her feet at night. Binx purred, the soft vibrations of his small body offering the tiniest of comforts in their strange new habitat.

Nate had secured a two-bedroom sublet in Cambridge, with the second bedroom meant to be the headquarters of Deafening Silence Boston. It was nice, homey, and owned by someone who liked all types of media. The sound system was fancy and new, DVD cases lined the shelves in the living room, and video game consoles from Nintendo to PlayStation were hooked up to the television. She’d even tried her hand at Mario Kart. It had always helped Brian on his worst days. And these were desperate times. To her surprise, it had helped a little.

Hannah turned on the sound system, and Wilderness filled the space. She should’ve attended their anniversary show with the love of her life last week. Instead, she had spent the day unpacking, perusing intern applications, and cuddling with Binx while crying. The rest of the week had been much the same, except she’d had interns to interview and concerts to attend. With only two months in Boston, she had to hit the ground running.

The opening song reached its chorus, and Hannah leaned back against the couch, letting the music wash over her. The music she had loved for a decade both soothed and hurt her. But she wanted to feel that pain. If there was pain, then it had been real. She lay down on the couch, Binx sitting on her chest. He leaned his head into her hand, and she scratched behind his ears the way Will always had.

Will. Pain burst through her. The ache that hadn’t left her chest since she’d seen the pair of them standing together throbbed now. I love you, William.

Why did she have to hear that? Fucking Madison. Madison, who wouldn’t stop calling no matter how many times Hannah sent her to voicemail. Will had stopped calling two days ago. He’d left two voicemails she couldn’t bring herself to listen to, and then yesterday afternoon, he’d texted her a message that broke her heart in its simplicity: I love you, Hannah. She still hadn’t responded. She didn’t know how.

A knock sounded on the door. Hannah stared at the stack of resumes on the coffee table. Had she forgotten about an interview? No, definitely not—she hadn’t been that distracted. Her heart sped up. Will? It would be like him to just show up. He would see it as a grand gesture. But if he was coming to Boston to get her back, he would’ve been there by now.

Or maybe it was one of those pesky cable salesmen. She got up and looked through the peephole. A woman with graying brown hair and a striking resemblance to Hannah stood on the other side of the door. It couldn’t be.

Hannah opened the door and found herself face-to-face with her mother. She blinked a few times, but no, she wasn’t hallucinating from sleep deprivation. Her mother stood in her doorway in Boston on a Tuesday, the busiest day of her mother’s week. If Hannah had ever gotten sick on a Tuesday, she’d been her dad’s problem.

“Your sister is pregnant,” her mother said by way of greeting.

Hannah gripped the doorknob. “I know.”

“Your sister is pregnant, and you’re married.” Her mother looked up at her with a wry smile. “How did I get so old?”

“A twenty-two-year-old called me ma’am today,” Hannah said, stepping back to let her mother in.

“Authority will do that.”

They weren’t a touchy-feely family, but Hannah couldn’t ignore the fact that they hadn’t hugged. Part of her wanted to jump into her mother’s arms and cry her eyes out. Something about her mother’s stance and her first words—about Stephanie—stopped her. It was exactly how she would’ve started a normal conversation, except that she hadn’t returned a single phone call in all this time. There was nothing normal about her showing up in Boston.

“What are you doing here, Mom?”

“I could ask you the same thing,” she said, picking up a picture of Hannah and Kate from the entertainment center.

Hannah counted to three in her head before answering. “I’m working.”

“Where’s your husband?”

“Mom.”

Her mother held up her hands. “What happened, Hannah? Your father told me you two were madly in love—perfect for each other. It hasn’t even been a month since you had lunch, and now you’re in Boston looking like a tractor ran over you, without a single picture of the man in sight.” Her mom stepped toward her and put a hand on her arm.

The simple touch had lasted no more than a few seconds, but each second had felt like an eternity. Tears welled in Hannah’s eyes. She didn’t want to tell her mom about Will like that. She’d wanted a happy family event, with laughter and storytelling and everyone important around her. Their love had deserved that. But after everything that had happened, Hannah didn’t have that luxury.

“You can talk to me, honey.” Her mother took a seat on the couch and motioned for Hannah to follow suit.

“I don’t know if I can, Mom.”

“Don’t be ridiculous. What did you think I was going to do when you showed up at our house