Broken Records | Tayley

Chapter 24: Unspoken

Taylor's POV

When we stepped through the front door, I instantly knew something was off. It wasn't anything Hayley said—she didn't really say much at all—but there was this weight in the air, something unspoken that settled between us. I held her close, one arm wrapped around her waist as I nudged the door shut behind us.

"Home sweet home," I said, trying to lighten the mood, but the words fell flat.

She managed a small smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. Those eyes that usually held so much light and warmth seemed dimmer, clouded over with something I couldn't quite place. I set her bags down in the hallway and asked, "You want some tea?"

She shook her head, her gaze drifting over the room like she was seeing it for the very first time, or maybe, seeing it differently now. "No, I think I just want to lie down for a bit."

"Sure," I said, reaching for her hand. It felt cold in mine, and that sent a little jolt of worry through me. She let me lead her to the bedroom, where she kicked off her shoes and changed into a loose t-shirt and shorts. I followed her, pulling off my own clothes and slipping under the covers beside her.

She curled up against me, but there was a stiffness in her body that wasn't usually there. She rested her head on my chest, but it didn't feel like she was really there with me. She was lost in her own thoughts.

We lay in silence, the only sound was our breathing, synchronized but somehow out of sync at the same time. I could feel the tension in her, the way she was curled up like she was trying to protect herself from something. I wanted to ask her what was wrong, to make it better, but I didn't know how.

Eventually, we found each other, our lips meeting in a soft, tentative kiss. It deepened quickly, turning into something more desperate, like we were both trying to find a connection through the physical when the emotional felt so far away. Even when we were lost in each other, there was a part of her that seemed miles away, like I was holding her but couldn't quite reach her.

Afterward, we lay in the dark, the only source of light being the bedside lamp on her side of the bed, our bodies still tangled together, her head resting on my shoulder. I traced the outline of the flowers tattooed just above her hip. I've always loved that tattoo. It's beautiful, just like her, delicate but with a strength beneath it. I let my fingers follow the lines, hoping the familiar motion would bring her some comfort, maybe even bring her back to me.

But she was quiet, her eyes staring down at my chest, lost in thought. I could feel the weight of whatever was on her mind pressing down on both of us.

"Hayley?" I whispered, not wanting to break the silence but needing to know she was okay.

She didn't answer right away, and when she did, her voice was so soft it was almost like she wasn't sure she wanted to say it out loud. "Hmm?"

"You okay?"

She shifted, pulling the sheets closer around her. "Yeah, just... tired, I guess. It was a long trip."

I didn't believe her. I knew there was more going on in her head than just exhaustion, but I also knew better than to push her when she wasn't ready to talk. Still, it was hard to keep the worry from gnawing at me.

I kept tracing the lines of her tattoo, trying to tell her without words that I was here, that whatever was going on in her head, she didn't have to go through it alone. I could feel the tension in her shoulders, the way she seemed to be holding onto something so tightly, and it made my chest ache. This was supposed to be the place where she could let go, where she didn't have to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders. But tonight, it felt like that weight had followed her home, and I didn't know how to lift it off her.

"You're safe here," I murmured, hoping the words would somehow break through the wall that had gone up between us. "Whatever it is, you don't have to carry it alone."

She didn't say anything, just buried her face in the crook of my neck and breathed out a soft sigh. I felt her body relax a little against mine, but there was still that distance, that space between us that I couldn't seem to bridge.

"Thank you," she finally whispered, so quietly I almost didn't hear it.

She fell asleep not long after that, her breathing evening out, her body finally relaxing into mine. But I stayed awake, staring up at the ceiling, my mind racing with thoughts I couldn't seem to quiet.

I kept thinking about the way she'd looked at me when we walked through the door, like something had changed, like she was here but not really here. I replayed the past few days in my head, searching for something I might have missed, some sign that she was struggling. But all I could come up with were more questions, more uncertainty.

The room was quiet, the kind of quiet that felt too heavy, too loaded with everything that was left unsaid. I could feel the tension in my own body, the way my muscles were wound tight with worry and frustration. I wanted to reach for her, to pull her closer and somehow make it all okay, but I knew that wasn't what she needed right now.

Whatever was going on in her head, it felt like a wall had gone up between us, and I didn't know how to bring it down. I closed my eyes, trying to focus on the steady rhythm of her breathing, but even that didn't bring the usual calm it did. All I could think about was the way she'd seemed so distant, so far away even when she was lying right here in my arms.

I pressed a kiss to the top of her head, whispering a silent promise to myself that I would do whatever it took to help her through this, even if that meant just being here, quietly waiting for her to let me in. But as I lay there, listening to her breathe, I couldn't shake the feeling that something was shifting between us, and I had no idea how to stop it.

It was a helpless feeling, one I wasn't used to. I was always the one who could fix things, who could find a way to make it better. But this... this was different. This was Hayley, and whatever she was going through, it wasn't something I could just fix with a few comforting words or a reassuring touch.

Eventually, exhaustion took over, and I drifted off to sleep, my arms still wrapped around her, holding on tight to the one thing I knew for sure: I wasn't going to let her go through this alone. Whatever it was, whatever had caused this distance between us, I was going to be there for her, no matter how long it took.