Through the Lens

Made It

Hailey's POV

I closed my eyes tightly as I hung up the phone, tears streaming down my face as I did my best to choke back the sobs that tried to escape my chest. I turned toward the window as much as I could to shield my face from the hundreds of other people on that plane, not wanting to make a complete idiot out of myself for the second time that day. I'd never quite felt pain like that before, feeling like my insides were being pulled from my body as they ached and churned inside me. I felt like I could melt into a puddle of nothing on the floor, wanting nothing more than to run back to the comfort of home instead of being on a plane bound for a place full of strangers.

I don't know at what point I realized he wasn't coming. At first I'd thought that I was early, that maybe he was stuck in traffic or something, and I was perfectly content to just look out at the ocean and soak it all in. It wasn't until Rob started to check on me more often with that sympathetic look that I realized he really was late, and I just told myself there was no way he'd stand me up. I checked my phone repeatedly for any calls or texts letting me know he was on his way, but nothing came. No sign of him for three and a half hours as I sat there like an idiot waiting for him, swearing to myself that there was no way he wasn't coming. I waited so long that I almost missed my flight, desperate to prove to myself that I meant more to him than that.

I pushed it to the very last minute, still thinking that maybe he'd pull up as I got in the cab, but he didn't. I'd shoved my phone in my purse and put it on silent, knowing that any time it made any kind of noise I'd still wish it was him and I couldn't take it when it wasn't. I'd honestly thought that he was as excited to see me as I was to see him and I'd finally reached a point where I was ready to tell him how I felt, that I wanted to be with him, and I was left sitting there alone without so much as a text. Maybe he was getting back at me for hurting him, maybe he just wanted me to feel as shitty as I'd made him feel, and if that was his plan, it worked.

I don't even know why I answered the phone when I saw it was ringing. I'd pulled it out to turn it off for the flight and saw someone was calling. I recognized the California area code and I guess I just wanted to know if he'd finally had the decency to call. I suppose I wanted to prove to myself that deep down he had enough respect for me to at least explain himself, but the sound of his voice just left me aching in every inch of my body and all I wanted to do was get off the phone. I couldn't face him, or the reality that he'd stood me up right when I was finally ready, whether it was on the phone or not. I couldn't hear his voice apologizing and acting like he hadn't just ripped my heart out and stomped all over it, I couldn't pretend like he hadn't just reminded me why I was so scared to tell him in the first place.

So, I did what I always did. I pretended that I was fine, that I didn't care, that I wasn't upset. I knew he knew me well enough to know better, but I knew once I got off the phone I had a really good excuse not to talk to him for six months, and at that point I felt like I needed that. I realized I needed time away, to sort myself out, and maybe telling Harry how I felt hadn't been the right idea in the first place. If I'd told him how I felt and asked him to wait for me, I would have spent the whole time just waiting to get back to him. Now that I knew he obviously didn't want to see me as much as I wanted to see him, I could go into this new chapter and focus on myself and who I am on my own, without the idea of Harry and I hanging over me. I told myself I didn't need him, and although I knew it was a lie, being angry with him helped numb the sting of his rejection.

I guess if nothing else the nine-hour flight gave me time to think, and I couldn't decipher if that was a good thing or not. By the time I landed, I'd realized that I'd done it. I'd said goodbye to my family and not had a complete meltdown, I'd done my part to make things right with Harry before I left, and even though he'd stood me up I'd still tried to face my fear. Even though it hurt to breathe and it felt like my heart had crumbled in my chest, I somehow knew that I would survive. I knew that I was about to do something for me, just me, and I found a strange sense of liberation in that.