perfect times → EMMETT CULLEN ✓

e l e v e n

CHAPTER ELEVEN
❝ feelings ❞

HAYDEN MAKES HER way outside, watching with narrowed eyes as her parents' car pulls into the driveway. Her mother makes eye contact with her through the window, but the girl refuses to stare any longer. Instead, she moves towards Emmett's jeep, clenching her hands into fists and counting backwards from ten.

It was a hurried motion as her mother gets out of the passenger seat, then begins to speak to Hayden. "Can we talk, dear?"

"I have places to be and people to see," the brunette says calmly, her voice quiet. "You can go inside, Mother. I should be home before dark‒ but don't wait up."

Hayden could feel her chest tightening; is this what her relationship with her parents had evolved into? It was a terrible feeling to know that, at one point in time, her bond with them was unbreakable. But it had all led up to this‒ Hayden leaving them behind every chance she got. They deserved it though, didn't they?

Emmett sits in his car, gripping the steering wheel with a light force. He kept his face clear, though, and held back the urge to get out of the car and tell Hayden that things would be alright. Everything inside him told him to take her away from this toxic home; it was the main cause of her pain. And, if he had anything to do with it, Hayden would never be harmed again.

"Hayden, please," Amberley begs, running a hand down her face. "Don't be like this, just come inside and we can work this out."

By now, Hayden's father was out of the car, resting a careful hand on Amberley's back‒ that flared the girl's anger.

"I need to get away from everything for a bit," the girl mocks her mother, not holding back her glare. "You see, I have this rare occasion where I can stop thinking about how many times you've forgotten about me, and I just need to take the opportunity to rest. I assume you understand, considering how often you abandon me."

Emmett would've laughed if this wasn't such a serious moment; Hayden was standing up to her mother like she had wanted to. And this time, unlike the previous time, she wasn't holding back how she felt.

"Do you know how many times I've lied awake at night, questioning myself for the explanation as to why you leave?" Her voice quivered now, and it was obvious she would cry if she kept going. "Because for some odd reason, I sometimes think it's my fault that the two of you have utterly screwed up as parents! I blame your absence on my carelessness for sharing feelings, or for my hatred towards your jobs.

"But I've realized now," she pauses, closing her eyes for a moment, "that this is all your fault, and you need to know that I haven't done anything to push you away. I've attempted to find my way back to you, to communicate and offer up opportunities to break whatever boundaries the two of you built. It's obvious none of that is possible anymore."