The One You Can't Forget (The One, #1)

eleven

Emyln

The final customer exits the modernized building, and Hainsey flips the 'OPEN' sign to 'CLOSED.' I lean against the desk, close my eyes, and breathe a sigh of relief. I'm exhausted from the tour today. I keep thanking myself over and over again for staying in shape after I stopped playing hockey.

I open my eyes and look around the building. Hainsey is readjusting the alignment of one of the many mountain bikes that's hanging from a bike rack. There's a determined expression on his face: a crease between his brows, tongue sticking out, and eyes blaring with concentration. All the mountain biking and working outside has tanned his skin, and his cheeks are bruised pink with sunburn. There are also dark half-moons under his eyes that I want to brush away. Ever since I ran into him in my own house, I've noticed that Hainsey has a certain sadness hanging over him. I squint at him. No. Wait. Maybe it's not sadness. It looks more like hopelessness; like he's lost the sparkle that usually resides deep within the alluring grey of his irises. He also doesn't smile like he used to. When he does, I can tell it's forced. How long has he been like this? Did I really cause him this much pain?

I want to bring back the old Hains, the one who was willing to try anything, the killer slap shot, the charming grin, and great sense of humour that could break anyone's frown. I want to kiss him and breathe life back into him. Because this Hains, although he looks healthy, is suffering. He's a broken imitation of the Hains I once knew. Is there a way to bring the spark back? Was I the main cause? Or was it the sum of everything that happened to him? Of everything that should've happened but didn't?

There's a rental helmet that's fallen to the floor just to the left of him and I saunter toward it. I can tell he notices me, but he doesn't say anything. And I wait, wondering if he can feel it too – that pull I've been feeling ever since he strolled into the kitchen on the night I arrived. He probably doesn't. That would be the reason as to why he's always walking away from me or refusing to look me directly in the eye for more than two seconds.

Just as I'm about to walk away from where we keep the helmets, he stands beside me – further than my arm can reach, but it's still something.

He says nothing, and we just stand there. I sneak a quick glance at him. He's staring out the window at the lovely view of the pine forest that spreads in front of us. I can't tell if he's thinking; if he's trying to find the right words to say to me. Deep down he must know that we need to discuss what happened between us. Leaving problems behind, left to rot in the past, is a bad thing to do. I mean, look and my mom and I. I can't let that happen to me and Hains.

"I'm sorry about your parents," I blurt after another minute. It's a stupid thing for me to say, but it's also common ground between us. We both know the level of devastation a divorce can cause. Maybe the very thing that tore our lives apart is what can mend us together again.

Hainsey looks at me, a look of panic on his face.

"I heard what happened – how your dad was cheating on your mom with someone that was a couple years older than us." I shake my head. Stupid stupid stupid. He told me himself! What the hell am I doing? "They're married now?" I continue quickly.