Hate to Love You - Chapter 60: Chapter 60

Hannah
As soon as Beth laid eyes on them, it was like all the hope and fight drained from her body. She seemed to give up and go quiet as the officers escorted her away, silent tears staining her cheeks as they half-carried her out the door.
After she was put in the back of the police cab, the girls and I gave the two cops a breakdown of what happened. I made sure to tell them everything I knew, hoping they'd be able to help her. But when I asked them if they were going to help her — because she really needed it — the man just said that they would be contacting her parents to come get her, and that I was more than welcome to press charges if I still feared for my life. Alternatively, he recommended getting a restraining order.
His words made it harder to watch them take her away. I felt a sharp pang of regret that the police were involved, especially since it seemed like the two officers perceived our situation as nothing more than a petty squabble between college girls over the same guy — and that today had gotten a little out of hand. At least he said he'd talk to her about laying abuse charges against Dylan. Not that she would.
The whole situation felt hopeless.
Jenny sidled up next to me as we watched the cops drive away from the front porch. "I can tell you're feeling guilty, but you shouldn't. She attacked you — you're the victim in all this. We did the right thing by calling the cops."
Victim. There was that word again, and this time it was being directed at me. I understood why Tristan hated it so much.
"Did we?" Because it didn't feel like it.
"What else could we have done? We can't help someone who doesn't want help, and none of us are equipped to give her what she needs."
She had a point. In fact, I only escaped Dylan's influence when I was forcefully removed and kept away from him. It was going to be a lot harder for her considering they were family.
"I just think she's not going to get the help she needs," I said, rubbing my sore throat. "She still loves him. I couldn't get through to her."
And I felt like I was letting myself down by not helping her. I felt like I owed it to my younger self to do something.
"Maybe you did, and maybe her parents will do something when they find out about this. She's probably going to the hospital soon and I'm pretty sure they'll do a psychiatric evaluation." She placed a hand on my shoulder. "Speaking of hospitals, we should head there now. Molly's getting antsy about possibly having rabies, and you're looking really pale."
I went to nod, but the movement sent sharp pains through my head. "Sure. I'm ready whenever you are," I replied instead.
With a kind smile, Jenny retreated back inside.
The cop had recommended that we go get checked out at the hospital — especially because I'd hit my head and was dizzy and tired. And then, surprisingly, Amanda offered to drive us to the hospital. I said nothing when the others agreed, choosing to go along with it.
I was already dreading the phone call I was going to have to make to my dad considering I was on his medical insurance. Inevitably, he'd tell my mom — so I knew she'd be here as soon as she could come. I might as well bite the bullet and phone her myself. I sighed and tried to remember where I'd put my phone.
"Shit," I muttered under my breath as I remembered where it was. I reached into my sweatpants' back pockets and retrieved it, groaning when I saw the state of it.
The screen was cracked and it wouldn't turn on. I'd have to ask one of the girls if I could borrow their phone to call my parents.
I sighed again. This day felt like it was only going to get worse.
°•°•°•°
I had a concussion. And a neck sprain.
Thankfully, the doctor assured me that neither of my injuries was too severe. As long as I took it easy, avoided screens, and refrained from exerting myself, I would be fine. However, I was rapidly losing my voice, and the doctor warned me that by tomorrow, I probably wouldn't be able to talk. He said that it could take up to two weeks for a full recovery, but I would likely regain my voice after a couple of days.
Molly got her bite cleaned and received a rabies and tetanus shot despite the nurse's attempts to assure her it wasn't necessary. Currently, she was waiting outside with Jenny and Amanda, while my mother hovered inside the hospital room with me. I hadn't had the chance to speak with them yet.
"Are you sure she should be taking these? I don't really trust these sorts of drugs — they weren't made by the Lord. Only big, greedy corporations that want to get people addicted to them. Is there a risk she'll become addicted if she takes them?" My mother asked, causing a visible twitch in the nurse's eye.
She had steadily been getting on the nurse's every nerve, but props to her — the girl kept her cool.
"Not if she takes them responsibly, and not for a long period of time," she reassured my mother as she finished checking my IV bag.
"Mom," I croaked, prompting her to look at me. "I'll be fine. If I get addicted, you can send me to rehab. I won't even resist."
She pursed her lips while the nurse chortled in amusement, turning her attention back to where I sat on the hospital bed. The burnt orange cardigan she wore made her look like a pumpkin. And today, her hair was pinned back into a painfully tight bun.
"I just want the best for you," My mother said, "You heard what the doctor said — all you need is rest."
I had to resist the urge to roll my eyes. "He didn't mean I couldn't take pain medication while I rested. Why do you think he prescribed them to me?" Not waiting for her response, I quickly changed the subject. "Where's Dad and Jace?"
It worked.
"Your brother's at his football game, and your father went to pick him up. I couldn't make it today because I had to attend a church event. It's for raising funds so our pastor can visit the Maldives and spread the word of Christ," she explained, clearing her throat. "They'll be here as soon as they can. Though, I do wonder if your father will bring that new floozy of his." Her nose wrinkled with disgust, as it always did when she mentioned my dad.
I doubted it. My dad wouldn't want to subject her to my mother, not in these circumstances. "You didn't have to pull Jace from his game — it's not like I'm dying."
She did not like me saying that, but I was saved from her impending lecture when the nurse handed me a medicine cup with three different pills in it. I couldn't help but notice the pitying look she gave me, but I brushed it off. Years with my mother had left me immune to such sentiments. It was because my mother was like this, that I strived to be the opposite.
"Try and swallow all of these. They should start to take effect in a few minutes. You can go home soon to rest — there's just a few more things we have to take care of." The nurse handed me a cup of water from the medical tray.
It hurt, but I managed while my mother watched in disapproval. Swallowing the last of the water and pills, I looked back at her.
"Could you please get me something else to drink? I'm still thirsty. And maybe get some soup?"
I wasn't hungry or thirsty, but I wanted a break from her hovering. She was reluctant at first, but eventually, she agreed to go get me some things from the hospital's cafeteria, and I was left alone with the nurse, a plump younger woman with all of her curly brown hair tied back in a long braid. She quickly helped apply some ointment directly to the bruised skin before bandaging my neck. Then, she left to retrieve some forms while my mother was away, leaving me in peace for a moment.
I ran a hand over my face, feeling the exhaustion weighing heavily on me. I would be spending the next couple of days at my mother's place, confined to my old bedroom — against my will, might I add. Even when I argued that I still needed to pack my things, she wasn't having it. She wanted me under her watchful eye in case Beth came back. I was forbidden from going back alone.
Dropping my hand to my lap, I looked around the cold, sterile room. It was brighter than it should be, with pale blue walls adorned with medical charts and monitors. A movable arm extended from the wall to support a cluster of IV bags and tubes, one of which was currently inserted into my arm.
The air smelled like disinfectant and that underlying smell of sickness.
I hated it here.
I missed my bed.
I missed Tristan.
All I wanted was to sink into his warm arms and stay there forever — to just forget about everything else except for him. At this point, it felt like seeing him would be the only thing that could make me feel better.
As I sat there, it dawned on me that I might not see Tristan again. This whole thing had made it so I would miss my last week at Dale. Thanksgiving was next week Thursday, and I would be leaving that Saturday. Topeka would be my new home for the foreseeable future, and the mere thought of my impending departure made my stomach churn.
I would miss Dale a lot — the professors, the friends I'd made, the familiar routines, and all my favorite spots. And it was painfully obvious that I'd miss the man who'd forced his way into my life and changed it irrevocably. I couldn't imagine a future where I didn't miss him.
A part of me wished that he missed me enough to come find me, but deep down, I knew it was just wishful thinking.
A knock at the door roused me from my thoughts, and I looked up to see Amanda standing in the open doorway, looking incredibly uncomfortable. The sight of her made me tense up, and I regarded her with wary eyes.
"Can we talk?" Her voice held an unusual hesitancy, lacking its normal sharp edge and attitude.
I regarded her silently, debating whether I had the energy to deal with her right now. My tolerance for bullshit had long since been passed, and Amanda had a special knack for pissing me off. And let's not forget why I should be angry with her.
"It'll only be a few minutes," she pleaded.
Right — a few minutes I'd never be able to get back. Sighing, I relented, choosing to nod rather than speak. If she wanted to talk, then she'd be doing most of it.
She stepped further into the room cautiously, almost as if she were expecting to be ambushed. Fortunately for her, I was the only one getting attacked today. She walked in and hovered near the visitor's chair, considering sitting down but ultimately opting to remain standing.
She swallowed hard. And then she finally spoke. "I'm sorry I didn't realize you were going through a hard time when you first moved in. I made assumptions about you, and I treated you based on them."
I stayed quiet, meeting her gaze with a mix of disbelief and skepticism. It was weird to see her acting like this, and I definitely hadn't been prepared for the sudden apology. I didn't know if I liked it or not. And why was she apologizing? I found it hard to believe she'd just suddenly gained a conscious.
She cleared her throat, a faint flush coloring her cheeks. "To be fair, when we first met, you were a major bitch. And then there was that whole thing with Bryson..." She paused, taking a deep breath. "I resented you for what happened with him. Or at least, for what I thought happened."
I couldn't keep quiet anymore despite how much it hurt to talk. "I was the major bitch? You took one look at me and decided you hated me. You were rude to me right from the start — I just responded in kind. And I never took it as far as you did. Let's not forget all the rumors you and your best friend spread about me," I said, glaring at her.
A flicker of remorse crossed her face, and she grimaced. "I'm really sorry about that. I can't believe I fell for Penelope's lies and didn't see through them. I'll admit — I've been feeling pretty lost lately. I didn't know how to handle things with her or with you, but when I heard what you were saying to Beth, I knew I had to apologize, even if you never forgave me. And if Dylan did anything like what he did to Beth to you, then I'm truly sorry. I wouldn't wish that on anyone, not even my worst enemy." She looked down, and for a moment, I saw real pain in her expression, but she quickly masked it.
I might have sympathized with her if she wasn't conveniently forgetting what she'd done to me. That was something I couldn't excuse.
My teeth clenched together. "Yet you're the one who told me to die. You threatened me while calling me horrible names. Several times."
Panic flashed in her dark blue eyes. "No, I would never— I mean, I didn't..."
Raising my hand, I cut her off. "I know it was you who sent those messages, Amanda."
She froze, staring at me with shock. "What? How did you..."
"The timing gave you away. Right after Tristan and I got together, and then again when you kissed him at the festival. I'm guessing you hoped I'd see it and then read the messages right after." Not to mention, Bailey had seen Penelope next to her, holding her phone but not taking pictures. She really was an out-standing best friend.
She flinched, looking down. "I wasn't the only one involved. Penelope and I did it together," she confessed.
"I was pretty angry about losing him to you, so I stupidly agreed with her plan to intimidate you. We didn't really mean anything by it — we just wanted to freak you out. We did something similar with Bryson. I liked him, but so did my best friend Clara. Penelope helped me with him, but Clara found out, and we both got kicked out of the sorority." She paused, wincing. "I didn't learn my lesson then, but I swear I won't do this again. Not to you or anyone else. We were wrong, and I'm sorry."
I frowned. Hearing everything made me feel worse. Those messages had affected me more than I wanted to admit. "So it was all just a game to you? A twisted way to get back at me because you couldn't stand the idea of another girl being with the guy you liked?"
She shook her head softly. "It was never actually about Tristan Beckett. Sure, I was interested in him before I met him, and definitely after I met him — but even I knew he didn't want me. It was about not losing him to you— it was about not letting you steal another guy from me. Obviously, I was wrong about the first guy."
The absurdity of her words left me momentarily stunned, grappling with the extent of her insecurity and jealousy — which somehow seemed so much worse than my own.
I sighed, letting go of the anger.
While I appreciated her apology and the effort to set things right, I was done with her. This apology changed nothing, and it certainly didn't change how I thought of her. She had already done so much, and forgiving her wasn't high on my priority list. Forgetting about her and moving on seemed like the more reasonable option.
We were just never going to be friends, and that was an immutable truth.
Meeting her gaze, I said, "Thanks for stepping up and apologizing, but I'm not really in the right headspace to deal with all of this right now. I think I need a few minutes alone."
She seemed to hesitate, as if there was more she wanted to say, before finally nodding. "I'll give you some space then. Get better soon, Hannah."
Watching her make her way to the doorway, she paused and glanced back at me. "The others are ready to head home. Are you coming with us, or...?"
"I'll be going home with my mother," I replied, mustering a small, strained smile. "But please let everyone know that I'll be back next week to pack up. I'll say my goodbyes and stuff then."
She nodded. "I hope you do well wherever you're going. I genuinely mean that." With that and one last sympathetic smile, she left. Alone in the quiet room, I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, letting the weight of the day sink in.