“He’s been like that for weeks,” I said. “We had a big argument on a run one day. He just stormed off and we’d barely spoken since.”
“That really doesn’t seem like him. None of this seems like him.”
The city streets were clogged with traffic, despite the early hour. I wasn’t used to so much traffic and the clock was ticking. Anderson’s hand covered mine. A thought crossed my mind. “What if Sabine’s there?”
“Sabine isn’t his girlfriend,” he reminded me, although that whole concept felt strange, but who was I to judge?
“What if he doesn’t want to see us? Or won’t see us? Or refuses?”
“Babe,” Anderson said, as the driver cursed another car. “I’m not saying this is going to go the way we want it to, but it’s Hayden; he’ll listen to what you have to say.”
I’d never been so nervous before and I felt selfish. Selfish because I wanted all them back—not just the three that I had. I wanted Hayden, too.
After what seemed like forever, the car came to a stop in front of a tall building with slick blue-glass windows. The entrance was sophisticated. Hayden really did live a different life now. Why would he want to give it up?
Anderson linked our fingers as we walked into the building. He showed the doorman a card he had, allowing us access to Hayden’s apartment. He’d given it to him when they both first moved to the city, in case of an emergency. This counted, right?
My stomach dropped as the elevator soared to the top of the building, the floor numbers ticking off with a small chime. When they opened, Anderson led the way, walking down a wide hallway and turning past a large window that looked out and over the city.
I stopped and took in the view—a view that reeked of success, privilege. I felt Anderson next to me and said, “Maybe we shouldn’t do this.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Maybe he has what he needs here. What if that stuff about Sabine was a lie, just to give himself an excuse to leave. Maybe there’s someone other than Sabine? Maybe there’s a slew of other girls?” Oh god, I felt weak in the knees at the thought of that. I turned and looked around the tastefully
decorated hallway. “Hayden has the success he’s fought for his whole life. Who are we to challenge him on that?”
He sighed and rubbed his chin. “I don’t think he’s happy. He may be successful, but I don’t think he’s happy and I think that if our positions were reversed, he’d follow me across the country and kick my ass.” He took my hand. “We need to talk to him, Heaven, because if we don’t I’m not sure the rest of us can ever be whole.”
I recognized the truth in that statement and followed him to the door. Anderson knocked against the solid wood, the sound echoing back in the empty hallway.
He held up the key. “Should I?”
“I don’t know.” But I knew I wanted to see his place. See where he’d been living all this time.
Anderson didn’t ask me again, slipping the key in the slot. The bolt shifted and he opened the door. The apartment behind it came into view; everything was gray and white, expertly decorated. It was also sterile, void of anything personal. If I was looking for a piece of Hayden here, an insight to his life, I didn’t think I would find it.
“Do you think he even came here?” I asked, walking into the sparse room. Anderson walked over to the kitchen counter where he picked up a ticket stub.
He held it up. “He at least came here after his flight.”
“I’m calling him,” I said, pulling out my phone. “We’re here. He’ll have to see us, right?”
Anderson nodded and started across the living room.
I hit the send button and heard the first ring. Another faint ring sounded back, but this one nearby. I frowned. “Do you hear that?”
“Yeah,” he walked down the hallway toward the muffled sound of the ringing phone. It was coming from behind a closed door.
My heart pounded in my chest, wondering who or what we would find. Anderson stood before it and knocked, calling out his name. “Hayden, it’s me, Anderson.”
The phone switched to voicemail. I hung up and dialed again. The ringing continued. “Open the door,” I whispered. “Open it.”
He twisted the knob and pushed, but the door only opened a little. I rushed over as he peered in; an arm lay in the way, Hayden’s body crumpled on the floor.
“Hayden!” I cried, squeezing in the small opening. The door edges scraped down my sides, but I was only focused on him. I tugged him out of the way, pulling his massive body so that Anderson could get in the room. “Hayden baby, wake up,” I said touching his face. His hands were warm, but clammy. His eyes closed, but he was breathing. A bottle of pills was on the floor.
Anderson knelt down, phone already in his hands, calling 911. The look of panic on his face scared me more than anything else.