Hayden sits on the gazebo and the tears come even when she doesn't think she's sad.
She's crying because she died young and beautiful and because she could have done so much more. She could have been so much more.
She is crying because she's alone and crying because she knows some part of her deserves to be alone for hurting his wife, for trying to steal the baby, for killing him, for damning him her so that she could haunt him forever.
She does haunt him, every day. She watches him writing his notes, drinking his scotch, playing with his dead baby, and sometimes at the gazebo she cradles her stomach and she cries for her baby, for the child that could have been the link between them, the thread that could have led him back to her.
She is crying because sometimes, when she looks up, he is watching her, his head tilted, his blue eyes spearing right into her empty womb, and she doesn't know why. She doesn't know if he feels some kind of misplaced guilt or pity or some other pyschobabble bullshit he'd taught her in class, but she knows it hurts her. It haunts her like she haunts him, and when she sees him watching she can't stop hearing his final words to her, feeling that last, desperate kiss, and she moans and wails and wants to be done with it all, wants to be as dead as her poor unborn baby.
Then she looks up and Ben Harmon is standing there in front of her, closer than he'd been in years, looking down at her, and her breath catches in her throat and she can't do anything but look up at him.
He doesn't speak, doesn't move, just staring down at her, and his eyes are so bright blue in the sunlight they look almost white.
Hayden wants to jump up into his arms and wants to dig under the gazebo and bury herself with her body at the same time because she's embarrassed and snot and tears are streaming down her face and because she loves him anyway, wants him anyway.
She can't do anything so she just keeps looking up at him and crying and when his mouth opens she thinks her heart might explode because she's stopped breathing.
He throws back his head, snorts and spits in her face.
His saliva mixes with the snot and tears on her face and she just hangs her head and lets all the mess slide down onto the wood floor and she's rocking and howling like a dog as he walks away from her because she can't stop crying and doesn't know if she ever will. She's crying because he hates her and never loved her.
She's crying because she's damned.
She's crying because she's lived her whole life for love and there is none for her here.