Page 50 of Finding Hope

The way I treated the general female population like shit.

Bambie.

I’d done nothing more to her than I’d done to a dozen other women this year, but for some reason, Bambie got her own mention. She’s different. Shefeelsdifferent. And no matter what I called her, I know she’s no one’s whore. She deserved so much more respect than what I’d given her.

Just like when Steph was alive, even in death, she was my confidant. We never lied to each other, so when I told her about Bambie, I told her everything.

Every. Single. Asshole. Detail.

Today, I’m here to confess that I was too cowardly to give Brittany much thought over the last two months. I was too cowardly to face my truth, but seeing her last night felt right.

My confession to myself is that what I did to Bambie was wrong.

But my confession to Steph, is that seeing Bambie felt good for my heart.

She looked good. So beautiful. And incredibly, she wasn’t angry like she had every right to be. She wasn’t angry at all.

There’s freedom in the knowledge that she wasn’t hurting because of me.

“I was carrying this guilt around for months, Steph. Guilt for how I treated her. But seeing her helped ease some of the poison I’d kept bottled up. She’s dating now, which is really nice. She deserves better than to pick up assholes like me in a club. He seemed… well.” I laugh and finger a blade of grass. “Rich, I guess. He was a bit of a douche, but he has money, so maybe he can buy her lots of pretty stuff and make her smile. I’m not interested in dating yet, but seeing her had me waking up today with a smile on my face. And since that doesn’t happen much anymore, I figure it’s worthy of a mention.”

Opening my chocolate milk, I hold the cold cardboard box in my hand and sigh. “I miss you, Steph. I miss you every single day. And I’m scared, because I’m still not sure I know how to live without you.”

Sitting in the breezy silence, I contemplate my life and the many steps I still have ahead of me. I’m so tired, so fucking exhausted, and itfeelslike I’m standing at the bottom of a giant mountain. It’s lonely down here, and the trek ahead just seems so insurmountable, but waking up with that smile seems to have given me a little boost of energy and optimism.

I never felt like this before the accident. I wasnevertired; not after training camp, not after a long week in the gym, not even after a big night of babysitting ten kids so my siblings could go out.

I could skip from mountaintop to mountaintop without breaking a sweat, but now I’m just me. Without Steph. And I swear, my shoes are made of cement.

I want to find the old me again, but that’s impossible, because the old me was half Steph, and Steph’s gone.

I guess that means I need to find a new me.

A new me that might not be as big and full of life as the old me, a new me that’s only half of what I was before, but it’s all I have to work with.

The alternative is to die, and I can’t do that.

I can’t hurt my family anymore.

Running rhythmic laps of our row, Annie finally slows and drops down beside me. Resting her nose an inch from Steph’s headstone, she closes her eyes and blows out a noisy breath.

“Annie says hi. She misses you, too.” I scratch her ears. “But don’t worry, I’ve been making the meat and rice stuff that you taught me. She eats it up every day, then she still begs the kids for scraps. She’s such a pig.”

Smiling the way only dogs can, Annie’s tongue rolls out of her mouth and lies on the grass.

Staying for an hour longer than usual, Annie and I lie in the sun and I whisper my thoughts. About Kit. About training. About the kids that never sleep.

And Britt. Somehow, that extra hour is spent mostly on Britt.

Steph is still my best friend, and we don’t keep secrets. So she learns of the strawberries. The silky black hair. The bangles; so many bangles.

Eventually, picking up my empty milk carton and standing, I lean forward and press a long, silent kiss on the top of her headstone.

“I still love you, baby. Every day for the rest of my life. I’ll see you next week, okay?”

I take one of her flowers. “One for me, the rest for you.”

14

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