Page 100 of Finding Hope

It’s an unremarkable elastic.

Plain black. No distinguishing marks. It could be anyone’s. She nevermentions it, she simply rolls it along my skin while we lay together and whisper in my room.

She’s spent a handful of nights in my bed, but for the most part, we sleep on opposite sides of town.

It’s probably time I moved back into my house. It’s time for me to grow the fuck up. I can’t expect Kit to catch me every time my life goes to shit, and I probably should at least try toappearas a grown-up with his own place, rather than an idiot who still lives at home with his folks.

Maybe that’s why Britt hasn’t told her brothers about me. Maybe I’m her dirty little secret. I probably wouldn’t introduce me to family, either. I’m a drunk who lost his shit, became a special breed of asshole, and moved back home because I was too much of a baby to deal with my shit alone.

Whatever.

Pulling into my driveway, I cut the engine and climb out. Following Annie to my front door, I push it open and step into the musky scent of absence and stale air.

If I was in any other frame of mind, I might open the curtains, open the windows, and let some air in. But I’m not, so I simply slam the door shut and walk through the heavily shadowed rooms.

I haven’t been in here in months. I haven’t even come in to collect razors or fresh underwear. I simply bought more. Or more accurately, Kit bought me more.

I let my family move my important things over to Kit’s, then I locked this bitch up and walked away.

There are ghosts everywhere in this house.

The photos of Steph and me are still face-down from the time I accused Britt of snooping.

A fucking lifetime ago.

I walk through my living room and fix the frames. It’s disrespectful that she lay face-down like this. I set them up so dozens of pairs of Steph’s light eyes stare at me, a penetrating accusation that follows me as I walk back into the main entrance.

I stop in the middle of the space and look up. This isn’t the chandelier that originally came with this house.

No, years before I moved in, this house was being used by a young family. Lindsi, a young mom on the run from her abusive husband needed a safe space. I was still only a teenager and had no need for this house yet, so my family lent it to Lindsi and her two small kids.

Their dad – Lindsi’s husband – just so happens to be Bean’s biological father.

He followed them here, waited for the estate to be empty of my family, then he hung her from my chandelier. He hung her to die.

But hers isn’t one of the ghosts that linger here.

No. It’s his.

Ben came into my home that night with the intention to murder his family – and maybe mine too, had he been given the chance – but instead, Lindsi got to her gun, aimed it point blank, and she splattered her husband’s brains all over my tile.

Hisis the ghost that haunts my home.

And just like how Britt helps me live with Steph’s ghost, Steph helped me live with his. But now neither woman is with me, and both ghosts tickle my insides and taunt me.

Shaking my head, I walk through to the kitchen and face more nightmares. More ghosts. This time, they come in the form of alcohol.

With the knowledge that my sister’s home has been cleared of all alcohol – her attempt to make my recovery easier – butmyhouse remains untouched, I reach into the cabinet above the fridge and, pushing the clutter aside, take down the bottle of bourbon IknewI’d find.

Turning to lean against the fridge, I lift one leg and rest my foot on the fridge door, and with that feeling of acceptance swirling in my gut – that feeling of the inevitable – I stare at the black label with the white lettering. I stare at the black cap, the seal broken long ago. I stare at the amber liquid lazily sloshing side to side, down to only a third of the contents remaining.

I fucking hate this stuff.

It taunts me.Drink me, I taste good, but better than that, I can help you forget. I can help you sleep. When you sleep with me, you get to see Steph again. You want to see her, don’t you?

Yeah. I do want to see her again. I miss her so fucking much. But worst of all, completely disrespecting my sweet Stephanie’s memory, Ialsowant to see Britt. Because she soothes my heart.

I don’t yearn for Steph so much when Britt’s there, not because she replaces Steph, but because she helps me remember the good times and live with them in my heart.

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