Page 53 of War Hope
I swallow. I don't believe that. "Don't lie to me. She has to wonder whoherfather is."
"No, she doesn't. She knows who he is becausehetucks her into bed every night," she says and my chest seizes, a slow burn of hurt radiating down to my very core. Without another word, she turns around and walks toward her door.
I stand by my bikein a daze, staring off into the nothing.Idon'tknowwhatI expected her to say. I've thought about the possibilities over and over, that she'd tell Lydia I was a bad person. In jail. At war. That she didn't know me. That I was dead and gone. I neverimaginedLydiawouldn't evenwonder becauseshe has a man she thinks is her father. I don'tevenexistto the one person who is my world. She's part of me and not one part of me existsto her.I shove myhelmet over my headandstraddle my bike, takingone lastglance at the building beforeIcrank the engine and drive off.
I wind through the London trafficonautopilot, not even aware of where I actually am until I stopin front ofHope'sflat.She'shasanarmfulof groceriesandsmileswhenshesees me.I takemyhelmet off, tucking it under myarmasI walktowardthedoor.
"Ididn'texpect tosee you," she says.I take the shopping bags from her and she lifts a brow asshestepsaway."You alright?"
"Yeah, I'mfine."
Sheglaresatme beforeturning around and heading tothe stairs.I follow her inside and put the groceries on the counter.
"Oh,my god. Do you know what Doris told me?"she asksas she takesthe milk outand puts it inthefridge.
"God only knows."
"ShesaidthatEddie and Bobby got into a fight. Over her." She pops her head out from thefridgeand smiles.
"Wow..."
"Yeah, Eddie tried to run him over with his scooter at the bingo hall. You see what happens when I miss a week?" She closes the fridge and shakes her head. "I miss all the good stuff."
I smile, swiping my hands though my hair. All I can think about isthat Lydia doesn't even knowI exist, that Inever really lostherbecausesince the dayI left she hasn't been mine. She's somebodyelse'sbabygirl.Hope comescloser and trails her fingers over my arm. “I’ve been thinking,” she says, biting her lip. I try to focus on her, but I can't. I can't do this. Everything is closing in, my heart's pounding. I need air. I need out. I need away.
"Iuh..." I take a stepback and swallow."Igottago."I turn and open the doorto leave.
"Finn!Where are you going?"
"Ijustneed to drive."
"Whatis goingon with you?"She grabsmyshoulder and I tenseunderher touch. I want to tell her,butwhatin thehell will she think ofme? What does that sound like: I left my daughter. I have arestrainingorder because I let my temper get thebetter of me.It makes mesound like apiece of shit.It makes me soundno better thanthe piece of shit that broke her heart. Fuck!
"Hope,Ijust, Ineed tobe alone."
“Well, then why did you come over here?” Sheinhales and narrows her eyes."One day Finn, you'll tell me what's riding you so hard."
"There are some things about me you don't need to know."
She shakes her head. "If you can’t tell your friends then who can you tell?"
"We aren’t friends, Hope,” I say and walk off. That was harsh. I know it. But it’s the truth. We aren’t. We are dancing this dangerous line, fucking tiptoeing with feelings neither of us our ready to handle. We’re both vulnerable, and I just snuffed out any possibility for it to be anything because I’d rather her hate me for being a dick than for hurting her like I inevitably will.
