She throws her arms around my neck and grasps my hair, pulling my mouth back to hers, showing me that she needs this just as much as I do. I groan and pull her away from the shower wall, then walk her out of the bathroom and into the bedroom. I drop her down onto the bed, then grab her panties and pull them down her legs. I crash against her mouth and pull off my boxers, which are now soaking wet. All I can think about is how much I need to be inside her right now. I pull apart from her long enough to get a condom on, then I grab her hips and pull her to the edge of the bed. I lift her leg to my side and slide my other arm underneath her shoulder.
She looks up at me and I look down at her. I grip her leg and her shoulder and keep my eyes trained on hers, then push into her. The second I’m inside her, it doesn’t feel like enough. I press my lips to hers and try to search for whatever it is that’s missing from the moment. I move in and out of her, more and more frantic with each thrust, trying desperately to reach a feeling that I don’t even know exists. She relaxes her body against mine, following my movements, allowing me to be in control.
But I don’t want that right now.
That’s what’s wrong with me.
My mind is so exhausted and so tired and my heart hurts so much right now. I just need her to help me figure out how to stop trying to be the hero for once.
I pull away from her and she looks up at me, never questioning why I’ve drastically slowed against her. She just brings her hands to my face and gently runs her fingers over my eyes and my lips and cheeks. I turn my mouth toward the inside of her palm and I kiss it, then drop down on top of her, stopping completely. I keep my gaze locked with hers and I pull her to me, then lift her up as I stand. I’m still inside her and she’s wrapped around me, so I turn my back to the bed and slide down to the floor. I lean forward and kiss her bottom lip softly, then her whole mouth.
I bring a hand to her cheek and drop the other to her hip. I begin to move beneath her, slowly guiding her with my hand, wanting her to just take control. I need her to want to comfort me the same way that I always want to comfort her.
“You know how I feel about you,” I whisper, staring into her eyes. “You know how much I love you. You know I would do whatever I could to take away your pain, right?”
She nods, never pulling her gaze from mine, even for a second.
“I need that from you so fucking bad right now, Sky. I need to know you love me like that.”
Her expression grows soft and her eyes fill with compassion. She laces our hands together and places them over our hearts. She strokes her thumb against my hand and lifts up slightly, then slowly glides back down me again.
The incredible sensation that rushes through my body causes my head to collapse against the mattress behind me. I groan, unable to keep my eyes open.
“Open your eyes,” she whispers, still moving against me. “I want you to watch me.”
I lift my head and watch her. It’s the easiest thing I’ve ever been asked to do, because she’s fucking beautiful right now.
“Don’t look away again,” she says, lifting herself up. When she slides back onto my lap, I can barely keep my head up. Especially when that moan escapes her lips and she squeezes my hands even harder.
“The first time you kissed me?” she says. “That moment when your lips touched mine? You stole a piece of my heart that night.”
You stole a piece of mine, too.
“The first time you told me you lived me because you weren’t ready to tell me you loved me yet? Those words stole another piece of my heart.”
But I did love you. I loved you so much.
I open my hand and press it flat against her heart. “The night I found out I was Hope? I told you I wanted to be alone in my room. When I woke up and saw you in my bed I wanted to cry, Holder. I wanted to cry because I needed you there with me so bad. I knew in that moment that I was in love with you. I was in love with the way you loved me. When you wrapped your arms around me and held me, I knew that no matter what happened with my life, you were my home. You stole the biggest piece of my heart that night.”
I didn’t steal it. You gave it to me.
She lowers her mouth to mine and I drop my head back against the mattress and let her kiss me. “Keep them open,” she whispers, pulling away from my lips. I do what she says and somehow open my eyes again, looking directly into hers. “I want you to keep them open . . . because I need you to watch me give you the very last piece of my heart.”
This moment. Right now. It’s almost worth every ounce of pain I’ve ever had to endure.
I tighten my grip on her hands and lean into her, but I don’t kiss her. We get as close as we possibly can and we keep our eyes open until the very last second. Until she completely consumes me and I completely consume her and I have no idea where my love ends and hers begins.
As soon as I begin to tremble and moan beneath her, my head falls against the mattress and she allows me to close my eyes this time. She continues to move on top of me until I’m completely and utterly still.
I give my heart a second to calm down, then I lift my head and look at her. I remove my hands from hers and I slide them through her hair to the back of her head. My lips connect with hers and I kiss her, pushing her off me and onto the floor beneath me. I slide my hand between us and flatten my palm against her stomach, then slowly lower my hand until I find the exact spot that makes my favorite sound escape her mouth. I drink in every single moan and breath that passes her lips. And I let her keep her eyes closed, but I keep mine open and watch her steal the very last piece of my heart.
Chapter Forty-six
* * *
Les,
I have so much I want to say, but I don’t even know how to begin.
Everything with Sky couldn’t have turned out better. She’s back home with Karen now where she belongs.
I knew Karen wouldn’t have harmed Sky. I could tell just from the little time I spent with them that Karen loved her as much as I did. It turns out, I was right. Karen took Sky from her father because Karen knew what he was doing to her. Karen was his sister . . . Sky’s aunt. And she had been through every single thing that Sky went through. She took her because she couldn’t just sit back and allow it to continue to happen. Now that Sky knows the whole truth, she’s decided to stay with Karen. Karen risked her entire life for that girl. She risked her entire future and I could never thank her enough.
I said this to Sky and I’ll say it to you. The only thing I wish Karen would have done differently, is I wish she could have taken you, too.
I didn’t know, Les. I had no idea what he was doing to you and I’m so sorry.
I’ll tell you more tomorrow, but tonight I just needed to tell you that I love you.
H
Chapter Forty-seven
* * *
Happy Halloween. Sure hope you decide to wear something sexy for once.
I hit send and set the phone on my nightstand, then climb out of bed. I didn’t leave Sky’s house until after four o’clock this morning, then I came home and wrote Les a note before I crawled into bed. It’s been days of little sleep and high emotion.
I walk to the closet and grab a T-shirt, then pull it on over my head. My phone sounds off so I walk to it and pick it up to read her text.
Hi, Holder. It’s Karen. Still haven’t returned Sky’s phone to her, but I’ll relay the message. Or not.
Oh, shit. I laugh and text Karen back.
lol . . . sorry about that. But while I’m texting you, how is she today?
I wait for her response, which doesn’t take long.
She’s okay. She’s been through a lot and I know it’ll take time. But she’s the bravest girl I know, so I have complete faith in her.
I smile and text her back.
Yeah. She kind of reminds me of her mother.
She texts back a heart. I set my phone on the bed and sit down beside it. I pick it back up and scroll through it, finding my father’s number.
Hey, Dad. Miss you. I’m thinking about bringing my girlfriend to visit during Thanksgiving break. I want you to meet her. Tell Pamela I promise to stay off her couch.
I hit send, but I know the text wasn’t enough, so I text him one more time.
And I’m sorry. I’m really sorry.
I set the phone down and look across the room to the notebook still lying on the floor where I threw it. The one that contains the majority of my notes to Les.
I still don’t want to read it, but I feel like I owe it to her. I stand up and walk to it. I bend over and pick it up at the same time I lower myself to the floor. I lean against the wall and pull my knees up, then open the notebook and flip to the back of it.
Chapter Forty-seven-and-a-half
* * *
Dear Holder,
If you’re reading this, I’m so, so sorry. Because if you’re reading this, then I know what I did to you.
But I really hope you never find this letter. I’m hoping whoever finds this notebook doesn’t see much use for it and throws it out, because I don’t want to break your heart. But I have so much I need to say to you that I’ll never be able to tell you face to face, so I’m doing it here, instead.
I’m going to start with what happened when we were kids. With Hope.
I know how much you blamed yourself for walking away from her. But you need to realize that you weren’t the only one, Holder. I walked away from her, too. And you were doing what any other child in that situation would do. You were trusting that the adults in her life were doing what was right for her. How could you have anticipated what was going to happen when she walked to that car? You couldn’t have, so just stop thinking you could have done something differently. You couldn’t have and frankly, you shouldn’t have. Hope climbing into that car was the best thing that ever happened to her.
A few weeks after she was taken, her father asked me if I wanted to help him make some flyers. Of course I wanted to help him. I would have done anything that would have helped bring Hope back to us.
When I walked into his house, I could feel something wasn’t right. He walked me to her bedroom. He told me the materials for the flyers were in Hope’s room. Then he shut the door behind us and completely shattered my life.
It went on for years after that. It went on until the day I couldn’t bear it anymore and finally told Mom..
She immediately went to the police. That same day I was interviewed by a therapist and my confession was documented. I was only nine or ten years old, so I don’t remember a lot about it. I just remember that weeks went by and Mom and Dad had to go to the police station several times. The whole time all of this was going on, Hope’s father never once returned home.
I found out later he had been arrested. An investigation was completed and it was even taken to court. I remember the day Mom came home and told me we were moving. Dad couldn’t leave his job and she refused to keep us in Austin, so she moved us. I don’t know if you know this, but they tried to work it out. Dad tried to find a job that could support us in our new town, but he never did. I think they eventually realized that it was easier being apart. Maybe they both blamed each other for what happened to me.
Now that I look back on all the therapy Mom had me undergo, I hate that she didn’t see the need for her to see a therapist, too. I always wondered if their marriage could have been saved if they had talked to someone about it. But then again, I’ve been in therapy for years and it obviously didn’t save me. I wish it did, and maybe it could have if I knew how to apply it. It did help me get through for several years, but it couldn’t save me from myself every time I had to close my eyes at night. And as much as Mom tried to save me, she couldn’t do it, either. I wasn’t looking to be saved.
I just wanted to be let go.
I found out several years later that Hope’s father never had to pay for what he did to me. For what he did to Hope. He was extremely manipulative and made it seem like I was blaming him for Hope’s disappearance and this was my way of getting back at him. The entire community rallied behind him. They couldn’t believe someone would accuse a man of such a cruel act after having his daughter ripped out from under him.
So he got away with it. He was free to do whatever he wanted and I felt like I was locked in hell for eternity.
Mom didn’t want you to find out what happened to me. She was afraid of what it would do to you. We both saw how much you blamed yourself for what happened to Hope and she didn’t want to see you hurt any more.
I didn’t want to see that, either.
Now comes the most difficult part of this letter. This is so hard for me to say, because I’ve held so much guilt over it. Every day that I saw the pain in your eyes, I knew that if I just confessed to you what I’m about to tell you, it would have relieved you of so much agony.
But I couldn’t. I couldn’t find a way to tell you that Hope was alive. That she was okay and that Mom and I saw her once, about three years ago.
I was fourteen and we were eating at a restaurant, just Mom and me. I was taking a drink when I looked up and saw her walking through the door.
I turned to Mom and I know I had to be as pale as a ghost, because she reached across the table and grabbed my hand.
“Lesslie, what’s wrong, sweetie?”
I couldn’t talk. All I could do was stare at Hope. Mom turned around and the second she laid eyes on her, she knew it was her. We were both stunned silent.
The waitress led them to a table right next to ours. Mom and I were both just sitting there, staring at her. Hope glanced at me when she took her seat, then looked away like she didn’t even recognize me. It broke my heart that she didn’t recognize me. I think I started crying at that point. I was just so emotionally overwhelmed and I didn’t know what to do. I fingered the bracelet on my wrist and whispered her name, just to see if she would hear me and turn around again.
She didn’t hear me, but the woman who was with her did. She darted her head in our direction with sheer panic in her eyes. It confused me. It confused Mom.
The woman looked at Hope. “I think I left the stove on,” she said, standing up. “We need to leave.” Hope looked confused, but she stood up, too. Her mother ushered her toward the exit to the restaurant. That’s when Mom stood up and rushed after them. I did, too.
When we were all outside, the woman rushed Hope to the car, then immediately shut her door. Mom and I walked up behind her and as soon as the woman turned around and faced Mom, tears welled in her eyes.
“Please,” the woman begged. She didn’t say anything after that. Mom stared at her for a while without saying anything in return. I just stood there, trying to understand what was happening.
“Why did you take her?” Mom finally asked her.
The woman began to cry and she kept shaking her head. “Please,” she cried. “She can’t go back to him. Please don’t do that to her. Please, please, please.”
My mother nodded. She stepped forward and placed a reassuring hand on the woman’s shoulder. “Don’t worry,” Mom said. “Don’t worry.” Mom glanced at me and tears filled her eyes, then she glanced back to the woman. “I would do whatever it took to keep my daughter safe, too.”
The woman looked at Mom in confusion. I know she didn’t understand exactly just how much Mom knew, but she understood Mom’s honesty. She tilted her head and exhaled. “Thank you,” she said, backing away from us. “Thank you.” She opened her door and climbed into her car, then they drove away.
I don’t know where she lives. We never found out the woman’s name and we never found out the name Hope goes by now. I also stopped wearing the bracelet after that day because I knew in my heart that she didn’t need to be found. But I needed you to know, Holder. I just need you to know that she’s alive and she’s okay and you walking away from her that day was the best thing you could have done for her.
As far as me, well . . . I’m a lost cause. I’ve spent the last eight or so years existing in this constant nightmare and I’m jus
t tired. The therapy and medication help numb the pain, but it’s the numbness I don’t want to endure, Holder. That’s why I plan to do what I need to do, and that’s what led to your reading this letter. I’m tired and exhausted and sick of living a life that I don’t really want to live anymore. I’m tired of pretending to be happy for you, because I’m not happy. Every single time I smile, I feel like I’m lying to you, but I don’t know how to live any other way. And I know when I do it, it’ll break your heart. I know it’ll devastate Mom and Dad. And I know that you’ll hate me.
But knowing all of that can’t change my mind. I’ve lost the ability to care anymore, so it’s hard to empathize with what you’ll experience after I’m gone. I don’t remember what it’s like to care enough about life that the thought of death could destroy me. So I need you to know that I’m sorry, but I can’t help it.
I’ve been let down by this life one too many times and quite frankly, I’m tired of losing hope.
I love you more than you know.
Les
P.S. I hope you never allow yourself to believe I went through with it because you failed me in some way. All those nights you held me and just let me cry . . . you have no idea how many times you’ve already saved me.
Losing Hope: A Novel Page 26
