AllFreeNovel
Share Us
I stare at the words for longer than I should, and with each second that passes, the emotions I’ve forced deep, deep down come closer and closer to the surface. For an entire week, I refused to cry, refused to acknowledge the hurt or the fact that I still wake up every morning searching for a pendant that I no longer possess.
I try to breathe through the pain—the ache caused by a longing for something I can never have. I reach for my phone, stare at the many texts from Maggie that I’ve left unanswered. “It’s easier this way,” I whisper, convincing myself of another lie.
A knock on the door has me dropping my phone, saving me from more heartache. I get to my feet, calling out, “Coming!” as I grab a few bucks for the pizza guy.
I swing open the door, and my heart catches in my throat because the person standing on the other side isn’t here to give me a pizza…
He’s here to give me my most prized possession. “You left this…”
* * *
It’s been a good twenty minutes since Holden got here, and we’ve barely said two words to each other. Soon after he knocked on the door, the pizza arrived, and now we’re in the kitchen, him leaning against the fridge, me sitting on the counter, struggling to eat slices of pizza that taste like cardboard. Or maybe that’s just me. Maybe his presence has killed my tastebuds, and the giant lump in my throat is making it hard to swallow. I can’t look at him. Every time I do, I catch him staring at me. It’s unnerving, and Ihateit. I hate that he seems to have this control over me. He smells so good.Shut up. He makes a noise, and I snap my eyes to his. “What’s that?”
“I just… cleared my throat.”
“Right.”
I sip my soda.
He drinks water from the tap.
There’s one slice of pizza left.
“Question,” he states, and my legs start swinging on their own. “Why did Esme leave me the house?”
“I don’t know.” I shrug, jumping off the counter. “You want this last slice?”
“No.” I throw my crust in the box and close the lid while Holden says, “I’ve just been thinking about it a lot the past few days. Seems odd to me. I mean, it makes sense that she’d leave it to you, but I haven’t been in contact with her since the day you left here. She could’ve given it all to you or split it with her church, but me? It doesn’t make sense. Unless…” he trails off.
My shoulders stiffen. “Unless what?” I ask, my eyes focused on the red and blue squares on the pizza box.
“Unless… you talked to her about me?” His voice is louder now, closer, and I can almost feel the heat of him along my back. “Did you tell her you wished we could be together?” he asks, his hand on my hip, urging me to face him. His tone turns teasing when he adds, “And about how much youloveme?”
I turn to him slowly, his hand going from my hip to my back. He smiles—a wicked, cocky smile—and I…
I push him away, put my arms up between us. “Yeah, I did, Holden,” I admit. I look him right in the eyes and tell him the truth. “I spoke of you a lot and how I wish things were different between us. But that’s the thing about wishes. They don’t always come true. And even if they do, there’s no guarantee that they won’t disappoint.”
His hand falls to his side, his smile dropping altogether.
“I have some more packing to do, so…”
“I can help,” he says, and nowhe’sthe one who can’t look at me.
* * *
For the next hour, we silently fill boxes with items that we can donate and trash everything else. I work in Esme’s bedroom, and he… I don’t really know what he does.
I’d saved her bedroom for last because I knew it would be the hardest. This is the room where she kepthermost prized possessions: jewelry, photo albums, marriage certificates. I start with the drawers, creating two separate piles on the floor. Personal things and things I feel have no sentimental value.
I keep two skirts and a blouse for myself and put all her remaining clothing in bags. Until I get to the last item hanging in her closet. It’s in a garment bag, and I know what it is the moment I start to unzip—white lace and pearl buttons done all the way to the top. I’d seen her in it in the framed photographs she kept on her dresser. I push the top of the unzipped bag over the hanger and let it fall to the floor.
Esme’s wedding dress is timeless and classically beautiful, and I bring it to my chest, hold it up in front of me as I turn to the full-length mirror behind the door. But I don’t see myself when I look at my reflection. Instead, I see Esme standing at the altar in front of her forever, with hopes and dreams of the children she’ll never have, but a life far greater than she could have ever imagined.
“I’ve gone through every drawer and cupboard and…” Holden’s words die in the air when my eyes catch his in the mirror. “You look…”
I focus on my reflection again, at the A-line skirt flowing down to the floor, covering my toes. “Ridiculous?” I ask.
“Captivating.”
