Hold on to Hope

Like he was readying himself. Prepping himself to have to step in the same way he’d had to do when I was a kid.

Like he was reliving it all over again. With a shaky hand, he reached out and ran his hand over the back of Everett’s head.

Tenderly.

Like he was making his own statement.

A promise.

I felt it like an earthquake.

Then he shifted his gaze to me, hesitating, before he hauled me in for a hug that shouted so many things.

Distress and hope and gloom.

He seemed to have to pry himself away, his expression full of apprehension. “We should go inside.”

“Yeah,” I responded.

I followed him up the steps to the porch and into the house.

This house that was just as cozy as the one Mom and I had shared when she’d run with me.

When she’d saved my life, too, doing every single thing she had to do to keep me alive.

To keep me safe.

I finally understood it now.

A parent’s willingness to give it all.

Sacrifice everything.

No matter the cost.

I noticed the whir of movement upstairs, and my attention snapped up to find my little sister blazing down the steps, her hair this unruly mix of red and blonde.

My heart clutched.

She’d grown at least five inches, no longer a child, now fourteen, so much that I had missed.

She didn’t slow. She hit the bottom of the landing and dove right for me. Her arms around my waist and her cheek against Everett’s back.

Pinning us all together.

With my free arm, I fumbled to return her embrace. “Charlotte.” Was pretty sure it was some kind of whimper. It was taking my all not to lose my shit right there.

To drop to my knees with the crash of emotion.

I’d known coming back here was going to be hard, but I hadn’t prepared myself for it to feel quite like this.

She squeezed tighter before she looked back at me, her face a blur of tears. “Evan. I was so worried about you. I can’t believe you’re here. And you have a baby. Oh my God. How did you get a baby?”

She was rushing. Rambling.

Good thing, too. There was no chance in hell I was answering that.

“I’m here, I’m here,” I told her instead. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The promise came out without thought. I cringed. Unsure if it was the truth or if I was just placating her.

At the same time, I was hit with the devastating realization that I hadn’t felt right in three years. That I hadn’t felt whole or real during all that time.

Lost.

Drifting.

As messed up as my current situation was, there was no question that this was where I belonged.

“I need to talk with Mom and Dad.” I touched my sister’s cheek, meeting her eye in a promise that we would talk later. No matter what. That I wouldn’t disappear.

Her attention darted between Everett and me before she nodded frantically. “Okay,” she said as she swiped at the tears beneath her eyes.

“I love you,” she said.

“I love you, too,” I mouthed back.

Angling around her, I took the short hall to the left. I passed by the formal dining room on the right and stepped through the arch at the end that led into the gourmet kitchen.

A custom nook was built at the far end under the windows that looked out over the yard and the forest beyond. The kitchen huge and brimming with warmth. It’d basically become our family’s gathering spot.

My mother was already there, her eyes wild, her arms eager as she pulled Everett from my hold. Hugged him to her chest.

Ripples of angst undulated through the air.

Unease and questions and speculation.

I moved right for the refrigerator. This conversation was going to require alcohol.

I grabbed a beer.

Popping the cap, I chugged half of it before I let the refrigerator door shut, and I turned around to meet their faces.

Their judgment.

Their doubt.

I deserved it.

Still, I was heaving out an unsteady breath.

WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN, EVAN? Dad’s anger bled free, the movement of his fingers and hands hard as he made the demand.

I swiped my free hand over my mouth and set the beer aside.

Wasn’t sure if I was surprised that he was starting there or if I’d expected it.

If they’d be more upset that I’d disappeared for three years, or if they’d be more shocked by the fact I’d returned with a child.

Not that I was a kid. It was just the fact I was never supposed to have one of my own.

CALIFORNIA, I told him.

I KNOW WHAT STATE YOU WERE IN. WHAT I WANT TO KNOW IS WHY? WHY YOU FELT THE NEED TO CUT US OUT OF THE LAST THREE YEARS OF YOUR LIFE?

Sadness blew through the air. Their pain so stark I felt it like the stab of a knife.

I rubbed my palms together and exhaled a harsh breath.

“I needed to go,” I finally forced out, tongue close to tied. “Needed to find out who I am outside all of this.”