Hold on to Hope
My eyes dropped closed, and I shook my head. “But what if I want it to? What if I want to erase all the pain and the scars and the hurt he left behind? Forget him?”
Her smile was sympathetic. “Love doesn’t work like that, Frankie Leigh. We cut ourselves wide open when we love. Make ourselves vulnerable. Our hearts reliant on the other. I have to wonder if that connection wasn’t so strong that Evan’s heart didn’t have the strength to bear it.”
“But everything has changed.”
Jack’s face moved through my mind.
Guilt gripped me hard.
God, I shouldn’t even be thinking any of these things. Having these feelings.
Her brow pinched as she studied me, her brown hair tied up in a messy but stylish twist. I swore my mama was the prettiest woman in the whole world. Meant for us in every way.
Our savior when me and my daddy had needed her most.
“I’m not sayin’ everything hasn’t changed, Frankie. I’m not saying that the two of you could ever get back to the way that you were, even if you wanted to. All I’m saying is you don’t have to be ashamed of the way you feel. That it’s okay to hurt because we can’t hurt if we don’t love. And a life without love is the most tragic thing.”
I jolted in dismay when I heard the back door whipping open.
“Crap,” I muttered, frantically trying to wipe the soaking mess from my face. “I don’t want them to see me like this.”
Mama pushed to standing and held out her hand. “Come here, Sweet Pea.”
She rushed over to the sink and wet a cloth under it, wiped my eyes as we listened to the chaos of the guys spilling in through the backdoor, nothing but a ruckus of laughter and carrying voices.
My daddy and my two brothers. Daddy hadn’t exactly approved of the relationship Evan and I had shared growing up. The way we were always sneaking off. Holding hands. Far too close for little kids.
He’d always been super protective of his little girl.
He sure hadn’t liked it any better as we’d gotten older, either. Forbidding things that I had to believe now were just gonna happen, anyway.
Unstoppable.
I only wished I’d been strong enough to stop it myself. Before it’d been too late. Before I’d let it destroy everything.
“You okay?” she asked, dabbing under my eye.
No, I was absolutely not okay.
But I was gonna fake it for a minute.
With an erratic nod, I struggled to get myself together. To gather up the pieces littered all over the floor. No idea how I was going to recover from the aftermath.
Ryland and Preston clomped down the hall from the back, jostling and pushing each other the way they always did. I swore the two of them were louder than a stampede of bulls.
“Call was solid, man. You’re just going to have to accept it.” Ryland’s deep voice echoed through the air. Ryland was five years younger than me, close to no longer being a child.
Sixteen and as burly as a beast. Hair and eyes super dark like Mama’s.
Could hear Preston trying to be just as much a man. “Hell, no. That take down was all me. Ref was blind. Total bullshit.”
“Hey, language.” My daddy’s voice reverberated the hall behind them, the sound of his work boots banging on the floor hitting me with a rush of perfect familiarity.
I had the urge to press my hands to my chest to hold the feeling in.
To remind myself of the relationships I had been given.
To be grateful.
Not to live my life in the grief of the one I wasn’t strong enough to keep.
I pinned a smile to my face when my brothers rounded at the end of the hall.
“Yo, Frankie,” Ryland called with one of his massive grins when he saw me. It was almost as massive as the guy. Ryland was all wide, hulking shoulders, and thick muscles. Sweat and grime covered every inch of his practice football uniform. “What are you doin’ here? Didn’t think we’d see you until this weekend.”
Oh, you know, just having your everyday, run-of-the-mill meltdown.
“I just wanted to stop by to say hi.” I actually managed to keep the warble out of my voice.
Mom pointed at him when he started to plop onto the couch. “Don’t even think about it, buddy. Shower.”
He laughed. “Ah, come on, Mom, can’t handle a little man in the room?”
She arched a brow at him. “Little being the predominant word.”
He chuckled low and swiped a hand through his drenched hair. “Wow, kick a guy in the nuts, why don’t you?”
Preston raised his hand. “I’d be glad to do the honors.”
I almost laughed.
God, I loved my family.
Loved them that way that Mama was talking about. Wholly. So big and powerful and fierce that I couldn’t imagine what my life would possibly look like without them in it.