Page 22 of Wrapped in Hope

I pull into my driveway and shut off the Jeep. I step out and look across the street. The house is dark — they are still a normal married couple. I’m sure they are using their Friday night to have date night.

I take a deep breath and let myself into the dark house. I walk through the living room, flipping on lights. I move down the hall to Jane’s room. The door is cracked but the room is dark. I push the door open and stick my head inside.

“Are you awake?”

“Yes,” she replies in a hushed whisper.

I run my hand through my hair. “Do you want to have dinner? I can make us something.”

“I’m not hungry.”

Anger washes over me. “Have you eaten anything today other than prescription medications?”

I hear the rustle of the blankets. “I had a grapefruit for breakfast, a turkey sandwich for lunch, and tomato soup for dinner. Is that okay with you?” Her voice is snarky. She’s mad that I’m angry with her for not trying again, but fuck, can’t she see that I’m trying to survive on nothing?

“I thought we talked about this? I thought you were going to try. You call this trying?”

I hear the bed squeak like she’s sitting up. “I call this doing what I need to do to survive until I can die and be with my son that you forgot about a long time ago!”

That’s it. I can’t take it anymore. “Dean died five years ago! I didn’t forget. I’m in just as much pain as you are, but you don’t see me ready to roll over and die! If you want me to stay here, you’re going to have to try. Go to therapy or something, damnit!”

I slam her door closed and walk away. I don’t see her the rest of the night.

* * *

When I wakein the morning, I feel bad for yelling at her. I didn’t mean to, but she makes me so damn mad. All I want is for her to try! Am I not worth trying for? Is she really happier lying alone in bed all day than to come out and be with me, talk to me? I can’t do this much longer. It’s time to move on. I need something to live for and she’s not it.

I head to the shower and step beneath the hot flow of water. My anger starts to subside as my muscles begin to relax. I hang my head, allowing the water to rush over my black hair, letting it hang down around my face.

For some reason, my mind goes back to that kiss, that utterly perfect, forbidden kiss. My breathing picks up as I take myself in my hand and begin pumping. I think of how soft her lips are, how sweet she tastes, how tight she would be if I slid into her, and I’m tearing at the seams already, spilling every last drop into the shower drain.

The moment my heart and breathing return to normal, I’m fucking sick with myself. How could I even think of her while touching myself? For the past five years I’ve only fantasized about my wife. If I was feeling frisky, maybe a sexy model I had seen in a magazine. But Hope?

My stomach flops and I gag. I quickly cover my mouth with the back of my forearm while I shake the visions from my memory. This cannot happen. I refuse to let myself see her as someone I can have. She’s forbidden in more ways than one. I have to stop this.

I quickly dry off and fall into bed, pulling the blankets and pillows around me. I drift into a deep sleep.

“Are you ready to go?” Jane asks me when I walk into the kitchen to grab a beer.

“Yeah, I guess. Where’s Dean?”

She rolls her eyes while handing me several bags of chips. “Where do you think? There’s a pool party going on across the street. In case you didn’t understand that, it means: Hope in a bathing suit.”

I nod, catching on. I wrap my arm around her shoulders and lead her to the door.

We walk across the street and into the open gate that leads to the fenced in backyard. I quickly scan the place. Dean and Hope are on either side of a raft, floating around while quietly talking to one another.

“We’re so glad you two made it,” Lisa says, taking the bags from my hands. “We didn’t know if your work schedule would get in the way, Holden.”

I shake my head. “I wouldn’t miss it. Our little annual cookout is something I look forward to every year.”

Gary walks out of the backdoor, holding a tray of food to throw on the grill. “Holden, come lend me a hand, would ya?”

I quickly kiss Jane on the head and rush over to the grill.

“How’s things going at the shop?” Gary asks.

“Great. I just sold my first custom bike.” I smile and nudge his arm. “When do I get to build one for you?”