Chapter 26 GO HOME #2
My door clicks shut behind me, and I let my head fall back against it with a dull thud. I drag in a breath and bring my palms to my eyes. Another breath. And another. Counting in my head until the shaking eases, until I can move without falling apart.
I shuffle to the bed and sink onto the mattress. My bag from earlier today sits beside me, the zipper half open. The letters are right there.
My stomach rolls.
If I had given these to Halle, if I’d opened the rest of mine before today, none of this would have happened. She wouldn’t have doubted me. Wouldn’t have hesitated.
Fuck. I did this.
My fingers hover over the zipper. I don’t take a breath as I pull it the rest of the way open.
The letters shift inside the bag. I stare at them for a beat, and my chest caves in.
“I should have done this sooner,” I whisper into the empty room.
I reach for one, my fingers trembling around the creased edges. My vision burns, pressure building behind my eyes. Leaning forward, elbows braced on my knees, I press the paper to my forehead.
Madison’s scream pierces through my head, and something in me snaps. My teeth clamp down, jaw aching as my stomach hardens. I rake my hand through my hair, then straighten, tipping my chin and tearing open the envelope.
Hunter,
Things are getting harder…
My breath stutters. I flip the paper over, my heartbeat pounding in my ears.
That’s it.
That’s the letter.
Reaching into the bag, I drag out the next envelope, not giving myself time to think, to hesitate, and tear it open.
Hunter,
I worry for Halle. She doesn’t have many friends.
I see the way she walks into school with her head dropped low, her grip tightening around her bag like she’s afraid someone might steal it.
I see the way everyone looks at her, the sneers, the roaming eyes.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. I know how much she loves art.
Drawing, painting, being creative it’s all she does.
There’s an art store in town. I’m going to go in sometime this week and hope the owner will give her a chance.
Even if they can’t give her a job with her being so young, maybe she could help for experience.
Have a place she can go to when it all gets too much. I don’t know what else to do.
Discomfort coils in my stomach, but I keep going. I tear open the next one.
Hunter,
Today was a good day. A really good day.
Ray left the house early, and we knew he wouldn’t be home until later tonight.
We don’t often get days to ourselves anymore, not without him in the house and me having a day off work.
Halle called Sarah over. We baked cookies, made a mess.
We laughed so much my cheeks hurt now. Don’t worry, though.
We cleaned everything up so when Ray comes home, he won’t know what happened.
Sarah took some cookies home with her, and Halle ate the rest of hers after dinner.
We really needed a day like today. It was the best.
I just wish you were here with us. We miss you. I miss you. I hope wherever you are, you’re okay. That you are doing what you set out to do. Building a life for yourself, building a life for your sister.
My palms go clammy as I dig the next envelope from the bag. My thoughts rattle with every word I’ve read so far. It’s proof that she was once here. Drawing in a sharp breath, I peel open the next.
Hunter,
I don’t know how much more of this I can take. Everything is hard. I’m tired.
I open the next. And the next. Three, four, five letters deep, they all blur together.
Short. To the point, like she didn’t have the strength to keep writing, like her words ran out.
None of them are dated, leaving me with no way of knowing how long she was carrying this alone, how much time passed between one breaking point and the next.
Heat creeps up my spine as my fingers curl around the last two envelopes. A sudden urge rises in me, wanting to rip them apart, toss them out, and pretend I never opened the bag at all. What’s the point in knowing all this now?
Still, there’s a tight pull inside my chest. A thread desperate to keep stitching. If I don’t see this through, if I don’t read every last word she left behind, I’ll never be the man Madi deserves. I’ll never outrun this.
Hunter,
Sweetheart, my baby boy. I don’t know how long it’s been since I last wrote to you.
I’m not even sure why I keep trying. I know these letters will never find you.
I know you’ll never come back to this place.
I guess, somewhere along the way, they became a diary, something to keep me company when it all feels too heavy.
Ray’s drinking is worse. He stumbles home late at night, reeking of stale beer and sickly perfume. It makes me sick.
I finally got the courage to try to leave. A lovely lady at work was helping me. I packed Halle a secret bag and stashed away a little cash. We were going to disappear, finally. Come find you, but he found out. He took it out on me. He hit me. He hurt me. He wouldn’t let me go.
He didn’t take it too well. I won’t worry you with the details.
I’ve been too afraid to try again. Too scared that next time, Halle will be the one who pays for it.
She’s safe by the way. He yells at her, tears her down with his words, and I’m terrified those words will do more damage than he realizes.
Every time he calls her trash, a burden, a waste of space, I see her shrink a little more.
She’s working at the art store now. Spends all her time there when I’m not home.
I’m so proud of her. She’s become such a beautiful young woman.
Her strength to keep pushing, her stubborn need to keep going, helps me, you know.
Without her, I think I would have given up a long time ago.
I dream of the day you’re reunited.
I miss you. We miss you.
I hope you’ve found new friends. Maybe even a girl to love. You’ll treat her right, okay? Like your daddy treated me. That’s what you must look up to—
Her words stop.
No ending. No closure to the letter, just an abrupt stop.
A heavy sigh leaves me as I fall back onto my bed, curling onto my side.
The letter stays clenched in my fingers, the paper creasing under my grip as I stare at the page, at the scratched-out lines.
I wonder what she crossed out. What she didn’t want to worry me with.
My stomach drops, having a pretty good idea.
Questions stack on top of each other, pressing in. There are too many, and there will never be any answers to them. Maybe that’s for the better.
Exhaustion crashes over me, sinking deep into my bones. My eyelids burn, the words blurring at the edges as the steady thud in my chest slows.
The door creaks open, and Connor pokes his head through, worry etched into his face, eyes tired and searching. Ace pads in between his feet, then hops onto the end of the bed.
“Sorry, my man,” Connor says quietly. “Ace was sitting by your door. You know him, always wanting to be near whoever needs it most. Is he okay to sleep in here? If not, I can take him back out, but he’ll probably end up scratching at your door all night.”
“He’s okay. I could… uh, use the comfort,” I say, my voice rough.
“That’s what he’s for. Unless you need me too. Then I call shotgun on being the big spoon.”
A huff of laughter slips out of me, feeling surprisingly easy.
“No spooning,” I say. “But I’ll take your dog.”
“At this stage,” he grumbles, a soft smile playing at his mouth, “I think he’s everyone’s dog. First Asher, then Halle, Remi, and now you.”
“Yeah, but you’re his first daddy.” I smirk.
He chuckles, tapping the doorframe once before easing it shut.
“Hey, Con,” I say, stopping him before the door closes. “I’m… I’m glad you guys are here tonight.”
Connor meets my eyes. Understanding passes between us without words, and he gives a small nod as the door clicks shut.