I glanced around the room. I lived a minimalist life, and that was obvious from taking one step into my home. White blinds cover the windows, devoid of dust. There was no television, no bookshelf, and no dining table, only an island in the kitchen lined with bar stools. I threw a blanket over me and grabbed my purse, shuffling through it to pull out the envelope.
The envelope was heavy in my hands, and I grazed my fingertips over the paper as I pulled out the letter. I unfolded it, and my hands trembled as my eyes ran over the words Flynn wrote for me.
Evelyn,
My mouth tastes of cigarettes and heartache. My hands are shaking as I write this because my mind is filled with thoughts and memories of us. I’m sure you hate me. I don’t even blame you. I know I ruined it all. It's three in the morning overseas. I’m cold and lonely.
I lost a brother today. His brains were splattered on the wall next to me as we were clearing a house with a middle-eastern family inside. This teen boy just pulled out an AK and shot him in the fucking head, Evelyn. I reacted without hesitation and unloaded on him. It was all a blur after that, but yesterday was the first day I killed someone.
Some days I wish I had never left, but I guess I should stop wishing that. It’ll never happen. I probably won’t make it back to Violet Ridge in one piece anyway. I’m such a fuck up. I couldn’t even tell you why I left. I hid so much from you and now is as good as any other time to tell you.
You know my father was an abusive alcoholic? Fuck, of course, you don’t. Because I never told you. I hid that. The night I left, the fucker smashed a bottle of bourbon on my face, and I haven’t seen or heard from him since.
I’m sorry. I still love you, but I know we will never have a chance. I can’t face you after what I’ve done.
Flynn
I pressed my hand against my chest to ease the ache that formed. The amount of pain he must harbor, I couldn't begin to imagine. I wanted to go back and stop him from ever leaving. My chin quivered as guilt seeped into my bones. I should’ve known about his father.
Whenever Frank would drink, Flynn made up excuses for me to leave or he took me somewhere else. I showed up at Flynn's family’s house after graduation and Mrs. Rockwell tried to tell me what happened in a sobbing mess, but Frank slammed the door in my face.
I should’ve known then thatsomethingwasn’t right, but I was too selfish. I only thought of how he left me, not the reason why. My eyes dripped with salty tears that fell from my chin, splattering on the ink of the letter. The ink bled. “Shit!” I set the letter on the cushion beside me and dabbed the tears off with my shirt sleeve.
I let out a breath of relief. I hadn’t damaged the letter.
I pulled my knees to my chest and rested my head in between them. Sensory overload consumed my brain in the most unhelpful way as the panic began as a cluster of sparks in my abdomen. The past year I had learned to control my panic attacks, and I hadn’t had one since a month after I left Gerald.
Tension grew in my body as my mind replayed the last attack I had when Gerald tried contacting me from his jail cell. My breathing became more rapid, shallow. I hated being like this. I was never this way before Gerald ruined me. I let him have so much control over me that I didn’t have any control over myself anymore.
My breaths came in gasps, and my head whirled as if I’d pass out. My heart hammered inside my rib cage while I struggled to get my breathing under control.
One thought invaded my mind that helped me fight against the panic, and that was Flynn. I’d see him tomorrow evening—whether he wanted to see me or not. I sucked in a deep breath before moving my legs back down. As I exhaled, I stood up. I had a chance tomorrow that I thought I’d never have again. A weight lifted off me as I paced the room, and the panic subsided.
I’d become stronger, and for that, I was proud of myself. I was in control of my life and knew exactly what I needed to do.
My eyes were trained on some dirt marks on the wall with heavy eyelids. I’d been out on the farm all day preparing for the fall harvest, and I was fucking spent. Ma insisted I clean up before dinner. I put on some jeans and a button-up shirt, and I plopped down on the kitchen chair as she finished up the meal.
A knock on the front door snapped me out of my stupor. I glanced at Ma who hadn’t even budged from her spot near the stove before I strode off to get the door. As soon as I caught a glimpse of the woman behind the door, my stomach dropped into my ass.
A small portion of Evelyn’s hair was pulled away from her face in a small ponytail, while the rest of the curls framed her face. A thick-rimmed pair of glasses framed her curious eyes. She wore a yellow flowing dress with knee-high brown boots. She was breathtaking. My nerves were firing all at once, craving to pull her into my arms.
“Good evening, Flynn.” She gripped a familiar-looking locket around her neck with her fingers. My eyes drifted lower. Her cleavage was on display, but I averted my gaze as I cleared my throat. She was never the type to ogle, but fuck if I didn’t want to.
“What’re you here for?” My voice came out hoarse as I avoided her captivating gaze.
She stepped a little closer. I caught a whiff of lilies in blossom mixed with vanilla, a scent I’d found comfort in years ago. I lowered my head and breathed in the nostalgic smell before I snapped myself upright.
Don’t be a fucking weirdo.
“Your mom invited me for dinner. I can go if you don’t want me here.” Her bottom lip pouted out as her eyes peered up at me.
I coughed, shaking my head. How could I not want her here? “Come in. She’s in the kitchen.” I stepped back to allow her room to walk by me.
Her shoulder brushed against my chest as she walked in and made her way into the kitchen. Her smell intoxicated me. “Good evening, Mrs. Rockwell.”
“Hello, dear! How are you this evening?” Ma’s voice went up a pitch as she spoke to Evelyn. She’d always adored her, but then so did I.
I lingered near the archway between the kitchen and living room. They spoke like old friends, and it reminded me of the times she’d come by when we were in high school.
