Losing Hope

to her while I was allowing her to fall in love with me.
    * If I spend any time with her, I know I’ll slip up. I’ll call her Hope or I’ll say something about when we were kids or I’ll talk too much about you and that could spark a memory.
    * How could I ever introduce her to Mom? I’m pretty sure with as much time as Hope spent at our house, Mom would immediately recognize her.
    * I’ll do something to fuck it all up again. That’s the only thing I seem to be consistent at in this life. Fucking things up for you and Hope.
    * If I walk out of her life completely, she can go on living the contented life she’s been living for the past thirteen years.
    * If I stay, I’ll inevitably have to tell her the truth. And no matter how much she probably needs to hear the truth; it’ll turn her world upside down. I can’t watch that, Les. I just can’t.
    So there you have it in big, bold ink. I’m not telling her the truth and I’m not letting her forgive me. She’s better off without me. She’s better off keeping the past in the past and keeping me at a distance.
    H

Chapter Thirty
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    I grab the sack from the floorboard and walk to the front door, then ring the doorbell. I don’t know if this is a good idea. In fact, I know it’s not a good idea. But for whatever reason I trust him to do this for me.
    The front door opens and a woman, more than likely his mother, is standing in the doorway.
    “Is Breckin here?” I ask her.
    She starts at the top of my head, then slowly scrolls down my entire body, stopping at my shoes. It’s not the kind of scroll a guy gets from a woman who’s checking him out. It’s a scroll of disapproval. “Breckin isn’t expecting company,” she says coldly.
    Okay. I didn’t anticipate this obstacle.
    “It’s okay, Mom,” I hear Breckin say as he opens the door further. “He’s not here for my gay parts.”
    Breckin’s mother scoffs, then rolls her eyes and walks away while I’m trying to hold back my laughter. Breckin is now standing in her place, scrolling over me disapprovingly just like she did. “What do you want?”
    I shift my feet, feeling a little uncomfortable at how unwelcome I am at this house. “I want a couple of things,” I say. “I’m here to apologize, for one. But I’m also here to ask you for a favor.”
    Breckin arches an eyebrow. “I told my mother you weren’t here for my gay parts, Holder. So go ahead and apologize, but I’m not doing you any favors.”
    I laugh. I love that he can be so pissed, yet make fun of himself at the same time. That’s such a Les thing to do. “Can I come in?” I ask. I feel pretty damn awkward on the porch right now and I don’t really want to have this conversation standing in a doorway. Breckin steps back and opens the door farther.
    “That better be an apology gift,” he says, indicating the sack in my hand. He doesn’t look back or invite me to follow him as he makes his way toward the hallway, so I shut the front door and glance around, then follow him. He opens the door to his bedroom and I walk in behind him. He points to a chair. “Sit there,” he says firmly. He walks to his bed and takes a seat on the edge of it, facing me. I slowly take a seat in the chair and he rests his elbows on his knees and clasps his hands in front of him, looking me straight in the eyes. “I take it you’ll be apologizing to Sky next? After you leave here? Because she’s the one you really need to be apologizing to.”
    I set the sack down at my feet and lean back in the chair. “You’re really protective of her, aren’t you?”
    Breckin shrugs indifferently. “Well, with all the assholes treating her like shit, someone has to watch out for her.”
    I purse my lips into a tight line and nod, but don’t say anything right away. He stares at me for a while, more than likely attempting to figure out the motive behind my being here. I blow out a quick breath, then begin with what I came here to say.
    “Listen, Breckin. I’m probably not going to make a whole lot of sense, but hear me out, okay?”
    Breckin straightens up at the same time he rolls his eyes. “Please tell me you’re about to explain what the hell happened in that cafeteria. We’ve tried to analyze your behavior no less than a dozen times, but you don’t make any sense.”
    I shake my head. “I can’t tell you what happened, Breckin. I can’t. All I can tell you is that Sky means more to me than you could ever comprehend. I screwed up and