Losing Hope

me to kiss her more intimately.
    We continue to kiss for several minutes, because I don’t know that either of us wants to face the truth just yet. I lift up onto my knees without breaking away from her and I climb on top of her. She runs her hand through my hair and to the back of my head, where she pulls against me, urging me closer.
    She begins to clench my shirt with her fists as a cry breaks free from her throat. I move my lips to her cheek and kiss her softly, then lower my mouth to her ear. “I’m so sorry,” I whisper, holding on to her with my free hand. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t want you to know.”
    She pushes me off her, then sits up. She pulls her knees to her chest and buries her face in them.
    “I just want you to talk, Holder. I asked you everything I could ever ask you on the way here. I need you to answer me now so I can just go home,” she says, sounding tired and exhausted. I stroke her hair and give her the answers she needs.
    “I wasn’t sure if you were Hope the first time I saw you. I was so used to seeing her in every single stranger our age, I had given up trying to find her a few years ago. But when I saw you at the store and looked into your eyes . . . I had a feeling you really were her. When you showed me your ID and I realized you weren’t, I felt ridiculous. It was like the wake-up call I needed to finally just let the memory of her go.
    “We lived next door to you and your dad for a year. You and me and Les . . . we were all best friends. It’s so hard to remember faces from that long ago, though. I thought you were Hope, but I also thought that if you really were her, I wouldn’t be doubting it. I thought if I ever saw her again, I’d know for sure.
    “When I left the grocery store that day, I immediately looked up the name you gave me online. I couldn’t find anything about you, not even on Facebook. I searched for an hour straight and became so frustrated that I went for a run to cool down. When I rounded the corner and saw you standing in front of my house, I couldn’t breathe. You were just standing there, worn out and exhausted from running and . . . Jesus , Sky. You were so beautiful. I still wasn’t sure if you were Hope or not, but at that point it wasn’t even going through my mind. I didn’t care who you were; I just needed to know you.
    “After spending time with you that week, I couldn’t stop myself from going to your house that Friday night. I didn’t show up with the intention of digging up your past or even in the hope that something would happen between us. I went to your house because I wanted you to know the real me, not the me you had heard about from everyone else. After spending more time with you that night, I couldn’t think of anything else besides figuring out how I could spend more time with you. I had never met anyone who got me the way you did. I still wondered if it was possible . . . if you were her. I was especially curious after you told me you were adopted, but again, I thought maybe it was a coincidence.
    “But then when I saw the bracelet . . .”
    I need her to look me in the eyes for this, so I lift her chin and make her look at me.
    “My heart broke, Sky. I didn’t want you to be her. I wanted you to tell me you got the bracelet from your friend or that you found it or you bought it. After all the years I spent searching for you in every single face I ever looked at, I finally found you . . . and I was devastated.” As soon as I say the word, I regret it. Because I know that isn’t true. I was upset. I was overwhelmed. But I didn’t even know the meaning of devastated. I sigh and finish my confession. “I didn’t want you to be Hope. I just wanted you to be you.”
    She shakes her head. “But why didn’t you just tell me? How hard would it have been to admit that we used to know each other? I don’t understand why you’ve been lying about it.”
    God, this is so hard.
    “What do you remember about your adoption?”
    “Not a lot,” she says, shaking her head. “I know I was in foster care after my father gave me up. I know Karen adopted me and we moved here from out of state when I was five. Other than that and a few odd memories, I don’t know anything.”
    She’s not getting it. That’s not what she remembers at all. It’s what she’s been told . I move from my position beside her and sit directly in front of her, facing her. I grab her by the shoulders. “That’s all stuff