Losing Hope (Hopeless #2)(6)

Chapter Three-and-a-half

Les,

Amy’s here. She’s in your room, going through your shit.

I wonder if she had any clue as to what you were about to do? I know sometimes girls share stuff with their girlfriends that they wouldn’t share with anyone else—even twin brothers. Did you ever tell her how you really felt? Did you give her any hints at all? I’m really hoping you didn’t, because that would mean she probably feels pretty damn guilty right about now. She doesn’t deserve to feel guilty over what you did, Les. She’s been your best friend for seven years now, so I hope to hell you thought about that before you made such a selfish decision.

I feel guilty for what you did, but I deserve to feel guilty. There’s a responsibility that comes along with being a brother that doesn’t necessarily come along with being a best friend. It was my job to protect you, not Amy’s. So she doesn’t deserve to feel guilty.

Maybe that was my problem. Maybe I spent so much time trying to protect you from Grayson that I never thought who I really needed to be protecting you from was yourself.

There’s a light tap on my bedroom door, so I close the notebook and set it on the nightstand. Amy pushes open the door and I sit up on the bed. I motion for her to come in so she eases through the door and shuts it behind her. She walks over to my dresser and sets the pictures she collected down, running her finger over the top one. Tears are silently streaming down her cheeks.

“Come here,” I say, holding a hand out to her. She walks closer to me and takes my hand, then completely breaks down the second she makes eye contact with me. I continue to pull her forward until she’s on the bed and I wrap my arms around her. She curls up against my chest, sobbing uncontrollably. She’s shaking so hard and it’s almost a devastated cry, but like I said before, devastated should be reserved for mothers.

I close my eyes tightly and try not to let it all hit me like it’s hitting Amy right now, but it’s hard. I can hold it in for my mother because she needs me to be strong for her. Amy doesn’t, though. If Amy feels anything like I do, then she just needs to know there’s someone else out there just as blindsided and heartbroken as she is.

“Shh,” I say, stroking her hair. I know she doesn’t want me to console her with empty, overused words. She just needs someone to understand how she feels and I may be the only one she knows who truly does. I don’t tell her to try to stop crying, because I know it’s impossible. I press my cheek against her head, hating the fact that I’m now crying, too. I’ve done a pretty damn good job of keeping it in, but I can’t anymore. I continue to hold her and she continues to hold on to me because it’s nice to be able to find solace in such an ugly, lonely situation.

Listening to Amy cry reminds me of all the nights I used to be in this same position with Les. She wouldn’t want me to talk to her or help her stop crying. Les just needed me to hold her and let her cry, even if I had no idea why she needed it. Just being able to be here for Amy in this same small way gives me that familiar sense of being needed like I used to feel with Les. I haven’t felt needed since Les decided she didn’t need anyone.

“I’m so sorry,” Amy says, her voice muffled by my shirt.

“For what?”

She catches her breath and attempts to stop crying, but her effort is wasted with the new tears that follow. “I should have known, Holder. I had no idea. I was her best friend and I feel like everyone blames me and . . . I don’t know. Maybe they should. I don’t know. Maybe I’ve been so wrapped up in my relationship with Thomas that I missed something she was trying to tell me.”

I continue stroking her hair, empathizing with every word coming out of her mouth. “You and me both,” I sigh. I wipe the moisture away from my eyes with the back of my hand. “You know, I keep trying to pinpoint moments that might have changed the outcome. Things I might have said to her or things she might have said to me. But even if I was able to go back and change something about the past, I’m not sure that it would have changed the outcome. You don’t know that, either. Les is the only one who knows for sure why she went through with it and unfortunately she’s the only one not here to enlighten us.”

Amy lets out a small laugh, although I’m not sure why. She pulls back slightly and looks at me with a solemn expression. “She better be glad she’s not here, because I’m so mad at her, Holder.” Her somberness gives way to another sob and she brings a hand to her eyes. “I’m so, so mad at her for not confiding in me and I feel like I can’t say that to anyone but you,” she whispers.

I move her hand away from her face and look her in the eyes because I don’t want her to feel like I’m judging her for that comment. “Don’t feel guilty, Amy. Okay?”

She nods and smiles a sympathetic smile, then looks down at our hands resting on the pillow between us. I lay my hand on top of hers and smooth reassuring strokes across the top of it with my fingers. I know how she feels and she knows how I feel and it’s good to have that, even if only for a moment.

I want to tell her thank you for being there for Les all these years, but it seems so inappropriate to thank her for being there when she’s feeling the exact opposite right now. Instead, I remain quiet and bring my hand up to her face. I don’t know if it’s the magnitude of the moment or the fact that she made me feel somewhat needed again or if it’s simply because my head and my heart have been numb for so many days. Whatever it is, it’s here and I don’t want it to go away yet. I just let it completely take over while I slowly lean forward and press my mouth to hers.