Losing Hope (Hopeless #2)(68)

A rush of breath escapes my lungs and I can feel the tears following. I look up to the ceiling to try to hold them back. I close my eyes and press my forehead against my arm, inhaling the breath that will encase the voice that will release the one word that will destroy her again.

“Yes.”

Her eyes grow wide and she just stands there, slowly shaking her head. I can’t even imagine what must be going through her head right now.

She suddenly shoves past me, out into the hallway. “Sky, wait,” I yell as she descends the steps two at a time. I rush after her, trying to catch her before she leaves. As soon as she hits the bottom step, she collapses to the floor.

“Sky!” I drop to my knees and take her in my arms, but she’s pushing against me. I can’t let her run. She needs to know the rest of the truth before she leaves here.

“Outside,” she breathes. “I just need outside. Please, Holder.”

I know how it feels to need air this badly. I release my hold and look her in the eyes. “Don’t run, Sky. Go outside, but please don’t leave. We need to talk.”

She nods and I help her stand up. She walks outside and into the front yard where she tilts her head back and stares up at the stars.

Up at the sky.

I watch her the whole time, wanting nothing more than to hold her. But I know that’s the last thing she wants right now. She knows I’ve been lying to her and she has every right to hate me.

After a while, she finally turns and heads back inside. She brushes past me without making eye contact and she walks straight into the kitchen. She takes a bottle of water out of the fridge and opens it, downing several gulps before finally making eye contact with me.

“Take me home.”

I’ll get her out of the house, but I’m not taking her home.

We’re at the airport now. I couldn’t think of anywhere else quiet enough to take her and I refused to take her home until she asked me everything she needs to ask me. The only thing she asked me with any sincerity on the way here was why I got my tattoo. I told her the same thing I told her last time she asked me about it; only this time I think she actually understood.

“Are you ready for answers?” I ask her. We’ve been silently watching the stars for several minutes now. I’m just trying to give her a chance to calm down. To clear her head.

“I’m ready if you’re actually planning on being honest this time,” she says, anger lacing her voice.

I turn to face her and the hurt in her eyes is as prominent as the stars in the sky. I lift up onto my elbow and look down at her.

Just a while ago I was looking down at her this same way, memorizing everything about her. When we were in that moment on my bed I was looking at her with so much hope. I felt like she was mine and I was hers and that moment and feeling would last forever. But now, looking down at her . . . I feel like it’s all about to end.

I lower my hand to her face and touch her. “I need to kiss you.”

She shakes her head. “No,” she says resolutely.

I feel like tonight is the end of us and if she doesn’t let me kiss her one more time it’ll kill me. “I need to kiss you,” I say again. “Please, Sky. I’m scared that after I tell you what I’m about to tell you . . . I’ll never get to kiss you again.” I grasp her face harder and pull her closer. “Please.”

Her eyes are desperately searching mine, possibly to see if there’s any shred of truth behind my words. She doesn’t say anything. She just barely nods, but it’s enough. I lower my head and press my lips firmly against hers. She grasps my forearm with her hand and parts her lips, allowing 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.