New Forever (3 page)

My parents tainted my past and cursed my future.

Seeing her picture only reminded me that I owed it to Hannah to live out a life of remorse since my parents weren’t capable of feeling any. And Hayley? I had to leave her so I wouldn’t break what she had worked so hard toward. It took three years for her to get to a place where her sister’s death didn’t haunt her. Knowing my past would be like living her sisters death all over again.

Not wanting to leave Hayley with the burden of our joint responsibilities, I wiped my bank account clean and transferred all the money I had earned into her account. She’d have enough to pay all her bills and our joint bills, as well as take a two week trip to Hawaii and still have a few grand left over. It’s the least I could do.

Besides, it shouldn’t take me long to be able to afford rent for a studio apartment. I’d just need internet access to finish up my current web design and book cover projects. I was grateful to Dee, one of the only three friends I had, for entrusting me to design the cover her first self-published book and her website. That one opportunity had opened my life to endless possibilities.

For a short time, I was able to live a life with Hayley in the apartment we shared. We cocooned ourselves in our sanctuary and lived comfortably, believing our existence together would last a lifetime. As word got around about my involvement in Dee’s success, clients came pouring in. I immersed myself in learning and perfecting my craft until I earned enough to be able to pamper Hayley. I wanted to give her everything, but I couldn’t give her what she most craved – me.

I couldn’t allow her to carry the load of my parents’ sins. Even before I knew the girl of my past was Hannah, I knew sharing my troubles wouldn’t be fair. But it was more than fairness that I was afraid of. I was afraid of her judgment. She’d see me differently. So, I kept that part of my life hidden, and then ran when I realized the past had slammed its fist into my present.

A week, maybe two, and then I’d be off the streets.

Rather than feeling liberated, the thought almost depressed me. I didn’t like living on the streets, but I didn’t hate it either. I found a sense of belonging in alleyways and under overpasses. But more importantly, it felt justified.

A life for a life. My parents had a direct hand in ending the life of a young girl whose sister and parents still mourned for, so I sacrificed my own life for hers. I couldn’t bring her back, but I could live in a hell equal to the one she lived while she graced us with her presence on earth for such a short time.

I’d take beatings and equate it to the mental deterioration she had experienced while fighting the demons my father had cast upon her. I’d go hungry because her soul had starved for an affection she had been promised, but stripped of in the cruelest of ways. I’d go days without bathing because the deceptions and lies left me dirtier than the grime beneath my fingernails.

And whenever I passed a mirror or window, I’d force myself to look at my reflection and remind myself I deserved this life. Because I hadn’t seen what was in front of me. Had I been less self-absorbed in my own selfish life, I would have seen my parents more accurately. And I could have prevented Hannah’s death.

Cuddle time with Josie is just what I needed.

Scratch that. Play time with Josie is just what I needed
, I think as I sit up from Dee and Adam’s couch with Josie poking my face and squeezing my nose. Ever since she’s discovered the wonders that are noses, all she wants to do is yank on them.

I gently push her light brown hair away from chubby cheeks and smile into her dark brown eyes. She’s the perfect mixture of Dee and Josh, even though I’ve only seen Josh from pictures. Josh’s tragic death set forward a whirlwind of emotions and actions that neither Dee nor Adam could have predicted. But the smile that radiates from within Josie and spreads across the room like a beacon only shows how deeply she is loved and cared for.

“I’m taking Josie to the beach!” I shout over my shoulder as Dee runs around her three bedroom house, looking for a lost shoe, or hair brush, or something.

Just as I put Josie in her stroller Adam appears with a bottle of sunblock.

“Oh, thanks.” I smile into his sexier than thou face. “But I need some color,” I tease.

He rolls his eyes at me as he tosses me the bottle. “Put some on Josie before you leave. I’m gonna find her hat.”

“The sun is good for you, Adam,” I call after him, rolling my eyes back at him. He can be quite the over protective parent, but I quietly commend him for being such a top-notch Dad.

Shortly after I lather Josie with the lotion, Adam slaps one of Dee’s big floppy sun hats on my head just before he carefully places Josie’s hat on her head.

“Does it improve my appearance?” I bat my eyes at Adam and twirl around for him while I keep my hand on my hat.

“Smart ass,” he chuckles.

Unlike Dee and just about every other person on this earth, I don’t go to the beach to find solace. No, I go for the fun of it. To run along the shore, search for seashells, and crash into the ferocious waves. Because there’s more to life than simply building sand castles and wishing on stars. There are hermit crabs to catch, fish to swim with, tides to swim away from.

I’ve never been one to simply bask in the sunlight. No, I come alive under the sun and dance when the wild sea air caresses my face. The world around me is nothing more than a stage and I have always felt it was my duty to entertain not just the people around me, but myself. It’s important to me to remind those I care about to enjoy life, even when tragedy strikes. Or, maybe, especially when tragedy strikes. Finding joy and humor when we want to hide in the corner and cry is the greatest way to give life the middle finger and show her you can’t be defeated.

Then, there’s Josie. I have made it my responsibility as her self-appointed aunt to show her the ropes. The ‘ropes’ being anything that seems out of reach but is actually very attainable. I want her to know anything is possible, she just has to chase after whatever she has her eyes set on. I want her to take off in a full-fledged run after anything and everything her heart desires.

Nope, I don’t find solace at the beach, but with the wind in my hair and the sand beneath my feet I find a determination that keeps me moving no matter the circumstance.

“Bir!” Josie screams from the stroller, and I follow her eyes and outstretched hand to the birds resting on the sand.

“Birds,” I agree, taking her out of the stroller. “Does Josie want to chase some birds with Auntie?”

Her squeals let me know she does, so I take her hand when her toes touch the sand and together we run towards the seagulls, who quickly take flight when they see and hear us approaching them.

“Birs!” she screams again so I lift her in the air and twirl her in circles so she too can experience flying.

After a few spins, I plop down on the sand with Josie still laughing in my arms. She lies down beside me, our heads touching as we stare into the sky and watch our birds fly away.

That’s the thing about birds and, well, all creatures. Eventually they leave us and we are helpless to do anything but watch them go. But if we’re lucky, the memories they leave us with will be enough.

I sit up so I can watch Josie explore her surroundings while I trace the tattoo of a bird on the top of my left foot. One small bird in flight, that’s it. No crazy colors or pretty little swirly lines. Just a simple, free spirited bird that means more to me than any hair on my body because of what it embodies – Hannah. My identical twin sister, who I ignored in life but can’t get away from in death.

Her death was my destruction, but her salvation. That’s how unalike we always were. That’s how deceiving life is.

We looked the same, right down to our dimpled butt cheeks, but that’s where the similarities ended. At least, until her death. Until her depression strangled her so completely that she killed herself. Her suicide freed her, but imprisoned me. I’d never known what depression was or the depths it could drag you to. After realizing the truth – that she was gone forever, and reading her suicide letter for the hundredth time, depression wrapped its arms around me and seduced me into the darkest of lairs.

Hannah and I were finally completely identical. Our differences no longer existed. I finally understood my sister and the war that waged inside of her, while the only war I had fought was to become prom queen. How naïve and stupid was I? How badly I wanted to go back to those stupid, naïve days where my world stood on its proper axis.

Or better yet, go back to the days when we were kids and our differences didn’t matter because we were sisters. We’d slept in the same room and talked about nothing and everything. We had been each other’s best friend until I changed and pushed her away, seeking attention from people who weren’t even a part of my life now, people who never really mattered. I pushed her away and felt nothing but embarrassment when I looked at her.

Brushing my mood to the side, I pick Josie up with a quick twirl before we start to walk the shoreline looking for shells. I pick up a couple for Josie to inspect and watch her carefully to make sure she doesn’t put any in her mouth.

“Pwetty,” she tells me and puts one in her pocket.

Taking my hand, she guides me to another shell and gives it to me to inspect. It’s a pretty pink shell with a soft, smooth surface, almost completely round except for a small jagged chip. Like a wounded sun.

The tears I hadn’t shed for Max threaten me as I remember us…

“Lets go, lazy bones!” Max calls out to me so I flip him off.

He and Adam need to get a life outside the gym. Sure, his abs look great, his arms are edible, and his finely toned ass leaves me gasping, but even I can’t keep up with the insuppressible energy he’s found.

Out of breath, I refuse to run after him any longer and just stand there watching him. He’s beautiful. His chiseled muscles gleam in the sunlight, accentuating the tattoos covering his body. My favorite is the tattoo of several birds. Like my solo tattoo, his birds are in flight.

Free, which is how I feel when I’m with him. He catches me staring at him and smiles back at me, crinkling the corners of his eyes as his smile takes over his face. I want to reach out and push aside the strands of his ashy blond hair that are flying around his face and stroke his jaw. Strangely, his jaw is one of my favorite features. It’s squared, making him look far more intimidating than he actually is. Sure, he can be intimidating in his own right, but I’ve never felt anything but safe with him.

I finally walk to him and wrap my arms around his neck as he pulls me closer to him. Even sweaty he smells good. I lick the sweat from his neck and kiss his mouth when he moans.

“You’re beautiful,” I tell him and he narrows his eyes at me. “Perfect like the sun.”

He kisses my forehead and laughs. “The sun?”

“Yeah.” I nod my head that is tucked under his chin. “You brighten up the world around you.”

My declaration of love makes him laugh harder. I’d be offended, but I love his laugh. It’s a deep masculine rumble that stems all the way from his stomach.

“I’m not perfect, Hay, but I can be your sun,” he whispers in my ear, sending shivers throughout my entire body. “I’m more of a wounded sun though.”

He dips his head down and kisses me deeply until I forget everything – where we are, what we had been talking about, what my name is.

That was my reality until it wasn’t. Life and its many twists and turns didn’t permit for my reality to last as long as I had wished for, but it’d given me plenty of memories that would have to hold me over.

In the two years we’d been together, I never questioned his remark about being wounded. I just accepted it as a part of his past he didn’t want to discuss. Now I wish I had. Maybe then we could have had a future together and he wouldn’t have fled.

***

The trip to Tampa seemed shorter than it actually was with our constant chatter and laughter. Thankfully, Dee only asked about Max once and my response seemed to appease her. I know I’ll eventually have to tell her we broke up, but I want to wait until I’ve fully grasped and accepted it before making my confession. I know she’d help me pick up all the broken pieces he left behind, but I kind of want to do that myself. Or at least the bulk of it.