I walked to the front porch and unlocked it. A sense of comfort washed over me as I stepped inside, shutting the wooden door behind me. I had decorated the home with a farmhouse theme in mind. The floor was a light gray wood, and the walls were a deep shade of gray that met a bold white baseboard. I adored the open concept. The front door led to the living room that went into the kitchen. The bathroom was to the back of the house next to the utility room, and the bedrooms were on both sides of the house when you walked in, creating a small hallway that nestled the front door.
Slipping off my shoes, I made a beeline to the quartz kitchen counter and filled my essential oil diffuser with new water and drops of lavender oil. I grabbed a bottle of cold water from the fridge and walked back into the living room to collapse on the cream-colored polyester sofa.
I glanced around the room. I lived a minimalist life, and that was obvious from taking one step into my home. White blinds cover the windows, devoid of dust. There was no television, no bookshelf, and no dining table, only an island in the kitchen lined with bar stools. I threw a blanket over me and grabbed my purse, shuffling through it to pull out the envelope.
The envelope was heavy in my hands, and I grazed my fingertips over the paper as I pulled out the letter. I unfolded it, and my hands trembled as my eyes ran over the words Flynn wrote for me.
Evelyn,
My mouth tastes of cigarettes and heartache. My hands are shaking as I write this because my mind is filled with thoughts and memories of us. I’m sure you hate me. I don’t even blame you. I know I ruined it all. It's three in the morning overseas. I’m cold and lonely.
I lost a brother today. His brains were splattered on the wall next to me as we were clearing a house with a middle-eastern family inside. This teen boy just pulled out an AK and shot him in the fucking head, Evelyn. I reacted without hesitation and unloaded on him. It was all a blur after that, but yesterday was the first day I killed someone.
Some days I wish I had never left, but I guess I should stop wishing that. It’ll never happen. I probably won’t make it back to Violet Ridge in one piece anyway. I’m such a fuck up. I couldn’t even tell you why I left. I hid so much from you and now is as good as any other time to tell you.
You know my father was an abusive alcoholic? Fuck, of course, you don’t. Because I never told you. I hid that. The night I left, the fucker smashed a bottle of bourbon on my face, and I haven’t seen or heard from him since.
I’m sorry. I still love you, but I know we will never have a chance. I can’t face you after what I’ve done.
Flynn
I pressed my hand against my chest to ease the ache that formed. The amount of pain he must harbor, I couldn't begin to imagine. I wanted to go back and stop him from ever leaving. My chin quivered as guilt seeped into my bones. I should’ve known about his father.
Whenever Frank would drink, Flynn made up excuses for me to leave or he took me somewhere else. I showed up at Flynn's family’s house after graduation and Mrs. Rockwell tried to tell me what happened in a sobbing mess, but Frank slammed the door in my face.
I should’ve known then that something wasn’t right, but I was too selfish. I only thought of how he left me, not the reason why. My eyes dripped with salty tears that fell from my chin, splattering on the ink of the letter. The ink bled. “Shit!” I set the letter on the cushion beside me and dabbed the tears off with my shirt sleeve.
I let out a breath of relief. I hadn’t damaged the letter.
I pulled my knees to my chest and rested my head in between them. Sensory overload consumed my brain in the most unhelpful way as the panic began as a cluster of sparks in my abdomen. The past year I had learned to control my panic attacks, and I hadn’t had one since a month after I left Gerald.
Tension grew in my body as my mind replayed the last attack I had when Gerald tried contacting me from his jail cell. My breathing became more rapid, shallow. I hated being like this. I was never this way before Gerald ruined me. I let him have so much control over me that I didn’t have any control over myself anymore.
My breaths came in gasps, and my head whirled as if I’d pass out. My heart hammered inside my rib cage while I struggled to get my breathing under control.
One thought invaded my mind that helped me fight against the panic, and that was Flynn. I’d see him tomorrow evening—whether he wanted to see me or not. I sucked in a deep breath before moving my legs back down. As I exhaled, I stood up. I had a chance tomorrow that I thought I’d never have again. A weight lifted off me as I paced the room, and the panic subsided.
I’d become stronger, and for that, I was proud of myself. I was in control of my life and knew exactly what I needed to do.
My eyes were trained on some dirt marks on the wall with heavy eyelids. I’d been out on the farm all day preparing for the fall harvest, and
