Love, Utley (Love Letters #1)

After Essie told me Hannah left, I turned around and went right back into the house. I went up to my bedroom and locked myself in. And after that, at every party, at every turn, Essie was there. Always flirting and touching. And I always rebuffed her. Always told her I wasn’t interested.

Except for that one night.

It was a bad loss. I had some bruised ribs. I drank too much. And when she followed me upstairs, I didn’t push her away.

I barely remember it. Only remember that I was feeling majorly sorry for myself and that she was the opposite of Hannah.

But even then, even when I thought Hannah had left me without a word, I still regretted it.

I told her to leave as soon as we woke up, and I never touched her again.

That morning was the most disgusted I’ve ever been with myself.

Until now.

I squeeze my eyes tighter, picturing Hannah from tonight. Her smiling eyes at dinner. The way she joked with her niece and her mom. The way she snapped a towel at me when I tried to enter the kitchen to help with the cinnamon rolls.

She’s happy.

She’s surrounded by family that loves her.

Everyone who loves us dies.

I press my fist harder against my chest, over my racing heart.

She found happiness, but I don’t think it was easy.

I try to just breathe.

The least of what you owe me.

I force my eyes open, looking out at the night sky.

I finally got my Hannah back, finally got to feel her warmth again, finally got her to let go with me. And that’s what I said to her.

What you owe me.

God, I’m such a piece of shit.

Pulling my driver’s door shut, I shift the car back into drive.

FORTY-NINE

HANNAH

“Good night.” I usher Mom toward the stairs.

Ever since I came out of my room, I could tell she wanted to talk to me about Maddox. But having him here for dinner is one thing. Talking about our history in front of Chelsea is another.

“Good night,” Chelsea calls down from the top of the steps.

Before Mom can stall, I flick off the lights in the living room.

“Yes, yes, good night to everyone,” Mom huffs, then continues upstairs, accepting that I don’t want to talk tonight.

It’s not that late, but we’ve done nothing but indulge in good food all day, and I think we’re all equally ready to lie in bed and scroll on our phones.

I double-check the front door, then the back, making sure they’re locked, then head into my room and shut the door.