Free My Hope Next Door by Tammy L. Gray Page A

her dad, and various strained muscles among them, they finally closed the truck bed behind the couch, each of them gasping for air. Her father was wheezing so badly she had to bite her tongue not to remind him that smoking tends to wreak havoc on one’s lungs. But even she knew when her old man had reached the breaking point, and he was there.
    “That’s the last time I cater to your stubborn, stupid pride. Next time, we get more help,” he announced between puffs. Without even a thank-you to their guest, he stomped up the rotted front steps and slammed the door.
    Asher jumped from the bed of the truck, and Katie fought the urge to kick the tires repeatedly. Buried rage swelled in her belly, reminding her why she’d spent most of her adolescence either gone or locked in her room with Laila.
    “I’m so sorry. I had no idea he was in such a mood.” She closed her eyes, humiliated by her family. It wasn’t worth it. Here she was sacrificing and suffering for them, and yet they both seemed to resent her all the more for it.
    “Is it always like that between you and your dad?”
    She pulled at a hangnail until the sting forced her to stop. “No, sometimes we throw in awkward silence and uncomfortable small talk.”
    “And your mom?”
    “The same. Just add in a dose of sarcasm and a heaping spoonful of bitterness.”
    Her body sagged against the truck. “I had hoped it would be different than before.” Though she didn’t know why. Nothing had changed. If anything, her inability to connect with her parents had only worsened.
    “Are they the reason you left town?”
    She wished it were that simple. “No. I left town because I couldn’t breathe here anymore.”
    And suddenly, that feeling returned. The constricting regret, the ache of knowing she’d hurt so many. She tried to focus on Asher. His long legs, the way his elbow barely touched her arm, the careful way he asked just enough to know her but never pushed too hard.
    “I’ve felt that way before too. Like I couldn’t breathe,” he said.
    Her pulse settled, and she studied his profile. “What did you do?”
    “The same thing you did. I left.” He shifted his body so that he faced her direction. “How did you know it was time to come back?”
    “I can’t really explain it. My dad called to tell me about my mom’s diagnosis, and I just knew. Even before he asked me, I knew it was time. Like something deep inside was pushing me, telling me to go.” She’d fought with herself about it too. Her life had finally become stable. She had a new apartment and a job, and yet she’d packed up and left it all behind. Because she still believed that if she could do one good deed, maybe all the bad ones would stop haunting her.
    “Were you happy in Florida?”
    “Not at first.” Not even close. Her first two years had been spent flitting between boyfriends, crashing apartments, and so entrenched in darkness that it was a wonder she ever broke free. “But later I was.” After that wonderful night when she’d surrendered her life to Christ.
    “Like I said before, I think you’re incredibly brave.”
    She shrugged, uncomfortable with his compliment. He didn’t know her. He didn’t know everything she was hiding from. “It’s just a few months, right? I’ll get them settled and then go back to my life in Tallahassee. I lived with them for twenty-two years. I can certainly last a summer.”
    “And you have your friends, right? I remember a certain blonde who stayed permanently attached to your hip in high school.”
    A gust of wind spun through the air, making the trees rustle and the birds chirp, but all she could feel was grief. And it hurt. Deep inside her, under her rib cage, beneath her lungs, the memories pulsed with never-ending shame. “I don’t have anyone. Not anymore.”
    His hand brushed hers. “You have me. I’m right next door, and I’m kinda short on friends right now too.”
    She cleared her throat, managing to banish the worst of