Page 30 of Chasing Hope

Although, apparently if you’re my shitty ex-boyfriend and ex-best friend, it’s easy to not do anything about it. That should have been the biggest red flag out of everything they ever did. Because if the roles were reversed, I’d burn the world down seeking revenge.

And isn’t it sad that I’d do that for everyone else, yet not myself?

The way Matteo’s eyes pierce mine feels as if he’s making a promise to my soul as he murmurs, “If you asked me not to tell anyone, I wouldn’t. I’d never break my vow to you.”

I don’t know when it happened, but that invisible string between us pulled without either of us noticing, because we’re just inches away from one another when I whisper, “Good thing I don’t have to put that to the test.”

“What is it about this secret that has you locking it up and throwing away the key?”

“No one would be able to handle it. I myself can’t.”

Matteo shakes his head, frustration bubbling to the surface, but it’s not aimed at me. “I can handle it, Dove. Why do you think I can’t?”

Licking my suddenly dry lips, I choose to give him a sliver of the truth. “Because if I told you, you’d end up committing murder.”

Chapter 9

Evie

Google Search:

How do I stop memories from resurfacing?

Answer:

The body stores suppressed trauma and releases it when the mind has perceived it to be “safe.” Sometimes, when memories begin to resurface, it’s the brain’s way of asking you to process the emotions that occurred during a traumatic or stressful event.

Some survivors find that once this barrier is broken, they struggle to stop it or block it out anymore.

Would you like some grounding techniques to stop painful memories from taking over?

THEN - AGE FOUR

Tears stream down my face. I try not to cry, I really do, but I can’t help it.

“It burns, Mommy!”

Mommy bends in front of me on the toilet. I can tell she’s getting annoyed with how much I keep asking to go to the toilet. She sighs when she’s annoyed or tired and she’s been sighing at me a lot.

She frowns at me. “Again, Evie?” Mommy sounds so tired.

“I’m sorry,” I cry.

“Oh love, it’s nothing to be sorry about. You can’t control it.”

Helping me off the toilet, Mommy pulls up my pants. The second they’re on, I wrap my arms around her shoulders, burying my face in her neck. “You’re not mad?”

“No love, of course not.” Her voice lowers. “I just have no idea why you get so many bladder infections.”

“Is it because I’m bad?”

“No, you’re far from bad.” She strokes my hair so softly it makes my chest stop hurting.

“I promise I don’t do it on purpose.” A hiccup makes my chest shake. “I don’t want it to burn, Mommy.”

“I know, my love, I know. I’ll book another appointment with Dr. Richards, okay?”

That bad, panicky feeling in my chest fades. Dr. Richards will make the burn go away again. “Okay.”