Memories That Still Haunt Us

Chapter Three:

Back at the house, I decide now is a good time to unpack my things. It takes me a few trips to bring things from my car and into the guest house, which, thankfully, was unlocked. I need to ask Ellis about having a key to the house and requesting that the lock be on the inside.

            Once I'm finished carrying all the boxes in, I'm hot, despite the gloomy weather. I change out of my oversized brown knit sweater and pull on a lightweight hoodie that represents my college. A gift from Lake once I found out I got accepted into the school. I've never been one for school spirit. Showing up at games and cheering on the teams, letting everyone know what school I attend. It always felt cheesy and fake. I never liked my schools enough to flaunt them or support them. Lake was a player on our high school football team, and it was one of our main arguments about how I never showed up to games to support him.

            It sounded like torture. I would tell him how most of the guys on the team were not people I wanted to be cheering on, to which he would act out defensively, saying they were his "bros". I'd laugh at that, sending him into more of a rage. I'm not sure I ever really liked him. But Lake was a convenience. He drove me wherever I wanted him to drive me, paid for our meals every time, allowed me to stay at his house as often as I liked. I found no reason to dump him, even if I found him cringy and annoying most of the time. Most of our breakups were on his end, when he couldn't stand how I'd never let him in.

            "I want to know you. We've been dating for months, and I don't know anything about you." He'd say, to which I'd simply shrug it off, not interested in offering him any sort of explanation.

            Why would I tell him anything when I knew this relationship had an expiration date? It's easier to stay quiet. To put on this face. At the end of the day, he and most guys don't really want to listen to my story or the traumas I've faced in the past; they just want someone to stroke their ego. Someone they can stick their dick in without having to listen to me complain or boo-hoo about my problems.

            Lake said he wanted to know me, but I knew it wasn't true.

            Grabbing a claw clip from my bathroom bag, I twist my hair up into a knot, pulling some strands of curls loose around my face. Now that all my bags are here, the only thing left to do is unpack.

            I look at all the trash bags full of my clothes, books, and other random items.

            Yeah, that's the last thing I want to do right now. So, instead, I move across the lawn towards the back door of the house. Inside, it's quiet besides the muffled sound of Ellis talking on the phone inside his office.

            There are dishes piling in the sink, so I shove my sleeves up to my elbows and begin working on those. Next, I walk up the stairs and move into Beck's room, gathering his dirty laundry off the floor and stuffing it into a hamper.

            I'm assuming Mrs. Bythesea wants me to do their laundry too. But going into their room and collecting their laundry feels evasive. I hesitate outside their door. It's open, so I can see inside. The massive king-size bed. The accent wall behind the bed is green with paneling. A large window leading out to an iron-fenced balcony that overlooks the front.  The bedroom has soft carpet that looks so fluffy it's like it's never even been stepped on before.

            Hesitantly, I move into their room. There's a wedding photo of Ellis and Mrs. Bythesea on her nightstand. They are standing on a cliff with the ocean in the background. He's in a suit, while she's in a modest, sleek wedding dress. It's simple, with her hair in long, red curls blowing in the breeze around her face. He looks down at her with a look of pure love and admiration, a smile on his face. So that's how he looks when he's smiling.