Hope You Love Me

Chapter 50

Hope sat back and watched everything happen. Not just tonight, but for the last few months. Her life felt ... more like a movie to passively watch go by than anything else. It didn't feel real anymore.

If Hope had gone to therapy, she was sure it would have been labeled as disassociation, probably a way for her brain to cope with the trauma she had endured. But she had refused after the first few sessions to return. Her therapist was nice enough, but he didn't understand. He never would understand.

Hope's eyes flickered over to MG. If anyone was going to understand, it was going to be him. He stopped creating after Lizzie died, and he had lost his comic book deal. It's not like Hope was in any place to be helping him with character designs anyways. It was like a light had died in MG. That spring in his step that had persisted even after Rafael's death was gone. The sparkle in his eyes had died. His strength in spite of everything had drained.

He lived with the Kirby-Mikaelsons now. He and Josie had ended their lease about a month after Lizzie's death. It just didn't feel right living there with her empty bedroom and a million reminders about how she wasn't there, and MG couldn't afford it anyways.

Josie moved in with Finch, who she had been dating for about three months. She was doing good, as far as someone who had lost their twin sister in such a gruesome way could be doing. Hope was never really sure if she believed it or not. Lizzie's letter was pretty damning, and Josie seemed to think it was real, but Hope just didn't know how the person who knew Lizzie the best could think she was capable of such horrible things. Hope surely didn't.

There were a few times she thought about asking Lizzie's father what he thought, but he had been strangely distant. He quit his job and holed himself up "writing a book." Whatever that meant. Hope wondered if it was his coping mechanism. She feared the day that book surfaced, finished, and what it could possibly be about. Either way, he was no help.

A lot like Landon. He had been doing his absolute best to take care of his wife. He pushed, just a bit, when she wanted to stop going to therapy. It's better if you go. It's supposed to be uncomfortable. You really do need help. Hope had told him she just needed time. It wasn't a "never", it was just a "later."

She had opened up to him a few times about not believing that Lizzie was really her stalker-turned-killer. He had done everything in her power to convince her that she was. Hope didn't know if she was paranoid as shit or if he was actually doing too much to convince her. In her head, her marriage was already over, but that didn't mean Landon was the true culprit all along, despite what some small voice whispered in the back of her mind.

Her full-time job became quieting that voice. It wasn't Landon. It wasn't Lizzie, but it wasn't Landon. She didn't speak more than a few words to anyone, just one or two at a time in response to MG or Landon's first question. Subsequent questions were ignored. She couldn't handle it.

She started sleeping in the guest room. It felt nice sleeping in the last bed Lizzie had slept in, and she needed the space from Landon and her old room. She refused to use the bathroom there. She would walk all the way across the house to use a different one, no matter how badly she had to pee. That was just a step she wasn't ready for yet.

She was laying in the guest bed, sheets messy and covered in sweat, when MG knocked at her door. She just looked at him, the words to invite him in not forming in her mouth despite the effort.

"We need to talk," MG said, stepping in. He sat at the foot of her bed. There was something grave and serious about his face, even more grave and serious that it had been lately.

Her heart pounded in her chest. She was exhausted from this feeling. The absolute panic and terror that ripped through her at the slightest sign that something was wrong.

"Landon's studio called."

"Where's Landon?" Hope skipped right to the chase. She knew where this was going. Fuck, she had known it the whole time. Maybe this was the other shoe she had been waiting for. Maybe it was dropping now, and she could breathe again.

"He ... Ethan said they found him ... hanging." It pained MG to say it. Hope could see that much. But there was more he was holding back.

Hope took a shaky breath. "That's not all."

"No, it's not. They found his suicide note."

Hope shook her head. She couldn't take any more suicide notes. She had had enough for one lifetime. She feared this one was going to be strikingly similar to the last.

"He confessed to it all, Hope." MG surged forward and pulled her into a sympathetic hug. "He confessed to being the killer. He said he found out about you and his brother and it drove him over the edge and then he spiraled out of control. He ... used Lizzie as a scapegoat for all his crimes when he found out she had feeling for you too. The note said he killed himself because he couldn't live with the guilt anymore. He regretted hurting you. He just wanted you to love him completely."

It wasn't like last time, Hope realized a minute later. There was no denial coursing through her bloodstream, screaming at her that this wasn't right. This one felt real. This one made sense. She had been trying to deny it for months, but it did.

It made a lot more sense if it was Landon who was behind it all.

It didn't make it hurt any less.