Total pages in book: 65
Estimated words: 63702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63702 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 319(@200wpm)___ 255(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
“How the fuck should I know?”
I’m agitating him. Good. Maybe then he’ll give me some answers.
I point out the obvious. “You were in a relationship with her.”
He crosses his arms over his chest. “What I thought we were was nothin’ but a lie. Chloe is a fuckin’ liar.”
That’s a big statement to make.
“How did she lie?”
“I’m done here,” he mutters, dropping his arms and turning. “Make your stay here short.”
“I won’t be doing that,” I yell at his fading shadow.
Oh no.
I’ll be here to torment him for a lot longer yet.
At the very least, until I have answers.
RUNNING MY FINGERS over the exposed timber that was once covered by walls, I can’t help but think about the scrawling notes I found. Areas in the house had been covered by pictures and some type of wallpaper, and as I slowly began to pull it all down, I started finding these messages. I know as I read them that those messages are from Chloe, and she is clearly writing them to Colt.
She did a lot of renovations on this house, so she must have scratched these into the old walls before covering them.
I found the first one in the bedroom, and it made my heart do a flip flop as I read it. A date, followed by the initials C&C. Then, below it, a scratched-out message that said stop writing on the damn walls. Below is a heart with the message Never. I love you was written. After that, he responded by writing I love you more than the air I breathe.
I couldn’t help but pull my phone out to snap pictures before tearing the old wall away from the timber behind it. I don’t know what a photo is going to do, but it’s a memory that maybe, one day, Colt might want to see. I could take him the walls I pulled down, but I’m not sure he’d appreciate it. Still, I put it aside anyway, just in case I decide to take the chance.
More messages were scattered throughout the house as I removed the wallpaper. There were some in the bathroom that read Our paradise. Colt & Chloe. Then, in the kitchen, there was a poem written followed by another of Colt’s demands to stop writing on the walls. It didn’t stop her, though. On nearly every wall, there was a message. Some to him, some to her, some just scrawling thoughts.
Then, I found one from him. One that intrigued me. It was written by the front door, and as I exposed it, I found myself captivated by it. You made us a home, then you ripped it apart. I’ll never forgive you, Chloe. I hope this house burns. The pain I could almost feel radiating from the wall had my heart twisting. He’s angry. He must have written that after she left, and the hurt that was left behind is incredibly obvious from that message alone.
What did Chloe leave for?
What made her run?
I’m determined to find out.
I took the wall off with a great deal of force and put it with the other pile outside. I decided I’m going to show him these because I want to know more. I’ve become curious about their story and while I came here for one thing and one thing only, I’m finding it hard to pull myself away from what lingers within these walls. There must be a clue in this house, something to give me an idea of what went down.
Chloe isn’t the kind of woman to leave someone she so clearly loves.
It’s apparent that she adored him.
So why would she leave without a word?
Breaking his heart.
Did he do something to her?
Or was he innocent in all of this?
Staring around now after all my hard work, I can see the bones of this old house. It screams with the memories, the secrets and the lies. Today, a builder is going to come and put new drywall sheets back on, giving it new life, but that won’t take away the bitter emptiness of the hurt it holds.
Exhaling, I turn and scream when I realize a man has appeared in the doorway out of nowhere.
This place is far too quiet and out of the way.
I never hear anyone approach.
“Sorry to startle you,” he says, raising a hand. “I’m here to check all the electrics.”
Right.
I did call him.
Before putting the sheets back on the timber frame, I wanted to have someone go through and make sure all the electrical things were good. If not, he’ll make the necessary repairs before I seal it all back up. It has taken me over a week to remove all the furniture and drag it outside to an old barn by the house where I can sort through it. Then, I started on the walls and tore out the old, moldy kitchen. Left with an open space, I discovered the flooring was still good, and I only needed to replace the internal walls.