Coming Home

One

It's been five years since I left my hometown. Five years since I willingly turned my back on everyone and everything I'd ever known. I left town just hours after my high school graduation, with nothing but an old backpack stuffed with clothes and the meager contents of my bank account that I'd somehow managed to save while waiting tables on weekends. Five whole years, and I never once looked back, never even thought about returning.

That is until I received the phone call about my grandmother's passing.

That's exactly what's brought me here, staring out the passenger window of my overly fancy rental car as my equally fancy boyfriend drives us from the airport to the small town that I used to call home. The anxiety builds alarmingly quickly in my stomach as the glittery snowflakes swirl in the cold air, long-suppressed memories of the life I left behind suddenly flooding my mind. The closer we get to our destination, the more I am assured that I would likely never have returned if it hadn't been for that phone call.

Leave it to the death of a loved one to send you straight back to the hell you promised yourself you'd never step foot in again.

As soon as my eyes land on the old, familiar house where I once lived, I'm immediately overwhelmed with a torrent of emotions, none of them positive in the least. However, I brush my feelings aside, stuffing them deep into the farthest corner of my mind, willing myself to remain strong and unbothered. Well, at least to appear it; I refuse to show the people in this wretched place a single weakness. Slipping on a mask of indifference, I exit the car as it stops in front of the home.

Home.

It's such a bittersweet concept, you know? It's supposed to be a place of comfort and belonging, something that fills your heart with contentment and warmth and unequivocal happiness. Unfortunately, I can't relate.

"Are you okay, Babe?" Theo asks, taking my hand in his and squeezing it lightly. The action is likely meant to be comforting; however, I find no such sense of relief within it. Perhaps I can blame our current location for my lack of connection to my partner. "Are you ready for this?" he asks, gesturing toward the building before us.

I nod once and simply reply, "As ready as I'll ever be."

Theo gives my hand another, slightly firmer squeeze. While his touch does little to none to ease my discomfort, I find myself appreciative of the effort, if only remotely. Together, we make our way up the walk to the front door of the house I had hoped to never see again. Before I can knock, the door swings open, revealing a face that haunts my memories and dreams alike. The man gives Theo and me the once-over before stepping aside to allow us entry into the building.

"Come in, Alexis," the man says, motioning with his hand into the home. His voice is like ice, hard, sharp, and incredibly cold, freezing the blood in my veins the very second the words slip off his tongue. While I hadn't expected a warm welcome, I also hadn't been entirely prepared for the intensity of the pain in my heart that would come with my return here.

Theo gives me an odd look before following me into the house, but he remains silent. His confusion is wholly understood by me; I haven't exactly opened up to him about what happened here all those years ago. Keeping my mask secured, I pretend not to notice my boyfriend's growing curiosity as we stand in the entryway of the home. Taking a look around the room, I see that everything seems to be exactly as I remember it; I can't say I'm surprised, but I also don't think I like it. I hold back a shudder that desperately tries to make its way down my spine as I turn back to the man with the haunting face and say, "Hello, Dad." The word almost makes me vomit, but I restrain myself. Choking down the urge to regurgitate my stomach's contents all over him, I add, "This is my boyfriend, Theo."

"Theodore Aldrich," Theo says, holding out his hand to my father. I want to grab Theo's arm and pull it back, to do absolutely anything to keep him from touching this man who has caused me so much harm in the past. But I don't; I don't do anything other than stand there and fake politeness, even though it practically physically hurts me to do so.

Eyeing him suspiciously, my father shakes Theo's hand. "Yes, I know who you are," he admits gruffly, his tone clearly displaying his displeasure about this interaction. Honestly, I don't even blame him; I'm not particularly fond of this reunion, either. "I've seen your face on TV. Name's Dean. Dean Miller." Turning to me, my father says, "You can settle into your old room if you'd like. Everyone else is in the kitchen."

"Thanks, Dad, but we won't be staying here. We'll be staying at the hotel in town," I reply, avoiding eye contact with him before making my way to the kitchen.

He is out of his mind if he actually believed I would stay in this house, especially after everything that happened within these very walls five years ago.

As I enter the kitchen with Theo and my dad right behind me, a hush instantly takes over the room, silencing all conversation and noise that was there prior to my arrival. Every pair of eyes turns toward the doorway, unsure how to respond to my sudden presence. I pretend not to be bothered by the obvious unease that fills the air, telling myself that I shouldn't feel hurt by these people anymore. As much as I'd like to write off the negative emotions that are currently strangling the occupants of the room in relation to the death in the family, I know better. I know that it's much more than that. Instead of acknowledging the ever-growing discomfort, I take Theo's hand in mine and do my best to ignore all the stares coming our way.

"Alexis, it's good to see you," Uncle Dave says, although the tone of his voice says something entirely different. A sharp pang in my chest reminds me that that particular wound is still fresh, and I swallow thickly in an attempt to remove the lump that suddenly formed in my throat. "It's been a long time, Kid. Who's your guest?"

I hum at him, uncertain whether or not I should trust my voice to speak to him. Deciding that it's probably best if I remain civil, I respond, "Hello, Uncle Dave. This is my boyfriend, Theo Aldrich."

As Uncle Dave stares at Theo with wide eyes, he repeats, "Theo Aldrich? As in millionaire CEO of Aldrich Enterprises?" The shock on his face is apparent and could be readable by even the most socially inept of people; I hadn't realized that some people in this town would liken being introduced to my boyfriend to meeting a celebrity.

"The one and only," Theo says, a smug smile on his face. I refrain from rolling my eyes, but the urge is hard to suppress. "It's nice to meet you all, if not for the unfortunate circumstances."

"Dave, you can drool over Lexi's boyfriend tomorrow, now is not the time," Aunt Levinia says before turning to me, plastering on a wide fake smile. "It's been quite the day of travel for you dears; I'm sure you're exhausted. Why don't you have some rest tonight, and we can catch up in the morning?"

"Thank you, Aunt Levinia," I reply, genuinely thankful for the change of subject. And also the opportunity to get away from these people, if only for the night. "Theo and I will be staying at the hotel in town if any of you need us for anything."

Mumbled goodbyes can be heard around the kitchen as my father walks Theo and me back to the front door of his house. Just as I'm about to finally make my escape from this hellhole, my father grabs my arm tightly. Pressing his mouth against my ear, he harshly whispers, "You'd better behave, Alexis."

Ripping my arm from his grasp, I take a step away from the vile man, look him straight in the eyes, and say, "I'm not afraid of you anymore."

And I really wish that I wasn't.