Page 1 of Ask Me To Stay

1

Present Day

I can’t believe I’m doing this.

After ten years, I’ll be back in the very place that I happily ran away from. I thought when I left, that would be it. Yet, here I am—no longer in New York and no longer with Graham.

No. Don’t even start with that.

The point of coming back to Washington was so I don’t have to think about him ever again, but he still lingers around the edges of my mind.

I shake my head, blinking rapidly.

Just look at the trees. Think about the rivers. All the things you missed about home, fixate on that.

I have no idea if coming back home is a mistake. Contrary to some beliefs, time doesn’t always heal everything.

The moment I stuck all of my belongings in my trunk, and I mean all of my belongings, I figured I’d see what would happen. No plan. Half a tank of gas ready to go. Half of a woman ready to go with it.

But now I’m here—and it seems like the dumbest decision I have ever made.

But what else am I supposed to do? Drive all the way back to Brooklyn? To the house I no longer own?

I’m ten minutes away from the last known address my parents had.

My hands grip the steering wheel a little too forcefully and my car veers to the right. I quickly adjust myself and take a deep breath in.

It’s not like I’ve been talking to some stranger online claiming to be Dylan O’Brien and I was worried I’d be meeting up with a serial killer or something—it’s just my dad. Him and his horrible wife. But still, my dad.

The man who made me laugh harder than anyone. The man who let me cry on his shoulder anytime I wanted. The man who was my best friend first, parent second.

And despite all of these facts, I moved to New York and I never looked back. Until now.

I finally pull into my parents’ driveway and my heart thumps louder than a bass drum.

They’ve added rocks surrounding the pavement that leads up to the front door, as well as a small fountain that’s spewing greenish-grey water. The muted blue color of the house is just a little duller than it once was. The house looks small from the front, but it’s much larger once you step inside.

Twenty-five hundred square feet to be exact. Far too much space for only two people.

Eloise always wanted more. The bigger house. The nice cars. Three tropical vacations a year.

Some people might see that as a normal goal to have in life. But not the way Eloise does it. She does it for the way it makes her look, not the satisfaction it brings her.

I place my car in park and stare at the garage door for five whole minutes.

Why in the world did I think I could just show up here?

Eloise is not exactly an understanding or forgiving person. It’s not like the thought of how she treated me has managed to escape my attention either.

I’m holding out hope for my dad on this front. For him to be Switzerland.

If time repeats itself, he won’t be on my side and that is the worst outcome that could happen from this crazy experiment. Eloise is likely to scream at me and tell me to leave. My dad should be happy to see me…I think.

I don’t know if he’ll stand up for me if—no when—she tells me to leave. When I moved, it wasn’t him that drew a line in the sand, but he didn't stop her from drawing it herself.

My chest is heavy, a weight that I haven’t been able to shake in a long time. I rub my clammy hands against my jeans, but it doesn’t help much. Pushing my door open, I’m hit with all of my favorite scents. Wet trees and the distinct earthy smell of rain.

That’s Washington for you.