Lost hope

Before we get into the crazy story called my life. let me introduce myself. My name is Faith smith, I'm 25 years old. I would describe myself as the girl next door look. blonde hair cat green eyes. I'm 5'5 "with a small frame. I have a couple of tattoos and piercings. I live in the middle of New York, the city that never sleeps. Today is my 25th birthday. This morning is no different from the rest. looking up at the ceiling stretching my arms, feeling all my joints crack. I look to my left and see that Trent is nowhere to be found. We have been together since high school . Lately, he hasn't been home with the long nights and early morning at the office. He works at Wallstreet as a stock observer. I have been having the gut feeling there's more to the hours than he is letting on. Shaking my head from the thought, I uncover from my duvet, and pad over the the bathroom and do my morning routine. Once dry my long locks, I pulled it up to a messy bun. Walking over to my nightstand, I grab my wallet phone and keys. making sure all the lights are off, I head out the front door and hop in my car. Thankfully, the nearest Starbucks is only a few minute's drive. Walking in the bell above my head chimes. My best friend Macie is waving smiling wide once she looks up and sees who walked in. "The usual, she asks?" I just nod my head. Macie, of all people, knows I need my morning caffeine before I can function. Macie looks up from my iced carmel coffee and asks "how Trent and I are?" I met her eyes and shook my head in response. "Girl! you need to wake up and see what is going on! Macie, I know! i grumble. you can't keep beating yourself up and wondering what and where he is when you know the answer" . She huffs out exasperated. "I saw a flyer online to win an old farmhouse in a little town in the south. It needs a little love, but it will be a good fresh start. Macie, I appreciate the idea, but what about my shop? I can't just pack up and leave? what happens if I'm wrong, and he truly is working long hours? "Macie gave me a deadpan look. "Then all about burst out, well I already applied for you! the last day for the drawing was today, so there ya go! MACIE I screeched, how could you?! what about my shop?! she just waves me away like she has the whole idea already thought threw. Faith, I will look after your candle shop. At least it will keep your income when you move till you can get your feet settled on the ground. look hun I'm glad you thought of me, and wanna help, but I can't just leave till I know for sure. "She hands me my coffee with her other hand griping mine. "Faith, we both know the truth. Just at least take it into consideration. Fine Macie, what's the chances of me winning a free house anyway?" Macie smiles and reaches across the counter and gives me a hug. "Thank you for being my common sense." She laughs and sends me on my way. I can't help but think of her words as I drive to my shop. she's right. We both know the truth but can't give up hopes on winning a free house. Regardless of whether the work it needs or not. Opening my shop door, I sigh and turn to the sign over. The day goes by rather quickly, her words replaying in my head. After wrapping up the final product for my last customer and bid my Farwell, I shut the door and locked it. As I'm cleaning up and shutting the lights down my phone goes off. I look down at the caller ID with an unknown number. My gut is screaming to answer it. "Hello? HI! this is Mary. Is this Faith smith? umm yea, this is she? Hi, well, I'm calling to let you know that you won the farmhouse down here in Louisiana! congratulations! I stumble backward and sit in the stool. sorry ma'am, what did you say? she chuckles darling you heard me right! when can we expect you? umm. I'm not sure. I need to think about it? sure thing, sugar! we just need a heads up because, umm, she starts stumbling over her words to not give so much away at once, so she thinks of the easiest lie. To be able to give you a proper welcome and all. Faith nods, although seemingly to forget she can't see her. So she just replays with a shocked ok, completely missing the stumble of Mary words. Great Mary gives her the address and explains where the spare key will be". As i shut the down my shop and lock up. I walk to my car throw myself in my seat. As I hang my head on the steering wheel just trying to process the morning. My drive home was almost robotic. I open the front door and yell for Trent. Of course, he doesn't respond. Nor is he here, I thought. padding down the hallway to the bedroom. Once i reach my room. I put my head against the door my hand resting on the knob. Ugh I can't keep doing this to myself. I can't sacferice my happiness for his own anymore. This ends tonight. I'm curious to see what time late really means for Trent. I grab my duffel from the bottom of the closet, and grabbing all my wardrobe I can fit. Looking around the room I notice the framed pitchure on my nightstand. It's the pitchure of the two of us in our happiest moment. We were standing in the middle of the ocean of jamaica. Both sunbruned, our hair crazy from the salt water with chessy smiles, We just got done swimming with dolphins. Pushing the thought aside, I focus on the now. Grabbing all my major clothing I would need. My next task is the bathroom, and packing all my toiletries. Deciding to get into inviting shower, whispering its promise of temporary relief before I head out. Letting the hot water cascade down my body fulfilling its beautiful promise. Thinking and hoping the new journey will be worth it. Also wondering if it is a scam or to be good to be true? as I step out, i brush my teeth, and dry my locks. I take one last look at my old self, and get dressed. After all the let downs, and what if this is the moment I decide enough. With one more look around, I make sure I got everything. heading to the couch with the duffel bag next to me. I sit and wait. Waiting for Trent to arrive. Some point i must have fallen asleep, because the next time my eyes opened, I'm locked onto a smell before i saw him. Trent all but fell through the door. Smelling of scotch and cheap perfume. His colar was flared out with red lipstick smeared all over his face. His hair was disheveled, shirt half opened, belt missing. I reached up and turned the lamp on next to me and noticed the clock read 3am. I watched as he stumbled, trying to get his foot out of his shoes. Gripping the wall mumbling how he should have stopped at the last bar. Grabbing my duffel i walked up towards the door. As Trent was fussing with his shoes, he looked up. Our eyes locked his to my green and mine to his blood shot ones.