Chapter 33

Since returning from Grimholt, Ethan found himself haunted by Lydia's memory. Every damn thing triggered thoughts of her. Sometimes these memories made him smile, but mostly they carved a deeper hollow in his chest. He had decided isolation was his only defense against the constant barrage of reminders. It had been mere hours since his return not even days and already he was unraveling. His room and its state appeared to be a reflection of the mental state he was in: sheets tangled from desperate bids for sleep, the remaining smells of alcohol from the half-empty bottle of whiskey on the floor and a hole in the wall where he had punched it when he got tired of muffling the pain.