My hair was a ratted nest from the hot tub, tied up high on my head, screaming for a bird or two to find a new home. I’d stripped out of my new leggings and sweater at some point in the night and standing in just my lacy boy shorts, it was easy to see I’d taken more of a beating than I realized in what was quite possibly the most embarrassing moment of my life.
There were spots of dried blood dotted on the shin of the leg opposite my injury, probably from when Anderson carried me inside, and bruises had already formed on my thighs, hips, and forearms from the fall. I wiped at the dark circles under my eyes with a pathetic laugh, head throbbing as I scratched behind Rev’s ear on my way into the bathroom.
I felt marginally better after I’d showered, applied a full face of makeup, and popped two ibuprofen. I settled in on the back porch with a cup of coffee and a cinnamon roll, eyes on the broken board that had led to my demise the night before. I’d have to fix it like I’d promised Abdiel, but I had no idea how, so I just stared at it instead.
And then I thought of Anderson.
He must have lived close by, being that he made it to my cabin and up my back porch stairs in about twenty seconds flat, and I wondered why Momma Von hadn’t showed me where he lived yesterday or talked about him at all. Still, I remembered Sarah mentioning him, and that only piqued my curiosity more. I wondered if she was his girlfriend, and then I kicked myself for wondering about his relationship status at all. I came to this cabin to be alone, to spend time with myself, to get space and find clarity.
Yet when I replayed last night, the hardness of his blue eyes on my body, the grip of his hands on my ankle, the baritone of his voice when he’d told me his name, a foreign tingle shot between my thighs and I squeezed them together, shifting on the couch. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d felt need, want. I hadn’t felt it with Keith in years, and the one man I’d slept with since him was a drunken one-night stand orchestrated by Adrian to make me feel better.
It hadn’t.
But when there was only a thin towel between my wet body and Anderson’s hard chest, when his strong arms cradled me like I was the only thing in the world he cared to protect, all those sexual molecules in my body that had been asleep for years woke in a frenzy.
Shaking him from my mind, I reached for my phone and dialed Adrian. It was Sunday, which used to mean he’d be three mimosas deep by now. But ever since he and Oscar had adopted Naomi, Sundays had changed to early-morning diaper changes and bottle feedings.
“Well, good morning, sunshine,” Adrian sang into the phone after four rings. He whispered something to Oscar as Naomi cooed in the background, and then a door shut, silencing the noise. “How’s my little cabin girl this morning?”
“Hungover,” I groaned. “And bleeding.”
“Bleeding?” The panic rose in his voice instantly. “What happened? Are you okay? Do I need to come get you?”
I laughed, tucking my legs under me just as Rev trotted out onto the porch. He stretched his front legs out and arched his back, claws scratching the wood before he hopped up onto the couch. “Relax, I’m fine. I thought there was a snake or a bug or something in the hot tub and I wigged out, dropped my wine glass, stepped on the broken glass and fell through a broken board on the porch. I cut my foot, but nothing seriously injured. Well,” I added, running my nails down Rev’s back. “Unless you count my pride, which is practically in a body cast after just one weekend here.”
Adrian let out a long breath of relief and then chuckled. “Only you. So you’re okay?”
“Yeah, just nursing a hangover and trying to laugh at myself.”
“At least no one was around to see your moment of shining brilliance,” he said, but when I didn’t respond or laugh, he paused. “Wait. You were alone, right?”
“Well, at first. But then I screamed bloody murder at the strand of moss attacking me in the hot tub and one of the neighbors ran over.”
“Oh my God,” he snickered.
“It was a guy, too.”
“Of course.”
“Did I mention I was naked?”
“OH MY GOD!”
We both laughed hysterically, Rev jumping at the noise and scampering off down the stairs. I wiped at a tear, not even caring that every new laugh made my head throb. “Ugh, I miss you.”
“Miss you, too, sunshine,” he said, his voice a soothing connection to home. “You sure you’re doing okay out there?”
I paused, gripping the handle on my coffee cup a little tighter as I looked out over the river. The sun was slowly creeping its way up the mountains, warming the morning air and bringing in a promising summer day. And even though I had nothing figured out, even though I was alone, I answered his question with what I thought was the truth.
“I am.”
“Good. Well, let me know when you want company. You’re only an hour away and you know I’d pay just about anything for ten minutes of peace and quiet right now,” he said. As if on cue, Naomi’s cries broke through the speaker on my phone. “And on that note, I have to run. Love you, baby girl.”
“Love you, too. Tell Oscar I said hi and give my niece kisses. And please call me if you and the team need anything. Seriously.”
“I will, I promise. Try not to think about us right now. I’ve got everything here covered, okay?”
“Okay,” I conceded, and I knew I could trust him, even if guilt swirled low in my stomach at the fact that I wasn’t there to help.
I ended the call, and once again I was surrounded by quiet. The river rushed softly, and I watched a small blue warbler jump from branch to branch as I finished my coffee, Adrian’s question still ringing in my head.
Am I okay out here?
I wanted to be, I felt like eventually I would be. It had only been a few days, but I already felt the pressure on my chest receding.
Anxiety hadn’t really been a part of my life until I decided to leave Keith. Of course, it was nothing compared to how I ‘d felt in the last few weeks I’d stayed. I think I knew in my heart that I was ready to go, that I couldn’t stay any longer.
Every day that I’d gone home to him with that knowledge in my soul, I felt sick.
I’d stopped eating, stopped sleeping, until the very moment I spoke the words that marked the end. I’d cried, he’d cried, and though my heart broke more every minute as I packed a bag for Adrian’s, it simultaneously sang as I drove away. It was as if it had been waiting for that moment, as if it were whispering, “Thank you for listening” after years of screaming so hard, it had lost its voice.
I ate two full plates of dinner that first night at Adrian’s—dessert, too. And then I slept eleven hours straight.