Chapter Two #2
Ren turns in his seat, his demeanor now serious. “Hey, sometimes talking to a stranger is therapeutic.” His voice coaxes, persuades. “By morning, I’ll be a distant memory.”
Why does a flash of disappointment wash through me at the thought?
“Something tells me you need to unload some of that burden you’re carrying around on your shoulders.”
“Is it that obvious?” I remove my unneeded seat belt.
“It is to me.”
I shake my head. “You don’t want to hear my story, and I don’t want to tell it.”
“I’m a good listener, and I have a pretty comfortable shoulder. So I’m told.”
“Are you serious?” Do I dare talk about it? The worst days of my life? Do I mention how I was the cause of those terrible days? Or how much my decisions affected other people? Or how I was Bree the Betrayer?
“Yes. Unload. I think you need it.” His eyes are intense even in the dark car.
Unload. Man, that sounds good. I haven’t spoken to anyone about what happened two months ago.
Or the havoc I caused. Not one soul has shared in my anguish or my disgust. Frankly, I am in need of a good vent.
It might be the late hour, it might be that my defenses are down, but I realize I want to tell him.
I want someone to listen to me, to hear my hurt.
No judgment involved. I need an innocent bystander, someone who won’t take sides.
Someone who will simply sympathize with me and tell me how awful it was that it happened to me.
Someone who won’t hate me for my insane actions.
“Hey, I’m an ax murderer. I’ll whack the guy that hurt you.”
I don’t laugh. Not possible. “He didn’t mean to hurt me,” I whisper. “It just happened that way.”
He sobers. “Tell me. Let it out.”
I give in to the need to unburden myself. “Two months ago, I was engaged to be married. I was really happy too. But it ended.”
“Why did it end?”
He doesn’t joke, or mock me, and I’m glad of that. It tells me he knows when to joke and when to be serious. That’s important.
“I think I need to start from the beginning.”
“Okay.” He settles into his seat, making himself comfortable.
I tell him everything. I tell him about Quinn and how we’ve been best friends since middle school. I tell him how sweet, kind, and delicate she is, the total opposite of me. I explain how she is the Melanie to my Scarlett.
“I love Scarlett,” he says. “She’s a tenacious gal. I love someone who never gives up.”
That’s my favorite thing he’s said all night.
I tell him about Sawyer Denali and how we met. I tell him about Sawyer and Quinn’s perfect love story and how much I always envied what they had. With tears in my eyes, I tell him about Quinn’s tragic death and how hard it was to go on without her.
I can’t hide my love for Josie and Jordyn as I tell him about caring for them in Quinn’s absence. I admit to falling in love with Sawyer, wanting what he and Quinn had.
“It took him a while, but he felt the connection between us too. We didn’t fall in love.
It was more like a very slow crawl toward love.
But we eventually got there. I mean, I knew he really wanted Quinn.
I was simply a person to assuage his loneliness.
I knew it, yet I convinced myself he would learn to love me just as much as he had loved Quinn.
In the end, he did ask me to marry him. I know he did it because I pushed him into it. Still, I said yes.”
I express how happy I was, how I really thought my life was perfect. “Then it all came crashing down. No warning whatsoever. It happened so suddenly, I think we were all shell-shocked.”
“I don’t understand. What happened?” Ren asks, deeply invested in my story.
“Quinn returned home.”
“Wait, she wasn’t dead?” he asks with surprise.
“No, and I was so happy to see her. I could hardly believe it. But then one glance at Sawyer and I knew it was over between us. The look on his face said it all. His wife had returned to him, the one he adored, the one he truly loved.”
“Wow. That’s really tough. I’m so sorry.”
I look into his eyes in an attempt to perceive what he’s thinking. His eyebrows are furrowed, his expression subdued. He feels for me. I can see it in every aspect of his demeanor. He strikes me as a man who feels emotions acutely.
He continues. “To have a loved one come back when you thought they were gone forever. I can’t imagine.” He runs one hand through his hair and breathes out heavily.
I tell him what Quinn had been through and how she managed her miraculous return. He hangs on my every word.
“That’s incredible,” he says, disbelief evident in the tone of his voice.
“The story doesn’t end there.” I keep going, holding nothing back. He’s getting the “warts and all” version of my story. I’ll probably never see him again anyway. I tell him how I behaved after Quinn’s return, the awful things I did and said. I leave nothing out. Tonight, I’m Bree the Bold.
“I was horrible to my best friend. My behavior was inexcusable. I knew it was wrong, yet I couldn’t stop myself.
I saw all my dreams disappear in one blinding moment.
I turned into a raving lunatic for about twenty-four hours, fighting for something that was never really mine to begin with.
I don’t know what came over me. But I don’t want to be that person ever again. ”
Ren appears to be deep in thought. “You know, I don’t think you should be so hard on yourself.
You were in an impossible situation. You were hurting, losing everything.
I’m sure everyone’s emotions were out of control.
No one can predict how they would behave in such hard circumstances.
I think you need to forgive yourself, let it go. ”
I smile sadly. It’s too late for Ren to be an innocent bystander. Already, he’s totally on my side. I love him for it.
“Quinn and I haven’t spoken since it happened. I miss her so much.”
“Interesting,” Ren remarks slowly.
“What’s interesting?” Our eyes meet again.
“You miss Quinn, but you haven’t mentioned missing Sawyer.”
“Yeah, I guess that says it all right there. Don’t get me wrong, I was in love with him. But what I really loved was Sawyer and Quinn. I loved their love story. I was wrong to try and make it mine. I realize that now. But it doesn’t make it any easier.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
“I often wonder if Sawyer and I would’ve made it. I have my doubts. We were both grasping for something to make us happy. In the end, I think we both would’ve been disappointed. But we would’ve faked it, just to keep up appearances. Not a good foundation for a marriage.”
“No.” Ren maintains eye contact with me.
“At any rate, I’m still recovering, regaining my balance, and learning to live again. Trying to change and be a better person. More of a Melanie. It’s a journey, and I’m still on the path.”
“I don’t think you should try to be someone you’re not. I like who you are. I enjoyed sparring with you tonight. But knowing you made mistakes is the first and hardest step. You’re trying to right your wrongs. That takes bravery. You’re doing better than you think.”
A knock on my window startles us both.
He glances at his watch and raises his eyebrows. “You won the gold. It’s been almost exactly an hour. Your carriage awaits.”
I suppress a smile. This man makes me want to laugh at the oddest times. Meanwhile, he speaks as though we’re having private time in a bedroom. It gives me pause.
I still have more to say, more I want to unburden. But my time is up. Ren was right. Having someone listen to me was therapeutic, and he was a good listener. It felt so good to have someone confirm what a difficult situation I had been in. Just what I needed.
It doesn’t make my behavior okay, but it feels so good to have another human being agree that it was a tough spot to be in.
I climb out of my car and come face-to-face with a heavily tattooed, bearded, and pierced man.
Now I realize those things don’t make him a bad person.
For all I know, he’s a dedicated family man with six kids at home.
But I still don’t want to get into that tow truck with him.
Not at all. He’s my ride home, though. Good thing my pepper spray is tucked into my purse.
I might need it. I’m always prepared to defend myself if need be. I only have myself to rely on.
“Can you take my car to Boyd’s Automotive?” I ask firmly.
“Sure, lady, no problem. Where do you live?”
I’m loath to tell him where I live. When Ren speaks up, I don’t need to.
“I’ll be escorting the lady home. We only need you to take care of the car.”
I don’t act surprised or question Ren. I’d rather he take me home. I guess I did need to be rescued this evening. In more ways than one.
I’m okay with that. Just this once. My middle name should’ve been Independence. I’m not letting go of it.
The tow truck driver takes a seat in my car, trying the ignition a few times. You know, because a man can get a car to start, but a woman can’t. Makes me burn inside.
“Think it’s just the battery,” he says. “Maybe, maybe not. Not sure. But no place is open at this time of night to get you a new one. Could give you a jump. But you might just get stranded again. I’ll take it in to Boyd’s.”
Isn’t that what I just asked him to do? Or does he think it was his idea? “Thank you,” I mumble, not really meaning it.
I sign paperwork, then the tow truck driver positions his truck in front of my car. “Thanks, Ren,” I whisper.
“Are you kidding? I wouldn’t be able to sleep tonight if I let you drive off with him. He doesn’t exactly inspire safe, does he?”
“The only inspiration I’m getting is ‘lock my doors.’” He’s a scary-looking character.
“With more than one bolt. Maybe a dresser or two in front of them.”
My once heavy heart feels lighter around Ren. It’s such a good feeling.
As we watch the driver hook my car up to his tow truck, Ren mumbles, “Look at that. We fogged up the windows, and we weren’t even doing anything fun.”
I shake my head. I’ve never met anyone like Ren, someone who can be funny and intense at the same time. He’s an odd mixture of both. I wonder which part is the real Ren.
Turns out, going to Exodus this evening was a fantastic decision.