23. 23
23
B y the time they made it back to the cabin, Malice wondered if the trip to town had been a good idea. Nothing had happened, or at least nothing that he could pinpoint as being a problem. But it felt like Bonnie was pulling away, growing more distant.
It wasn’t like they were in a committed, long-term relationship where they knew nearly everything about each other, but he still didn’t like it. It felt wrong in a way he couldn’t explain.
Together they carried in the bags from the grocery store, and put his purchases away, then she excused herself, saying she was going to take a shower if he didn’t mind.
He didn’t, and said so. She left, leaving him feeling like something was wrong between them, and wondering if it was something he’d done or said. After as close as they’d gotten the last couple of days, he’d thought he would be sharing the bed with her tonight, but with the distance that seemed to have developed between them this evening, he decided it would be better if he didn’t assume she’d welcome him. Instead, he changed into the sweats and t-shirt he’d taken to wearing around the place while she was here. Come bedtime he’d strip down to his shorts, but that was a bit too little for walking around, especially with someone else in the house.
Not sure what else to do, he wandered around for a few minutes, picking up around the place for a bit before he settled onto the sofa with his book and tried to distract himself while he waited. He didn’t know what was going on, but would it hurt to ask?
As much as he tried to lose himself in the story on the pages, he was acutely aware of when the shower shut off. The minutes that ticked by as he waited for the door to open and Bonnie to emerge. He read the same paragraph at least six times, never making much sense of it, until he gave up and closed the book. There was no point in pretending he was reading, if his focus was that bad.
Still not sure what to do, he picked up his phone and wished, probably for the first time ever, that he had social media. Something to mindlessly scroll through sounded like exactly what he needed right now. Instead, he pulled up a national news site and scrolled through headlines, reading them without much interest or desire to read the articles.
When the door opened, Malice tried not to look up immediately. He didn’t want to feel like he’d been impatiently waiting for her. Like she was being watched or pounced on, not in any way. That would make him no better than the fuckwad she was trying to get away from.
After going into the bedroom for a couple of minutes that felt like an eon, she came back out, a sketchbook and pencils in her hands. He didn’t look up as she settled onto the other end of the couch and got comfortable.
“Is it something I’ve done or said?” He kept his voice soft as he asked, turning to look at her as he set his phone face down on the arm on his end of the couch.
“What do you mean?” She looked up at him, her lashes wet and spikey.
He wasn’t sure if it was because of the shower, or she’d been crying. He hated the idea that maybe it had been both. Maybe she’d taken a shower to get away from him and have a good cry.
“Something’s changed. You’re different. It feels like you’re distancing yourself from me. Was it something I did or said?”
She stared at him with wide eyes for what felt like forever, but was really only a couple of seconds. Then she looked away and shook her head. “No. You haven’t done anything.”
“Then can you tell me what is wrong? I hate seeing you like this. Is there anything I can do?”
“I don’t know that there’s anything wrong per se. I’m just trying to brace myself to go back to work tomorrow.”
“If it’s that bad, then don’t go. Call in again. You’ve told your boss what’s going on. If you’re this upset about it, then stay out another day.”
Her head started shaking before he’d finished.
“I can’t. I need my job. I need the money to make my rent.” She took a deep breath and seemed to freeze, holding it for several seconds before letting it out slowly. “I need to get back to my life. If I don’t, it’s letting him control me and I can’t do that.” She looked back at him, meeting his gaze with wide eyes.
Malice didn’t know if the fear in her eyes was that he wouldn’t understand, or that she was afraid of the asshole who’d been following her. Without knowing the cause, he was helpless to make it better.
“Will you at least let me hold you?” He held one arm out toward her, inviting her to move closer. “If I can’t talk you into staying, I’ll do what I can to make you feel better.” He shifted a little as she moved to sit beside him, her side touching his. He wrapped his arm around her and held her close. Slowly, her body seemed to relax against his.
“The keys to the truck are on the kitchen counter where we left them when we came in tonight. Take that to work tomorrow. I’m hoping that if that fuckwad is around, he won’t recognize it and you’ll have no trouble from him tomorrow.”
“What about the next day? What if he’s got someone or something watching the hotel for when I arrive?”
“We’ll deal with one day at a time. If we decide he’s doing that, then we’ll deal with it then. Let’s not borrow trouble.”
“I feel like I could have prevented this, or a least some of it if I’d thought what if before.”
Malice liked the feeling of her there beside him, all warm and soft. He wanted to tug her close and kiss away all her worries, but now wasn’t the time. She needed reassurance more right now.
“There’s no point in thinking like that. Even if it were true, and it’s not. You can’t go back and change it. What you can change is what you do going forward.” He took a deep breath as he tried to put what he wanted to say next into words. “I don’t want to say that the past doesn’t matter. It does, in that it forms us. Our past experiences, our past mistakes, our past accomplishments, our past training, all of it matters. It melds together and forms how we behave and how we react in any given situation.”
“What do you mean?” Bonnie looked up at him, a frown creasing her brow.
“You said you grew up on a ranch, right?”
“Yeah.” She sounded confused.
“So you’ve ridden horses, probably a lot, right?”
“Yeah,” she drew out the word, so it had several syllables.
“Have you ever been bucked off?”
“Of course. Anyone who’s ridden much has been thrown, for one reason or another.”
“So now you watch more carefully for the little signs that the horse might be getting ready to throw you, right? Maybe a sidestep, maybe a bunching of muscles that might tip you off?”
“Of course.”
“That’s just one example of how one experience changed your reactions. Now build that over not one experience, but thousands. Day in and day out, we see things, we witness things or experience others that affect how we react to the world we live in.”
She tilted her head to one side for several seconds, then blinked. “Okay. I never thought about it like that, but I can see what you mean. You almost have an accident at a particular intersection, you’re more careful in that intersection. That kind of thing.”
“Exactly. Now, applied to your situation, you can say I should have seen, I should have known. But if you had no point of reference, no experience in assholes like him, how could you have known? Besides, there is no point in beating yourself up with should haves. You can look back and learn from the experience, but that’s the only reason I see to even think about it.”
“I don’t know if I can stop wondering, stop thinking about what if.”
“I’m not saying don’t think about it. What I’m saying is don’t beat yourself up about it. You’re not going to be able to stop thinking about it, but you can stop blaming yourself. Instead, turn it from why didn’t I see this coming to how could I have seen this coming. Use your brain to help you, instead of make you feel even worse.”
“Do you think that will really work?”
“It has for me. It takes practice. When you catch yourself in the why didn’t I mode you have to think about it and make an effort to change your perspective. And it will take time. It takes practice to change the habit of blaming yourself.”
She took a deep breath and held it for several seconds. When she exhaled, some of the tension in her body seemed to go with it. She relaxed against him, and he thought she might be making progress.