12. Angelica
12
ANGELICA
T he hum of electrical machinery from the garage wakes me. I roll over to the crackle of logs on the fire. A sliver of light shines through the gap in the curtain, telling me it’s morning. Sawyer must have put more wood on first thing.
My shoulders sag at the memory of Sawyer and last night. The word virgin makes me recoil, knowing I’m probably going to be one forever. I drag myself out of bed and slump to the kitchen, my heart heavy and weighing me down. I need to talk to him and clear the air. If only I could understand why he changed his mind so quick. He went from ravishing me like a dog in heat to avoiding me as if I have gonorrhoea.
I tried so hard not to cry last night, but all I did was prove him right by acting like a little girl. After the last few days, I thought he was finally seeing me for the woman I am. Then I had to ruin it all by telling him I’m still a virgin.
My chipped nails tap against the counter while I wait for the kettle to boil. My nipples chafe against my flannel pyjamas, still swollen from last night. The ghost of his lips lingers on my mouth, making my centre tingle.
His kiss was so much better than I’d ever imagined a kiss could be. My fingers trace my lips, then my neck and collarbone, still itchy from his beard.
In a daze reliving the events of last night, I make two coffees, then take them through the utility room towards the door to the garage, past the boiler stripped down and in pieces. It’s a good thing Sawyer’s a registered plumber and electrician. Between him and my dad’s construction background, they make a good team building houses. My mouth parts as I open the garage door to Sawyer planing wood.
He lifts his head, turning the machine off, and pushes the safety glasses up, pulling his hair back from his forehead. “I’m sorry if I woke you.”
I shrug a shoulder and hand him a mug of coffee. “I had to get up sometime.”
He nods as he takes the coffee. “Thanks.” He brings it to his lips, then places it onto a stack of wood.
“Can we talk about last night?” I hold the key necklace between my finger and thumb, my heart pounding against my ribs, but I try to remain calm and like an adult.
“No need. It won’t happen again.” He pulls the glasses down his face and goes back to planing. The noise has never bothered me before, growing up with my dad always tinkering in his workshop, but now the noise cuts through as if piercing my eardrums and shattering my skull.
My dressing table stands in the corner of the garage. We were going to fix it up today, but I’m not sure I can stand the awkward tension. I rub the throb in my temple and turn around before he sees the emotion warring on my features. Slumping back to the kitchen, I pour the coffee down the sink, feeling nauseous. But I refuse to cry. Instead, I think to myself. What would Taylor do?
She’d pull up her big girl pants and ignore him, probably.
I reach for my phone and put on my Swiftie playlist that always cheers me up while I make a start on breakfast.
Sawyer enters the kitchen, zipping up his sheepskin coat. “I’m heading into town. Clearwater Plumbing has the part I need for the boiler. Do you need anything?”
“No, thank you. Do you want some breakfast before you go?”
“I’ll grab something from town.” He doesn’t look me in the eye and walks out as quickly as he came.
Suddenly I’m no longer hungry. I place the frying pan back in the cupboard and head upstairs to change. The air is colder the farther up I climb. Without Sawyer’s warmth, everything feels icy like a frozen lake with no sign of life.
I turn my Swiftie playlist up and know what I have to do.
Staring into the mirror, I smooth my palms over the ruched fabric at my waist. Mum’s black dress looks rather flattering on me and I’ve aged by about five years. Any man who sees me in this will see that I’m a woman. Sadly, I don’t have any shoes that go with the little black dress, so my Dr. Martens will have to do.
I pull the curtain back and look down the lane, trying to gauge how deep the snow is. I could wear my wellies. And the thick wooly tights I’m wearing under Mum’s dress should keep me warm.
I can’t stay in this cabin another minute with Sawyer. Today hasn’t been too bad as he’s spent most of it in town and then in the utility room putting the boiler back together, refusing to look at me.
All this time, I’ve saved myself for him and now he won’t take it.
If he wants a more experienced woman, then that’s what I’ll be. I grab my bag and lift the strap over my head so it sits across my body, hanging at my waist, then make my way to the bottom of the stairs and lift my fleece coat from the bannister.
Holding on to the door handle, I contemplate leaving a note, but stuff it. He probably won’t even know I’m gone. He hasn’t cared to check in on me all day and refused to talk to me this morning.
I zip my coat up and trudge through the snow. The Black Crow’s only a thirty-minute walk, and I know the band will be playing tonight. My friend Teirney said they’ll be at the bar. The main roads have been gritted, so the usual crowd should be there. Toby was always flirting with me when we were in school. If I can’t get laid by one of the band members, then I’m sure there’s a biker who would help me out.