Chapter Seventeen
Mara-Present
High-Stephen Sanchez
He made his point perfectly clear. And although I’m not looking for anything serious with Jason, I don’t like being treated like trash and then used for my body. I’ve already done that. I don’t need to repeat that toxic dynamic again.
I’m trying to right the wrongs of my past. I’m trying to make amends with him. I understand holding a grudge all this time, but I did apologize and I’ve been trying to be cordial. The least he can do is treat me with a little more respect.
Isolated in a cabin in the woods, it’s not like I can publicly apologize or make any grand gestures.
But despite my actions in the past, two wrongs don’t make a right. Maybe I deserved the degradation at first. Actually, I definitely deserved it. But I’m not the one who dragged him naked into a room full of people.
Who am I kidding? I’m just as bad. Bryce humiliated Jason.
But I toyed with his emotions and gave false hope to a kid who suffered his whole life at the hands of his peers.
I was a bully, no different than Bryce. And I’ve paid for it ever since between the shit treatment I got from Bryce and the crappy relationship I had with my ex—if it can even be called a relationship.
Tanner, my ex, was a real piece of shit. I didn’t want a purely physical relationship so I told him I wanted to wait a bit to have sex. He pressured me into intimacy of other forms until I finally gave in. And then I was never good enough.
When my body started changing because I wasn’t working out as much, he made comments about it.
He complained I wasn’t as active in the bedroom as he was, insinuating that he did all the work while I just layed there.
And if I gave him a blowjob every day, it still wouldn’t be enough and he’d tell me I didn’t make enough of an effort.
His comments live rent free in my head at all times.
“Do you really need dessert?”
“Why is it always me who has to do the work? Sometimes I’d like to lay there and get fucked instead.”
“Your blowjobs could use some work, babe.”
“Maybe if you did some of the work, I’d be more turned on by you.”
I really shouldn’t have been surprised when I found out he was cheating on me. I don’t think he ever called me his girlfriend until I was breaking up with him. That was also the first time he told me he loved me.
Apparently, my services in the bedroom and my body weren’t so bad that he wanted to live without them.
Good thing he had his piece on the side to ease the pain of my absence.
Fuck, he is the last person I want to be thinking about right now.
Another day of repetition. Make coffee. Make breakfast. Feed the animals. The only addition I’m making to my daily routine is to ignore Jason. The silent treatment is petty in my opinion, not my style. But in this case, it seems like the right course of action.
Jason saunters in from the garage like every morning while I have sausage patties and eggs going on the stove. He pours himself a cup of coffee as usual but deviates from his normal routine of waiting for breakfast by setting the table for all three of us.
Odd.
He doesn’t normally help me with breakfast. Is he trying to be nice? Jason doesn’t do nice.
Dylan joins us just as I scoop the last of the scrambled eggs from the skillet onto his plate. We eat in silence for the first few minutes before Dylan—in true Dylan fashion—breaks the silence but not the tension.
“Happy New Year, love birds.”
Jason stops mid chew and I drop my fork to the plate. Two sets of eyes pin Dylan to the chair. Clearly, he was trying to make a joke, but he quickly realizes his mistake when the awkwardness draws even more taut.
“Too soon to make jokes?” He tilts his head toward a shrugged shoulder like a kid trying to get out of trouble. Paired with the puppy dog eyes he’s mastered, I’d guess he got out of a lot of trouble with that look when he was a kid.
“Yes,” I answer curtly.
I take my plate and fork to the sink before taking my coffee and bounding up the stairs to get dressed for morning chores.
It’s been a while since I looked at myself in the mirror, I try to avoid looking at how much my body has changed since I was eighteen.
I know we live in the world of body positivity and shaming those who shame others for their body.
But I still find it hard to love the way I look when I used to look so much better.
This morning, I take a second to look at myself in the mirror before pulling my snow pants on.
I see more muscle definition than I had before I came here.
All these farm chores and plowing snow has helped me regain some of my muscle mass that I used to have.
And my love handles that I got freshman year have all but disappeared.
Most women would kill for the body I had two months ago, even if it wasn’t perfect.
Yet my ungrateful self couldn’t be happy with the image in the mirror because it wasn’t love handles I was seeing, it was weakness.
It wasn’t cellulite I saw, it was depression.
Even though those traits are less visible than two months ago, I still see a depressed waste of space, unworthy of positive attention.
The animals are great company today.
A few weeks ago, Jason taught me how to clean and shoe Bessie which has to be done more frequently in the snow.
He or Dylan take her for rides as much as they can so she can stretch her legs.
That’s what I’m doing when Jason approaches.
He looks too damn sexy resting one hand on the beam over his head, leaning into the stretch so all his muscles are flexed.
Why does he have to look so good?
He’s temptation incarnate.
I continue to ignore him as I finish the last shoe on Bessie and start to clean up the remnants.
I walk past him narrowly avoiding contact by ducking under his arm.
It’s when I’m putting the tools away on the shelf that a calloused hand scales my body from my lower back to my abdomen.
Still irritated, and not caring if I seem petty, I shake his touch away before storming back toward the barn door to go inside.
That same muscular hand grabs my arm and spins me back so I’m face to face with Jason, inches apart. His body heat envelopes me making me feel trapped even though it’s only his hand holding me hostage.
Why does his presence make me forget how to walk, how to breathe?
“Jason, let me go,” I demand. I’m gearing up to rip my arm out of his grasp, but the pleading look in his eyes deters me. I don’t know how he does it, but Jason’s body language conveys more than words. The way he’s earnestly leaning over me with questioning eyes says it all.
Talk to me.
A request. Not a demand.
A heavy sigh leaves my chest before I make my confession.
“I don’t want a relationship from you,” I admit.
“I’m not looking for pretty words and romantic gestures.
But I’m not just a warm body for you to stick your cock in, either.
” My words taste like venom, not because they’re spoken with the intention to hurt, but because they’re derived from a deep place of insecurity.
“I deserve a little more respect than cold shoulders and the expectation we’re going to fuck whenever you want.”
The pain I’ve been fighting so hard to bury must be detectable in my voice because Jason releases my arm and steps back. The space between us finally allows me room to breathe, to think. The fog his closeness creates dissipates.
Brushing past me, Jason retrieves my coat from the hook by the barn door and hands it to me.
The gesture is rather gentle compared to his usual gruffness.
But those pleading eyes beg me to comply with his request. So I slip the coat on and zip it up while Jason saddles Bessie and his intention becomes clear.
In a matter of minutes, Bessie is saddled and I’m nestled between Jason’s strong thighs atop the horse, my back pressed to his chest so our body heat merges into one. Although he hasn’t said where we’re going, I have a pretty good idea.
Not long after leaving the barn, we pass beneath the towering pines that border the frozen pond Jason brought me to weeks ago.
It doesn’t take a genius to realize how special this place is to him. I told him I don’t need romantic gestures because this isn’t anything serious. But maybe this is a gesture of friendship instead. Cooperation. Comradery.
Maybe bringing me somewhere he holds so sacred is his way of telling me he accepts and respects me.
Jason dismounts Bessie first then guides me off with hands around my ribcage, lowering me to the ground before him. A look passes between us for half a heartbeat before I walk toward the crystallized frozen edge of the pond.
“I know I already apologized,” I speak up, wrapping my arms around myself. “But I really am sorry, Jason. I was weak and too easily influenced by others. I’ve felt guilty for the part I played in prom night ever since. And I’ve been paying for it at the hands of karma everyday.”
He doesn’t say anything, I didn’t expect him to.
I don’t even look back. I just start walking toward the center of the pond.
One foot at a time. The solid ice beneath my feet crunches with the fresh snow beneath each foot step.
Since the snow isn’t falling right now, visibility is clear.
Everything is white. The clouds in the sky, the tree tops, the hardened ice over the water’s surface.
I finally turn around to see Jason standing beside Bessie watching me closely. He looks stuck, unsure…I don’t know. I can’t really place what’s on his face. As much as he can express with just his body language, he can also mask it.
We lock eyes for a long moment before I turn and walk toward the other side of the pond. I don’t know what I’m walking toward, but it feels good to get out of the cabin for a minute and explore somewhere unknown.
A sharp crack is the only warning I have before the ice at the center of the pond shatters beneath my weight and I plummet into the freezing water.
The rush of water in my ears sounds like voices, whispers, calling my name in panic.
“Mara!”