Chapter 17 Thea
THEA
It’s been a few days since my talk with Dr. Sullivan.
Work is continuing to slow down much to my dismay.
Ever since that talk, I’ve been sleeping terribly, dreaming of Connor and our time together before all of this.
I know why he’s so much on my mind; the one-year anniversary of his death is just over a week away now.
When I think too long on it, I can feel the panic taking over and I can’t allow that to happen.
I originally had that day off but swapped it for another.
I can’t think of dealing with the anniversary being home alone with just my own thoughts for company.
I need to stay busy, so I’m not sitting in my cart with tears slowly rolling down my face, again.
I don’t know what it is about this place but that mental box I keep shoving down and away has been breaking little by little since I got here.
It’s now my end of shift ritual, after finishing the last cabin.
I park in between two of the Andromeda cabins, one of them being the one closed down for renovations, and look out at the woods surrounding this place or the lake in the opposite direction.
No one is staying in the other cabin so it’s been the perfect spot for me to be alone and enjoy the scenery.
Part of me wants to just go walk into the woods and scream my heart out—that thought usually comes up when I’m getting emotional.
Like today. At least I’m not panicking. Every time I break down it’s gotten easier to deal with, at least physically.
I’m sure a psychologist would tell me exactly why that is but either way I’m glad I don’t have to worry about hyperventilating.
I don’t cry every time I come to this spot.
It depends how much my mental boxes are cracking that day.
Today was hard. I was in the main lodge when I caught a scent that reminded me of Connor.
I have no idea who it belonged to but it was enough to trigger me and have me running out of that place like it was on fire.
Crunch. Crunch, is all I hear before someone mutters, “Need your help again.”
Turning my head slightly from where it’s rested on the seat headrest, I see Keelan standing next to the cart.
Well, more like leaning—no, squatting—down to my level.
He really is insanely tall. Again, he says it, not a question or a demand, just a statement.
Leaving it open for me to decide where to go.
It did help last time. Decision made, I move to get out and follow him to the cabin.
He steps aside, giving me space and instead of leading me, he walks at my side.
I glance up at him to see him looking straight ahead.
His dirty blond hair is pushed back with a few pieces falling in his face.
His beard is thick but neatly trimmed. He looks like a woodsman out of one of the romance books I’ve read.
If I see him chopping wood I don’t know if I’d swoon or laugh at how fitting it is.
When we get onto the porch he walks over to some tools, grabbing them and something else I can’t see.
I just kind of stand there, waiting for him to tell me what needs to be done.
I don’t know if it’s just with me or him in general that he’s not much of a talker but I’m okay with that.
It’s nice not having every moment filled with something.
He returns and places his hand on the center of my back, so lightly I barely feel it.
It’s like he’s afraid to touch me. I look up at him, slightly surprised.
Other than that doctor’s appointment no one has really touched me in any way beyond a handshake.
The omega in me wants to lean into his touch so badly.
But that would be so inappropriate since I barely know him.
I look into his eyes, admiring how the light is hitting them just right where they look like golden amber.
They’re beautiful. His oak scent is surrounding me, making my body feel more relaxed than I thought possible especially after crying a few minutes ago.
He never comments on the obvious fact that I’ve been crying.
With the faintest pressure to my back, he leads me over to one of the porch chairs and gestures for me to sit, which I do.
Wow uhm, he always feels like a giant when we’re both standing next to each other but now I feel like a child looking up at him from this seated position.
I’m definitely confused on what we’re doing but sheesh, I’m not used to being around men so much bigger than me.
It really was just Connor and his dad Max that would make me feel that way but not to this extreme.
Keelan is bigger than both of them in muscle and height.
I feel like I should be intimidated, right?
It’s not like I really know him but all I feel is safe. Something must be wrong with me.
Keelan extends his hand that’s holding a piece of wood for me to take, which I do. I look back up to him questioningly but before I can say anything he’s handing me some kind of tool. “Carve something,” he says softly as he goes to leave.
I’m so confused. “Wait! How do you use this?” I asked hurriedly.
He looks at me, then the tool in my hand then back at me, seeming to come to some sort of realization.
He walks back over, squatting down to my level and showing me how to use it to slowly peel away bits of the wood.
It’s simple enough. Maybe he didn’t consider I would have no idea what this tool is.
He gets up and goes to the other side of the porch to continue working.
I both enjoy the fact that he doesn’t talk a lot but also hate it because he’s so confusing and it makes me want to know more about him.
Smiling to myself, I begin working on carving the piece of wood.
I don’t really know what I’m making. As time goes by, I find myself lost in this project, my thoughts continuously circling back to Keelan.
I really appreciate that he doesn’t ask me what’s wrong when he finds me crying in my little cart.
It never feels like he doesn’t care, more like he knows asking me is the last thing I need in those moments.
It’s nice to have someone just understand that.
Most people would want to help and dig deeper into what the problem is but I just can’t go there.
That makes me think of Connor’s mom, Sophie.
I love her but she’d totally be that person.
The little bit I let out in these moments alone seem to be the most I can handle.
I’m afraid what will happen if I ever just say fuck it and let everything I’ve been bottling up over the last year out.
A tiny part of me wants to do that so badly.
The mental energy of pushing and pushing it down every single day is exhausting.
Ever since I got here it’s felt like all those boxes I locked everything away in have been cracking, letting things out I don’t want to face head-on.
I have a feeling that sooner or later they’ll break open eventually in some big emotional explosion I won’t be ready for.
That’s nearly what happened on Connor’s birthday back in Chicago.
I’ve been hoping these moments where I’ve let a little bit of it out has eased the pressure but my gut says that’s not the case.
The best way to avoid all of that is to keep busy.
I need to see if Rebecca will give me some overtime; I doubt it, especially when the busy season just ended.
Or maybe I can find a second job somewhere in town.
I need more of those days where I’m so busy working and exhausted by the end of the day I don’t have the energy to think deeply about anything beyond dinner and going to sleep.
I’m so lost in my head I don’t even notice what I’ve been carving.
It’s an extremely crude shape of a heart.
It makes me smile even with its roughness.
Maybe it’s how my own heart looks right about now.
The barely-there smile falls from my face; it’d be a shattered heart if it really were to look how mine is right now.
The pile of wood shavings scattered at my feet is truer to my own heart.
Anyways, I guess this would make a good paperweight or something.
I have no idea what kind of wood this is but after working on it, it’s almost white.
Amber eyes pop in my mind and I look over, seeing Keelan working on one of the banisters, in his own world.
I can see the appeal this kind of work has because it’s almost meditative.
The color of his eyes would look so pretty for this heart.
I wonder if there’s a wood stain that would match them.
Now that I’m looking around, I can see it’s starting to get dark.
I need to go before it gets late. Standing, I brush some of the lingering wood shavings off my pants and walk over to Keelan, who’s sitting on the floor doing something to the banister at the top of the stairs.
The reversal of positions is almost funny, because now I’m the one standing over him.
Though with his height even while he’s sitting, he isn’t that much shorter than me, not like I was when he was standing over me.
I take a couple steps down so we’re more eye to eye.
I’m not so oblivious that I don’t see how ruggedly handsome he is.
First, I hand him his tool back, which he takes, then I hold out my hand, waiting for him to extend his.
His brows pinch together in confusion as he does so, placing the heart I carved in his hand with a smile.
I’m proud of that little rugged heart, I guess it matches him more than me.
His eyes widen just slightly when he realizes what it is.
I can’t talk about why his distractions help me so much without opening that can of worms but this is a thank you gesture I can do.
“I want you to have it as a thank you. Maybe you can stain it a golden brown or amber color if that’s something that exists,” I say with a nervous laugh at the end.
He doesn’t say anything, just looking at it like it has the answers to the universe or something.
Maybe he’s not used to gifts? He does seem like an acts of service kind of guy.
That love language book will never not pop back in my head at the most random times.
I shuffle a little awkwardly on the step I’m still perched on waiting to see if he responds.
When he doesn’t, I take the last few steps until I’m on the ground in front of the cabin.
Before I turn to leave, I say, “Goodnight.”
He finally looks up; his expression takes me aback and I don’t know why. He has the faintest hint of a smile under that beard, but it’s his eyes that get me. They look as if he’s beaming with happiness, like his soul is so happy it’s pouring out in his gaze.
“Goodnight, Thea,” he says, his voice deep.
I nod and quickly walk back to my cart. My mouth is suddenly dry and I feel off.
What the hell was that? Why did that affect me so much?
He literally just smiled and said goodnight.
Sheesh. Get it together, Thea. I was feeling more relaxed, now I feel unsettled but not in a bad way.
Maybe this has to do with the upcoming heat.
Yeah, that’s definitely it.