Chapter 17 #3
“I don’t mind at all that you’re drinking.
It’s just that this is something that you’ll find out about me…
and it’s hard to talk about.” I take a sip of lemonade to wet my lips, but it doesn’t help the words flow out any easier.
“After my husband and daughter passed away, I started drinking. At one point, about a half year or so after they died, I drank so much I fell down the stairs in my house, passed out, and woke up in the morning on the cold, hard tile, with dried-up blood covering the left side of my face.” I look at him, but his expression is unreadable.
At least he isn’t looking at me with disgust. “I could have died. Maybe a part of me wanted to. When I saw myself in the mirror, I was happy my daughter couldn’t see who I’d become.
A sad drunk. If you pull up my real name on social media, you would be able to see my career in ballet, my marriage to a well-known writer, the causes I believed in, but you would also see a photo snapped of me, walking out of a liquor store with two bottles of wine in my hand, and I looked like a wreck. That photo was correct. I was a wreck.”
He pushes his drink aside and takes my hand while I keep talking.
“I kept drinking after I fell down the stairs. For another six months. And then, that photo was shot, and I finally stopped drinking. And a little after that, I met my ex. I should have given myself more time to just be me. Without drinking and without being with someone else.” I take another sip of lemonade then run my finger over the rim of the glass before meeting his eyes.
“I wasn’t ready yet to make good choices or to see things as clearly as I needed.
That’s how he got away with fooling me. And maybe I’m still not ready. For… anyone else in my life.”
“I’m not going to push you for anything, Wren. I’m just going to be here. For you. Remember the last rule of the house?”
“Put the dishes in the dishwasher?” I smile softly at him because, like everything else I’ve thrown at him, he’s taking it so well. “How are you so sweet?”
“Now, that’s not something anyone has ever asked me before.”
I set my glass down on the table and sit back, smiling at him. “Can we talk about you now, instead of me?”
“It’ll be a short conversation. I’m a simple guy.” He nudges up a shoulder. “I’m not hiding anything. You don’t know everything about me, but I am what I seem. Handsome. Straightforward. A good kisser.”
I look away, hiding a smile and suddenly shy because I want to know so much more.
If he was ever married. Ever had children.
Ever fell in love, real, deep love, and was able to hold on to it for as long as he could.
Instead, I lean over and kiss him. When he wraps his arms around me and tugs me closer, I pull back, just to look at his face and smile at him.
“Just checking to see if I’m lying about being a good kisser?
” He chuckles and runs a finger over my lips, then kisses my nose.
My cheeks. My lips. Just a taste. A tease.
Just enough that I have to pull him to me.
He lets me. And for a brief moment, his kisses make me forget every single trouble I have.
He pulls away and groans. “I’m hoping to make whoever that is go away.” He frowns at a pickup pulling in front of the cabin. A horn blares, and Danni’s head pops out of the window. “Can we steal Wren for a while?”
John’s frown becomes even more severe. “She should stay here.”
“We promise to keep her safe. We’re not leaving the property.” Danni stares him down, and it’s obvious she isn’t giving in.
“You okay with this?” he asks me. “You’re not too tired? Or in pain?”
“I’m okay.” I’m not okay. It’s probably a good thing we were interrupted. I feel like my whole body is burning up, and it’s not the heat. I want to keep kissing John. And, I just told him I don’t want to jump into anything but directly after, I threw myself at him.
Danni and Emma are mooning over Monster, who has run out to greet them.
“You sure?” John asks me.
“It’ll be good for me. Really.” I need some time away to cool down.
“They know who I am, so I won’t have to—"
Danni steps onto the porch with a cooler strung over her shoulder. She zips it open and hands John two plastic cups. “That’s for you and Monster. We have a picnic basket for us gals. And I have your splint, Wren.” She hands John another package. He looks inside and nods without saying anything.
While Danni and Emma chat with John, he helps me get the splint on, so it hugs and stabilizes my wrist.
“I’ll put that on the counter,” Danni says, taking the bag from John. Emma joins her, leaving the two of us alone.
John’s eyes burrow into mine. “Danni and Emma know who you are? As in, they know your real name?”
I nod. “I’m sorry. I know I haven’t told you my real name yet…” I look up into his eyes, trying to read his expression, but it’s deadpan. “My deceased husband knew Danni. Not well, but she recognized me because we met once. And she said something to Emma.”
He nods. “You don’t owe me any explanations.” His expression is grave. “Do you understand that?” He runs a finger across my cheek then bends over and kisses me on the top of my head. “Have fun with the gals, Tiny. Monster and I will be fine.”