25. Chapter 25
Chapter 25
Rina
Willow drops off paninis within twenty minutes, and I’m happy she brought extra because I eat my weight in them, realizing I haven’t eaten at all today.
I think I’m still a little in shock that Arlo fixed my entire workshop in less than a day while I was freaking out, emailing customers, and sleeping. I may still be in shock that the place got trashed in the first place.
I wouldn’t have believed the mysterious texter was the same person who did this if not for the creepy-as-hell note left behind.
The sensation of whiplash feels like an apt description for the latest day of my life. Whatever good Arlo has brought into my life currently feels like it’s being quickly ripped out from underneath me by this sleazeball. It’s one thing to send anonymous texts but another entirely to destroy someone’s property because of some misguided thoughts of ownership. For God’s sake, what fucking century are we in anyway?
“You want to talk about it?” Arlo asks as we finish our food.
“Not really, but hiding from things has never really solved anything.” I wince as I hear the words I said back, not realizing I just inadvertently called out Arlo. “That wasn’t directed at you,” I add quickly.
“I know, but you’re also not wrong. I looked over everything you sent me, and I’m really struggling with the fact you didn’t think to come to me about it, regardless of where we stand together. This is something serious that you should have taken to the police, to me, not brushed aside because you thought it was harmless.” He’s getting worked up; I can tell by the vein slightly popping in his neck.
“As I already explained, Sheriff Arlo, I blocked it and moved on. They didn’t attempt to contact me again, and I wasn’t worried. I clearly should have been, but I didn’t think it would escalate to…” I gesture over to the workshop, and my head fills with images of my work demolished. Everything I’ve built and worked so damn hard on gone in an instant, and the tears rush out once again.
“Shit, I’m sorry. I’m not trying to lecture you.” He scoots over next to me and pulls me into him. “I have never been as scared as I was when I picked up that phone. I would smash into ten more trees, fuck up my back twenty times over, rather than hear you sobbing on the phone again.” His words are soft, but his meaning is loud, and it shakes me to my core.
My shoulders shake, and I can barely keep another breakdown at bay. I haven’t cried this much in fifteen years, and I’m beyond over it. I know a massive migraine is waiting for me once the dust settles, but that’s a problem for later.
“Please don’t cry anymore. I promise I’ll handle it all. I’ll find this asshole; I’ll take care of him and make sure he never does this to you or any other person again.” The anger in his voice shocks me. As the sheriff, I fully expect him to arrest someone like this if he gets enough evidence and all that, but this feels different. This is specific to me.
I shift so I can run my hand along his back, and for once he doesn’t stiffen. “Why are you so worked up about this? We can figure out who it is, and then you do your police thing and arrest him. Nothing more, nothing less. This overprotective act is a bit much, even for you,” I joke.
He looks at me then, staring deep into my eyes like he’s seeing into my soul. I’m so lost in his gaze I almost miss what he says in his whispered tone.
“It’s different because you’re my wife, and I need to protect you.”
I jolt back before stumbling to stand.
“What did you just say?”
The pain I see in his eyes has my heart cracking in two. I don’t understand what this means, and my confusion must be written all over my face.
“Sit. Let me explain please,” he pleads.
“I’ll stand. Talk,” I clip.
“Fuck.” He runs his hand over his buzzed head. “This is not how I wanted you to find out.”
“Find out what?!” I’m bordering on hysterics, and I can’t do anything to stop it. He can’t mean what he said, right? I signed the fucking papers. Sure, he tattooed the heart I signed the note with on his skin, but that doesn’t mean we’re married still … right?
“I never filed the papers.” It’s so quiet, yet it’s as loud as a train whistle.
“You what ? You have two minutes to explain, so talk fast.” I’m losing every ounce of my rational brain at an alarming rate, and I know I need the full story before I completely blow up on him, but I’m so close to kicking him out of my house forever, regardless of what he says.
“When you sent the papers back, I knew it was what was best for you, but I second-guessed it every minute. It was like I knew letting go was the right thing, but I just … couldn’t do it. And I know that’s so fucked up, but I couldn’t force myself to submit them, even though I knew it was wrong.” He sounds ashamed, but it does nothing to soothe my shattered heart.
Physical pain radiates from the stupid, gullible organ deep within my chest. At the moment, I don’t know what to trust, but I do know I need him out of my house. I can’t think about anything logical with him sitting nearby.
“Get out,” the strangely calm voice I realize is mine says.
“Rina…”
“Get out Arlo. Don’t come back unless you are explicitly invited.” I turn on my heel, walk up to my house, then to my bedroom, and slam the door before heading to the bathroom. Turning on the shower, I walk in fully clothed. Collapsing on the floor in a mess of tears and confusion, I sit, soaking wet, until the water makes me shiver, forcing me out in order to warm back up.
Betrayed.
All I feel is the betrayal of Arlo’s actions. It’s been like this all night, and I can’t even get out of bed now that it’s morning.
The thought still ringing loud and clear in my head is, How the fuck are we still married?
It’s a thought that I just can’t wrap my head around.
A cherry on top of an already fucked-up sundae .
Turning over in bed, I check my phone to see it’s ten in the morning, later than I’ve slept in far too many years. I also notice an influx of text notifications. A few from Arlo, which isn’t altogether shocking but not something I want to deal with right now, and the rest from the family group chat.
I open it up to hopefully distract myself for a few minutes.
Ledger:
Whose house are we doing family dinner at tonight?
Lennox:
I think I’m out tonight, guys, sorry. I tried to go for a little hike through the park, and I’m exhausted. I definitely overdid it.
The mix of feeling so damn happy he got out of the house and heartbroken he didn’t call any of us to help him is too much for my already heavily confused heart. I know this is a tremendous step, regardless of if I think it was right or wrong to go out by himself, and I need to count this as a huge win.
Me:
Look at you, getting out early and grabbing life by its balls.
I try to go for my usual sarcasm in the hopes my siblings don’t pick up on anything. I know, realistically, at dinner, I’m going to get grilled because there is no way the news of Arlo and me together at Sal’s hasn’t gotten around by then.
Lennox:
Yeah, it sounded good on principle, but now I’m paying for the lack of physical activity I’ve had in over a month.
Ledger:
No worries, if you change your mind, we can always bring the party to you. Just let us know.
Lennox:
Will do, thanks.
Willow:
Sorry, sorry! Got caught up writing a scene. Oakley and I will be there tonight. Lenny, awesome job! Proud of you! Now, get some sleep. We’ll drop off a sandwich on the way to dinner.
I flip the phone over, glad everyone is taken care of because I need a minute to figure out what’s in my head. The things I currently know are:
Arlo and I are technically still married.
I want to date Arlo.
I lost all my work in my workshop.
The trust I was starting to get back with Arlo feels completely broken.
And I have no idea where to go from here in my personal or professional life.
I don’t think I’ve felt this lost since my parents died and Arlo broke my heart fifteen years ago, which isn’t surprising. I assumed I wouldn’t ever be put in a position like this again. That I would close myself off to this feeling, and I had, until Arlo broke that down too .
Fucking Arlo.
Who the fuck files for divorce, sends the papers, and then doesn’t actually submit them? And doesn’t once have a conversation with me about it? I mean, shit, even for how young we were, that’s just appalling. I don’t understand his reasoning—not that I really heard him out if he had more of an explanation—but I’m honestly not sure any clarification would help me come to terms with all of this.
The worst part of all of this is that I can’t just pretend he doesn’t exist again. I can’t shove him back into that tiny little box of hatred because I know he’s not going to leave me alone with this stalker situation. And I maybe started to like being around him again, and I don’t know how to shut that off now that the spout is open.
What a mess.
Rolling over in bed, I punch the pillow a couple of times, trying to get my aggression out or get comfortable. Who knows at this point. But all it serves to do is remind me I can’t bury myself in work today. Arlo told me he would let me know when he was done investigating, and as much as I want to ignore him just to be defiant, I know it’s not the best course of action.
I figure I have two, maybe three options to kill time before family dinner. I could just head over to Ledger and Ainsley’s early and spend the day there, but their overly lovey ways might make me lose my mind. I could lie here and wallow in my too many thoughts and nurse my migraine, which honestly sounds horrible. Or I could go hike through the park. Sam Houston National Park has acres of paths to get lost in and fresh air that might just allow me to figure out how to move forward with Arlo.
The fresh air felt refreshing.
But it didn’t help my tumultuous thoughts at all. My hopes of clearing my head before family dinner were dashed as fast as they came, and now I’m on my way to Ledger’s house, hoping I can keep my emotions under wraps.
“Rinaaaaaaaa,” Ainsley drawls from a rocking chair on the porch as I climb out of my truck.
“Ainsleyyyyyy,” I mimic.
“Ledger is forcing me not to work, even though we have a huge project coming up, and I’m bored. You should have come over earlier,” she whines.
“You could have texted me if it was that dire,” I titter as I sit in the rocker next to her.
“I got Ledger to keep me company.” She winks, and I can’t hold back the gag.
“Please don’t… We had a deal—no sex talk about my brother.” I groan.
Her giggle sounds out around me, and I have to laugh with her.
We talk about how our weeks have been, and before we know it, Willow and Oakley are pulling up, signaling the start of family dinner.
“How’d Lenny look?” I ask Oakley as we follow Ainsley inside.
“Tired but good, honestly. He got a little sun on his face, and it seemed really good for him. He’s just annoyed he’s so out of shape.”
“Yeah, slowing down is his nightmare, so I’m sure he’s grumpy as shit.”
“Don’t let him hear you say that.” He chuckles.
“Whose favorite are you making?” Willow asks Ledger once we’re all in the kitchen.
“Burgers,” he yells over his shoulder as he takes a plate out to the back patio to the grill.
Yes, my favorite. I almost fist bump but choose to play it cool. After the last couple of days, something as simple as this is bumping my spirits exponentially.
It takes no time to cook dinner while we’re all talking about nothing of consequence. Ledger and Oakley keep giving me looks like they are checking to make sure I’m okay, and it’s skyrocketing my blood pressure. I’ve been able to push my thoughts on the stalker to the side a little, thanks to Arlo’s bombshell confession, and now their concerned looks are bringing it to the forefront of my mind.
Dinner starts off well enough. We go around saying what our favorite thing about the week was, but when it’s my turn, it all goes downhill.
“My favorite thing this week is…” I think and try to come up with something, but my brain is blank. All I can think about is everything that went wrong. “My favorite thing is…” I try again, but the pressure behind my eyes is signaling that I’m two seconds away from another breakdown.
“Oh shit,” I distantly hear Ainsley say, and before I realize what’s happening, she and Willow are wrapped around me as I cry over my burger.
“I’m ruining family dinner!” I wail because, somehow, it feels like just another blow .
“You are not. You’ve had a lot happen this week, and it’s completely acceptable to still be feeling all of that,” Willow says.
I take a couple of deep breaths in an attempt to calm myself down, and everyone takes it as a hint to finish dinner. I barely hear the rest of the conversation as we finish dinner, but once the plates are cleared and everyone has a drink in hand, all attention turns back to me.
“So… You and Arlo?” Ledger asks in a tone I can quite decipher.
Sighing, I put my drink down, knowing this is a conversation that needs to happen but one I’m not ready for.
“Me and Arlo.”
“I thought you hated each other,” he continues like me being uncomfortable doesn’t matter.
I glance at Ainsley, and she nods in encouragement.
“Arlo and I dated before he went to the Marines, and then when he came home from basic training, we got married.” The silence that greets me suddenly blows up in loud voices trying to talk over each other.
I hold up my hand for them to stop. “I’ll tell you guys everything, but you have to shut up. I can’t handle the million questions right now. My head is pounding.” Ledger’s jaw clenches, but he nods as everyone else follows suit.
I tell them about our history and how we have managed to reconnect, if that’s what we want to call it, but I keep the fact we’re still married to myself. I feel like I need a better handle on it before I start talking about it.
“I’m not saying this all makes perfect sense, buttttt this makes perfect sense,” Willow says as she smirks over at Oakley.
“Why do you say that?” I ask .
“Because there’s no way you hate someone as much as you hated Arlo without a huge reason, and I’d say getting dumped without an explanation after our parents died is the best kind of reason. Although, I always thought there was some tension there,” Willow says.
I roll my eyes. “You’re delusional.”
“Am I, though? Are you not currently hooking up with your ex-husband?” She giggles. “God, that’s weird to say.”
I could tell her it’s weirder because he’s still my husband, but I refrain.
“Not currently, no.” I go for some form of the truth. I don’t know what the future holds for Arlo and me, but I do know we won’t be hooking up anytime soon.
“And what’s going on with this stalker? Arlo texted Ledger about a break-in, and now it’s a stalker?” Ainsley asks, hurt poking through her words. She’s my best friend, and it sure seems like I’ve hidden a lot from her.
“I don’t really know what’s going on with that. I’ve gotten a few texts that were creepy, but I didn’t think much of them. Then he trashed my workshop and left a note on my desk, leading Arlo to think it’s all connected.”
“It is. Did you give Arlo all the texts? It’ll help him try to figure out a connection. We were talking earlier about how to trace some leads,” Oakley adds.
“Yes, I gave him everything,” I snark. I almost feel bad, but everyone is acting like I’m a child and it’s pissing me off.
“Good, I’ll get with him later, then.”
Rolling my eyes again, I pick up my drink and down half of the can in one go.
“Are you okay?” Ainsley asks .
I look around at most of my family looking at me with concern, and it breaks me once more.
“No, I don’t think I am,” I hiccup.
Willow and Ainsley surround me once more before sitting on either side of me as I attempt to work through my thoughts.
Oakley looks on awkwardly and Ledger just looks pissed, but I’m more worried that I’ll never be able to figure out how to move forward. These mental block and insane emotions are wreaking havoc on my life.
“If there was nothing else going on, what do you want with Arlo? Is this something you want to continue to explore?” Ainsley asks.
Instead of over-analyzing it to death, I say the first thing that comes to my mind.
“Yes.”
As soon as the word is out there, I know it’s the truth. It doesn’t mean we don’t have a ton to work through, or that I forgive him for not sending in the divorce papers and lying to me this entire time. But it does mean I think it’s worth trying to work through. It’s worth putting in the work because I’m never as happy as I am with Arlo Steel.
I look around at my siblings and their partners, and realize the dream of finding what they have never really went away. I have a chance to get that again with Arlo, and I think I’d hate myself if I didn’t try. If we make it through the storm, maybe I can have everything I’ve always wanted.
My phone dings, distracting me, and I check it, expecting another text from Arlo.
Unknown:
I’ll be seeing you soon, Marina.