Before I could talk myself out of it, I lifted the center console, unbuckled her seat belt and pulled her into the center seat, my arm wrapped tightly around her legs as I gripped the backside of her knees. She didn’t fight me, and as I eased out of the parking lot, her head easily rested against my shoulder, driving in a comfortable silence as I’m sure we had done so many times before.
-----
Presley fell asleep on the forty-minute drive out to the one place that always seemed to bring me peace. Her whimpers had faded to nothing, while she clung to my arm. This felt natural between us. I kissed her forehead, my free hand brushed back the few wispy tendrils off her face, her skin so delicate, so soft, and for the first time in weeks I could honestly say she looked at peace. I always knew she was struggling with something deep; it was written behind her eyes. No matter how hard she tried to cover it, the pain I caused her was there, lurking, gnawing at her.
“Presley, sweetheart. Wake up. We’re here.”
She nuzzled her head against my neck, gave my arm a tight squeeze, and pulled her head off of me. Her hand quickly rushed to cover her mouth as she turned bright red in the glow of the cab light. Mortification washed over her face, and she was so damn cute.
“Oh my God! Robert, I’m so sorry.”
“For what?”
She wiped her mouth again and pointed at my shoulder.
I glanced down and noticed a small wet stain on my shoulder. “It’s a rental Presley, I don’t care you drooled on me. Instead, I kinda take it as a compliment. I’m either incredibly sexy, and you can't stop thinking about me”—she giggles and rolls her eyes—“or you feel safe with me and can completely relax. Either way, I’m not mad about it.”
She begins to take in her surroundings as she looks around, confusion written on her face, and as she slides over to open the door and asks, “You brought me back to the ranch?”
I must have brought her out here before. I’ve never shown anyone this place, but she knew exactly where we were.
“I come here when I need to think. When I need answers, and I’m not sure where to get them. Something about this place gives me a fresh perspective on things.”
She closes the truck door, and I roll the windows down, turning on an old alternative station and setting the volume loud enough to whisper out of the open windows. I make quick work of setting up the bed of the truck with a couple of pillows and blankets I stashed in the toolbox at the back and then extend my hand out to her to pull her up into the bed of the truck with me.
She glares at me and crosses her arms over her chest. “What the hell did you think was gonna happen tonight, Robert? Pillows, blankets? A romantic view of the night sky and a rushing creek for ambience sound? If you think you’re getting lucky, you’re dead wrong mister.”
She’s cute when she’s feisty.
“No. I didn’t think I was getting lucky, unless by lucky you meant finally being able to talk to you without anyone interrupting us or outside distractions, then yes, yes, I was hoping to get lucky, very lucky. You said we could go anywhere, do anything, and this is what I want to do. This is what I need to do to be able to move forward, I think. In whatever capacity that might mean. And as for the pillows and blankets, I always keep stashed in my truck, I figured sitting on these was far more comfortable than sitting on cold hard metal. Now quit being so damn stubborn and give me your hand.”
She continues to glare at me. “You do realize I’m in a floor-length gown and heels, right?”
“Yea, so?”
“And you have at least a six-inch lift on your truck. Do the math Robert, I’m not climbing in there tonight. I don’t exactly feel like breaking my neck. Throw me a blanket, and we can sit down here.”
She does have a point but damn it, I want to sit with her in the bed of my truck. I want to feel her next to me, and if I give into her, we’ll end up sitting on rocks, and the chance of staying out here all night with her is almost zero. She knows where we are, she knows the house is a little way away, and she’ll want to go home when she gets tired. So, I do the only logical thing, I jump down, throw her over my shoulder, and toss her up into the bed. A small squeak sneaks out along with a few giggles.
“Better?”
“Did you have to be such a brute about it?”
“Depends, is this better?”
“I guess.”
“Then, yes. Yes I did have to be a brute. Now settle in and get comfortable, because I have questions and you have answers.” I climb up next to her and settle in against the toolbox, patting the seat next to me waiting for her to get comfortable and join me.
“Question one. Did I hurt you?”
She takes a deep breath and her voice turns somber. “Why won't you let this go.”
“Because I need to know, Presley.”
“And what happens when you don’t like the answer?”
“Then I’ll at least know what to work on. How to move forward. So, for the last time, did I hurt you?”
She’s quiet for what seems like hours, her eyes locked on the stream in front of us, the full moon illuminating her features as I watch her struggle with what to tell me.
“Yes,” she whispers.
I knew deep down I had hurt her; I saw the way she broke an hour before. She was strong, but somehow, I knew I pushed her to be stronger than any reasonable person would have been. “How?”
She takes a deep breath and opens up to me.
“Robert, there are seven months missing from your memory that I don’t know if you will ever get back. I trust you with every fiber of my body, and yet you don’t have a single clue who I am.
“You woke up, and I terrified you, you sought refuge with Heather, not me. You believed her and never once approached me. We began planning a future together, and not even seventy-two hours later, I watched you play fucking tonsil hockey with her. I watched her hang over you day after day, and you let her. It bothers me that you didn’t push her off. And yea, maybe it was my fault. Maybe had I not stayed away, she would have backed off, but then in your eyes, I’d be this jealous friend of Liv’s if I even made it to that classification. But you would probably have stopped at crazy psycho stalker.
“The way you looked at me when you woke up was gut-wrenching, because I caused you fear, that moment has haunted my nightmares day in and day out. So yes, Robert, you hurt me. Am I mad at you? Damn right, I’m mad at you, but then I’m mad at myself for being mad at you. It’s a vicious circle going around and around. It’s not like you knew what you were doing. You had no idea we were together, and yea, your friends tried to tell you, tried to fill in the missing pieces, but you didn’t trust them. You have to figure out things on your own. It’s how you work.”
I can feel the heat radiating off of her, her chest rises and falls with every deep breath she takes, trying to calm herself down. There it all was. There was nothing left to say. Nothing left to ask. I’ve unknowingly hurt her deeper than I could have fathomed. We sit there in total silence, “Kings of Leon” playing in the background. Her eyes are fixed on something along the stream’s edge as she sits detached. I thought I would be picking up the pieces of an emotional woman, but not even a tear forms in her eye, and I feel guilty as hell.