How interesting that I’d spent so many years of my life collecting those things, but when the day came to leave, I didn’t care to take a single one of them with me.
Still, surveying my new home for the summer made me realize that I had a plethora of clothes, shoes, jewelry and makeup—and not much else. I had my laptop, tablet, and sketch book, of course, mostly because I needed those to work. My sewing machine was already set up on the desk downstairs. One box still sat untouched in the SUV with sentimental things from my childhood and I’d managed to take off with three of my most-used coffee mugs and my favorite blanket.
It wasn’t much, but I found I didn’t really need much.
I paused at the sight of my reflection in the dresser mirror as I packed away the seven different swimsuits I’d brought with me and stood straighter. My platinum blonde hair was the only bright thing about me, and I tied it in a knot at the base of my neck almost like I didn’t remember the fun girl it once belonged to. I’d taken my makeup off, leaving my face pale, wide eyes dark like the past I’d left behind, full pink lips in the same neutral position they’d been in since Abdiel had left.
I didn’t smile much anymore, which my team at the boutique jokingly told me was a good thing. Less wrinkles, after all. But I missed my smile—my real smile—and I wondered when it would come home. If it would come home.
I played that thought over and over as I waited for the sound I knew would come. And just like the sun sets and rises, my phone rang at exactly ten o’clock.
Keith had called me every night since I’d left. The first couple of weeks, I made the mistake of answering, but his pleading and denial had turned into anger and hatred. Our last phone call had ended in him calling me a shitty wife and telling me no one would ever love me.
I’d never answered again.
I thought the calls would stop once we filed, and I definitely assumed they would after our court date, but even when the divorce was final, he still called. Sometimes it broke my heart, because he loved me, and I had killed him by leaving. I knew that. I knew we had both been through hell, were still going through it, and neither of us would escape the flames without scars of our own to bear for the rest of our lives.
But his love had changed, just as mine had, and all that remained between us was a toxic opposition of values that left him angry and me resentful. The difference was that I still wished him happiness, but he only wished me to be his—the way he thought I should be.
I counted to eight once the buzzing of my phone had subsided until it began again. But this time, I smiled.
“Oh good,” Adrian said as soon as I picked up. “Just making sure you didn’t answer for Asshole.”
“Haven’t in weeks, babe.”
“I know, but I still like to check.”
I switched the phone into speaker mode when he paused, folding the last of my shorts and tucking them away into the bottom drawer of the only dresser upstairs.
“How are you?” he asked. “Are you... are you in the woods?”
“I’m in the cabin, yes, and I’m okay,” I lied, which made me pause. I didn’t know the last time I said I was okay and actually meant it.
“I almost regret telling you to go and I’d cover things here. Don’t get me wrong, the boutique will be fine, but I miss you already,” he said on a sigh. “This is going to be good, Wren. For your heart. For your soul.”
“I know,” I told him, picking up the phone from the dresser and holding it to my ear once again. “It physically hurts me that I’ve gone so long without being able to sketch. I’m just hoping I can, I don’t know, piece myself back together out here.”
“You will. It’s not in you to give up, Wren Ballard.”
I smiled. Adrian believed in me more than I believed in me most days.
“I never thanked you for letting me stay with you as long as you did, by the way,” I said as I slowly walked down the stairs into the living room. “I owe you and Oscar big time for taking a whiney adult in when you already have a newborn in the house.”
“Oh please, you know you are always more than welcome to stay with us. Seriously,” he emphasized. “Anytime.”
“I know. Thank you.”
Adrian sighed into the other end, and I pictured him running a hand through his always-styled fade. Even though it was late, I imagined he was probably still dressed like he was on his way to the boutique, suit ironed and shoes matching his over-the-shoulder work bag. No doubt he was still donning a perfectly-folded scarf or well-shaped trilby hat, too. Adrian’s style was pristine, and he knew better than anyone how to dress for his skin tone and body type. He was tall, dark as night, and handsome as hell—and he knew it.
“Please promise me you’ll call me often.”
“I promise.”
“And I promise to give you updates on the boutique while you’re gone. I think we’re going to—”
There was a muffled noise on the other end, his voice laced with static.
“Adrian?”
More static.
“Hello?”
His voice cut in and then out again and I pulled the phone back from my ear, noting a barely there service bar in the top left corner of the screen.
“I think I’m losing service.”
I thought I heard him tell me to call him later, but I couldn’t be sure before the call completely failed. I frowned, typing out a quick text to let him know I’d call him later. Placing my phone face-down on the kitchen counter, I let out a long breath through flat lips and looked around.
I’d propped the front door open, but felt a little stupid now that I’d changed into my sleep romper. It was a smooth and soft cotton garnished with beautiful lace detail, the admiral blue fabric breezy and light. It was perfect for sleeping in the city, but now I wished I had something warmer.
I also wished I knew what to do with myself.
I could watch TV, I thought. Or light a fire. I sniffed, wiping at my nose as the cold nipped at it, and that small sound seemed to make such a loud noise.
The silence was deafening.
I raided the cabinets for a glass and poured water from the tap, which seemed too loud amidst the utter and complete quietness of the cabin. I was alone. Really alone. I wondered how far away the neighbors were. And then I wondered if there were any crazy mountain men running loose.
Which was probably why I screamed like the last survivor of a horror movie at the sound of a croaky meow behind me.
My sock-covered feet slipped on the wood, and I struggled to catch my balance while not dropping the glass now bobbling between my hands. I finally caught my grip and steadied myself, heart racing and hair wild, and looked down to find the culprit behind the terror attack simply gazing up at me. He flicked his tail on the hardwood floor.
And the bastard meowed again.
I closed my eyes, hand still pressed against my racing heart as I let out a shaky laugh.
“Well hello there, little guy.” Wait. “Girl?”
The cat meowed again, lifting himself from the floor to do a little turn before plopping down again— just long enough for me to see that he was, indeed, a he, and to come to the conclusion that he hadn’t eaten in a while. My stomach growled, reminding me I hadn’t stopped unpacking to eat.
“You hungry?” I asked, eying him over my shoulder as I searched through the cabinets and fridge.