Page 32 of Bride of Choice

Something had to change and that something was gonna have to be me.

My gaze kept darting towards the suitcase under my bed.

It all had to start, or stop, with me.

Motivated by this need for change, I popped my last two pain relievers as I worked out a game plan to get my life on track, lamenting the loss of my last two pain pills so close to Aunt Judy— the less painfully obvious period nickname I’d chosen for the read death, if only to myself, at times to amuse myself, because I was well aware of just how weird that sounded. I have my quirks, okay, but don’t we fucking all?

Swearing to myself I was going to say it and mean it this time, stick to my guns with Rek, I’d secured my pelts in the hiding spot Rek had yet to find, was all set to hunt down a few needed, must have items, when I got two steps towards my door to leave and couldn’t do so without wanting to cry. God damn hip!

Ouch, damn it.

Ugh, I’m broken.

I’ll stick to my guns tomorrow, when everything hurt less and I could hopefully walk.

Hobbling towards my bed to flop down onto it with a groan, I stared at my ceiling, debating the meaning of life, whether I was the thing overcomplicating my life, or my life was just that fucking complicated.

I fell asleep like that, one leg dangling off the edge of my bed, and then woke up sore as fuck there as much as the rest of me come first light.

If Rek had tried to wriggle his arse past that suitcase or dislodge it from where it was jammed in tight, I’d been so exhausted I hadn’t heard a peep. There’d been no smacking on my door from him, demanding entry, either.

Daisy stopped by, expecting to do a bit of gardening with me. One look at me, assuming I was sick and not depressed or devastated, I’d gotten off easy and she’d offered to restock Rosa on all the herbs I’d lost in my basket. I’d left out my bum hip and sore ass. Let her assume I’ve caught the ick— it would buy me a few more days to sit in my thoughts unaccosted.

Deciding hiding out was a much better plan than facing anything right now, I was going on three days all to my lonesome, not a peep from a single soul, not even Rek, before a being came-a-knockin’.

A part of me was a little hurt it had taken so long for anyone to note my absence and come check on me— I’m a needy bitch, I’ll admit this right now —but the other half of me was annoyed anyone’d had the gall to come bugging me when I was supposedly down with the ick at all.

I was born into the wrong weirdness. Coulda totally been a troll, rocked it protecting my bridge, just give me access to clean water, food, and plenty to read, I’d have been in heaven.

The sudden pounding of someone rapping, tippity flippin’ tapping, bare hand slapping on my chamber door, had me jumping, squawking as I started. Scowling, willing my racing heart to chill, I glanced up from where I was laying on my side reading, icing my hip with snow doubly wrapped in waxed cloth, trying to take my mind off of the pain, at the knock at the door.

“If it’s who I think it is, go away! If it’s not, what the hell do you want?!” I called out. “I’m sick, haven’t you heard?!” Letting out a few fake coughs, I hoped that would be the end of it.

See? Troll. Where’s my effing bridge?

The knocking continued, no one answering.

With a growl, I stood. Damn it. Make me get up… Just when I was reading the good part… My tailbone had decided to join in on the not feeling so good fun. There was a huge swath of my thigh covered in black, blue, purple, and the beginnings of yellows, from what I’d dared to peek at. Bum-bum hadn’t meant to, I didn’t think, but that fool had fucked me up.

I felt like a broken old woman wincing my way over to shout at the blasted asshole interrupting my solitude. I just wanted to sulk and regret my very bad life decisions, okay?!

Throwing the door open, I scowled, then blinked to find Gopher standing there, bent and examining something on the ground.

“What in the world are you doing?” I blink-blinked a bit more stupidly, staring down at his bent form.

Picking up whatever he was looking at, he held it up, gave it a sniff, then scowled. “No smell like anyone’s,” he noted with a questioning look as he held out a small glass jar with a little yellow flower on it that matched my nails.

“You mean you weren’t just knocking on my door?” My eyebrows shot up when he sniffed the jar a few more times and shook his head. Eyeing him frowning at that jar, I asked, “Do you know what that stuff is?”

“For boo-boos, as Jo says,” he informed me with a shrug. “Maybes from Rothy and males?”

“Really?” But I didn’t tell any of them I was injured… Taking the jar from him, I gave it a sniff, grimacing at the medicinal, herbal smell. “Is it strong?”

“Smell strong.” His head bobbed in a nod. I didn’t know how to take him acting as if nothing had happened, everything leading up to him leaving. For the moment, I tried not to think too hard on it. He’s been evasive ever since he got back, like he’s avoiding me or uncomfortable being around me now. Guilt hit me anew, but maybe this was for the best.

Yet again, I felt like this was all my fault, like I was ruining yet another being’s life, but what's new?

“Is it safe for human use? I mean, do you think it’s safe if I were to use it?” I couldn’t contain the hope in my voice as I leaned towards him expectantly.

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