Page 57 of Two Wrongs

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Wren

Talking over my darkest moment leaves me shaking. I feel like I’m on the verge of another breakdown. I never should have let those memories bubble back up. Even with my therapist we haven’t gone that deep into that night. There was still so much for me to face, and four months later, I’m still not ready.

My skin feels tight and stretched uncomfortably over my bones. That feeling of needing out, needing an escape climbs up my throat, and I find it hard to breathe. The urge to shut down and flee chokes me. I grab it, hoping I can ease the tightness, and take a full breath.

Griffin pries my fingers off. “Wren, baby girl, what’s happening?”

I can hear the fear in his voice, but it doesn’t touch how scared I am in this moment. No wonder people find being vulnerable so terrifying. I can’t say I’ve ever actually allowed myself to be this open before now.

My eyes finally land on him, but I can barely see him through the tears filling them. “Griffin, how do I make this stop? This pain and fear feels like it will never end.”

It feels cruel for me to lean on him after what I just told him. I hate that when he looks at me now he’s going to see me through the lens of my worst moment. It’s too much. My head is swimming, so I shift to my knees and use the bed to pull myself up. Watching Liam pull away from me, seeing myself as a burden through his eyes was tough, but if I see Griffin look at me the same way it will shatter me. I’ll be no more than that mirror, shards of glittering pieces.

“Where are you going?” he asks, panicked.

I freeze. Where am I going? A fresh new wave of anxiety washes over me. I don’t have anywhere to go. Bess is a new friend, and Audrey has pretty much abandoned me. My aunt Hattie would let me come stay with her, which might work if she didn’t live in Florida. We aren’t really close either, even though she did drop everything to come stay with me after my parents died.

Then it occurs to me, when Liam gets out of rehab, which will happen faster than I’m ready, I’ll have to move on. The plan was to stay in Harriston until I saved enough money and move to Centralia to attend Central Valley University. That would have taken months, not weeks, but I know there’s no way I can stay here and pretend there’s nothing between Griffin and I.

I might have fought my way out of that darkness, but it’s looming just on the edge and I don’t know if I can escape it a second time. Of course, I don’t tell him this. My mental health is my burden to carry. Making it his problem might make me feel better in the short term, but I’ve learned the hard way that I can’t rely on anyone except myself.

I might not know where I’m going, but I know I need to leave. Griffin was right, self preservation is instinctual. “I’ve got to go.”

My bag sits by the door of his bedroom. I move toward it, but before I can grab it, Griffin wraps his arms around my middle and lifts me off my feet.

“There’s no way in hell I’m going to let you walk out the door when you are so clearly agitated, especially after everything you’ve just told me,” he seethes between his teeth.

He drops me down on the bed, and I curl into a ball. “I need it to stop. All the hurt inside of me, I need it to quiet down for a little while.”

The bed dips down as he climbs up behind me. He tucks me tight against his chest. “I shouldn’t have pushed you to talk. You weren’t ready. This is my fault. I didn’t think about what bringing all of that up would carry with it. Tell me what I can do to help.”

Being in his arms helps, but I don’t think I can admit that. “There’s nothing you can do. I have to learn how to stand on my own, to get used to being alone. Soon I’m going to have to leave here and start over. I don’t have any family, I won’t have a husband, and—“ I bite my tongue so I won’t say the rest.

Griffin turns me in his arms, our legs tangle together, and he gently tucks my hair behind my ear. There’s so much tenderness in the way he looks at me right now. It’s hard to remember the asshole he was just a few weeks ago. It’s odd that this version of him shares space with the more dominant part of his personality, but I’m learning Griffin Hale is a lot more complicated than I ever gave him credit for.

But I don’t want his tenderness right now. What I’m feeling from him feels a lot like love, and it’s freaking me the fuck out. Those emotions are warm and make me feel like I’m home. That’s the last thing I need, because I’m not staying here.

“What else won’t you have, baby bird,” Griffin whispers.

“You,” I whisper back.

He rolls onto his back, and I feel the loss of his touch instantly. “I wish it didn’t have to be this way. That we could lock ourselves away and keep the world out. I promise you, when it is time for you to go, it will be to have a much better life than anything you can have here. You won’t miss me, not for long.”

A tear drips down onto my lips and I lick it off. “You can’t promise that. I’ve lost so many people in my life, and nothing is ever better. I don’t want to keep losing people.”

“What can I do?” he asks in a pleading tone.

“Make me forget. Make all the doubt and pain go away, even for a little while. I can’t breathe, Griff. And I feel like if I don’t make it stop I’m going to disappear into a dark void I can’t crawl out from.”

“I shouldn’t. This isn’t the best way to cope. At least not how I hope you’ll deal with these feelings in the future.”

My pride is gone, ego shredded, and I do the one thing I told myself I’d never do. Not after that night. I beg. “Please, just make me forget.”

He inhales deeply and reaches across me to the nightstand. “I can’t refuse you.”

In his hands is a length of silky looking black rope. He pulls it through one hand, and my stomach drops, but this time not in shame or fear. Anticipation floods my body, and I am humming with sudden, painful need. “Yes,” I sigh. This is exactly the distraction I need to shove all the bullshit in my head out.

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