Page 28 of Lightness In My Dark

I grabbed the bar, hoisted myself in the air, pulled up and then lowered down, continuing the reps. My abs tensed as I thought,she is out of reach. Maybe the reason I became obsessed about our situation was that I couldn’t have her, or she didn’t desire me. Instead of feigning disinterest, I cared what she wanted. I hated having thoughts about Wren when she wouldn’t give me the time of day.

After the pullup bar, I fixed the weights and sat at the leg extension machine. I lifted the weights, animated thoughts drifted in and out. My legs pumped faster with anger. This arrangement was strictly business. An arrangement, period. If Wren stuck to the contract, I shouldn’t have had any issues with her. I couldn’t stop the constant snaking of my nerves from knowing her aversion to me. I didn’t know how to handle it.Fuck!Propose, marry, become CEO, and divorce, all in that order. My hands gripped the handles tight, legs extended, held steady for a second, and released. Wren shouldn’t be in my fucking head.

Several reps later, I popped pills and stood by the wall of windows, wiping down my neck and face. The heaviness still lingered from when I started my workout.

How did I get here? Entertaining thoughts about a woman I have no interest in, yet disappointed she thinks the same about me. This is messed up! No problem here with getting women. The issue here is why I let these impressions take over. Who cares if she doesn’t like me? I don’t do feelings. So why is Wren agitating my moods? Irritating me awake, while stroking my dreams.

She needed persuading, a nudge, or maybe we both could use a reprieve. Neither of us relaxed around each other. Wound up so tight for different reasons. I would invite her to a binge eating movie day. I was okay with whatever movies she wanted.Sappy prick!My temper subsided, so I hurried to shower and search for Wren.

As usual, I found her reading in the window seat. She hadn’t seen me yet, so I leaned on the doorjamb, arms folded in front. When she assumed no one was around, Wren’s body softened into her surroundings, a quietness to her. She held a bookmark to her mouth, tousled strands of hair caressed her lashes, and her expression held a minuscule of a smile.

I pushed away from the door, which got her attention. Instead of asking me what I wanted, she shifted toward the window, dragged the blanket higher, and continued reading.

“I’ll be watching movies downstairs if you want to join me. There’s some food in the fridge Chef Dan left for us, and snacks.”

She said, “Okay,” without taking her attention away from her book.

I shook my head, then made my way downstairs to the fridge for a beer and to the living room. In quick succession, my thumb pressed the arrows to find a movie on Netflix. I needed to laugh, so I chose a Mel Brook’s movie,Blazing Saddles. Politically incorrect, I couldn’t pass it up. I drank my beer while my shoulders shook, cracking up at the lines. My amusement must have sparked Wren’s curiosity because she came down not long into the movie and sat in the chair. Bubbly sounds came from her when she found something funny.

The movie ended. “You hungry?” Her mouth quirked upwards as her head nodded. I returned her smile. She was adorable.

Stop, Finn! Who cares if she’s adorable?

I heard her steps behind me as I opened the fridge and pulled out the meals Chef Dan made. One label read ‘lasagna’. “Chef Dan, you are a kitchen God!” Wren stood a few feet away, looking at the other containers of salad, stir-fried rice with beef and broccoli. “What are you up for,piccola?”

Her face blushed as she said, “Well, you want lasagna, so we can have that.”

“You sure?” She assured me it was fine.

I turned the temperature to Chef Dan’s suggestion. While we waited for it to heat, I grabbed two beers, offered one to Wren, who took it. I put the other things away when Wren asked if I could keep the salad out.

Lasagna in the oven, we returned to watch another movie. “Your choice.”

“Huh?”

“You can choose the next movie.”

I stretched to give her the remote. She surveyed me, carefully accepting it. Tucked into the chair, Wren clicked through the genres. To my surprise, she choseThe Shawshank Redemption.

Her timid eyes met mine, and I said, “Awesome movie.”

We paused to eat, and continued to watch until I noticed the room darkened and Wren asleep in the chair. I carried her to her room, scanning her face, small breaths puffing out of her slightly opened mouth. Draped in innocence, an unexpected will to protect her sprang to life. I stared at her, not realizing her eyes had opened and her body stiffened. My throat swallowed the awkwardness, then I placed her on the bed, covering her with the blanket, all the while her eyes never left mine.

Downstairs, I cleaned the living room and kitchen. I had monkey brain. Non-stop thoughts of Wren, our situation, fucking… feelings. With ragged breathing, I gripped the end of the countertop and pushed off with a grunt. Confusion tackled my emotions and the pain in my leg flared up. I set off to find my oxycodone.

Chapter 11 – The Offerings

WREN

I hadn’t seen Finn since the Sunday movie marathon because I’d already been in bed by the time he came home. It helped me process his behavior. On Sunday, when I realized I was in Finn’s arms, eyes fixed on me, I freaked out, not knowing his intentions. In such a tender fashion, he had laid me on the bed and covered me. I didn’t take my eyes off him, even after he closed the door, which deprived me of sleep for hours. My head spiraled with scenarios, our day together, and his warm versus angry behavior. The primary emotion of being irate with me, but sometimes his kindness slipped through, melting some of my sadness and annoyance regarding him.

Thursday, I had brunch plans with some women I met at the dinner party, who extended an invite to me. They were on a charity committee and asked if I’d be interested. Always wanting to help others, yet never having the courage to research or take action, I took them up on the offer. Those on the committee seemed dedicated to the causes. It was an opportunity to get involved and be of use to the women. I opted to wear red, white, and black pinstriped slim-fitted pants, and a plain button up white blouse with some red heels.

Cole offered to drive me, but I declined. No reason for him to sit around for hours. We met at an old restaurant with wood paneling adorning the walls, crystal chandeliers brightening a darkened room, and long white tablecloths covering the tables. Expensive perfumes and cologne swirled through the atmosphere, with the chimes of clinking glasses and silverware. Lowered voices in conversation and the occasional laugh fractured the cultivated ambiance. Napkins hung over the wait staff’s forearms as I passed them with the host. All the women had arrived and were seated at the table.

Estelle greeted me first. “Wren, I’m so glad you came. Do you remember…” And she gestured to the other women. “Brigitte, Margaret, and Courtney?” Estelle was the oldest. Brigitte and Margaret, I guessed to be in their 60s and Courtney in her 20s.

“Yes, hello.” I took the seat next to Courtney, placing my napkin on my lap.

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