Page 54 of Duress
It’s not like I’ve shut him out completely since that day when I said goodbye to him and told him I needed to figure out who I am. We text back and forth a few times a week. It’s usually light conversation—mostly funny memes, interesting articles, general encouragement, or just quick hellos—but Dane is diligent about not letting the tether between us break. He doesn’t push for more; he just patiently waits for me to decide when I’m ready to take the next step.
We’ve even run into each other in the wild a couple of times. It was awkward at first, me not sure how to act after telling him I needed time, despite the metric fuckton of baggage between us, but that man never lets it be weird.He always has a genuine smile for me, even if there is a hint of longing in his eyes when he looks at me. Even if there is more than a hint of longing for him in my heart. He’ll ask me how I’m doing, listen intently when I talk, then gives me the briefest hug before saying goodbye.
One morning, when we bumped into each other at Brewed Awakening, he surprised me by telling me he saw the article in the Birch Falls Gazette about my new position as director of the Art Therapy program at Whispering Pines. The pride shining in his eyes was almost enough to break my resolve to keep him at arm’s length and let him back in. But that was only three months after everything went down, and I still had a boatload of therapy to go to.
I was in the middle of rebuilding my life, establishing new boundaries with my dad, exploring my deep-seated daddy issues and working through my trauma with my new therapist, Dr. Perkins, while figuring out my new role at Whispering Pines. Inviting Dane and the swirling vortex of emotions and lust he stirs within me back into my life was not a good idea at the time. It’s still not a good idea, but every day that passes leaving me feeling more firmly on my feet and more confident in who I am, makes me a little more inclined to throw caution to the wind.
As I follow Serena out of the building, she regales me with her afternoon filled with dealing with a crazy Karen who was convinced the neighbor’s landscaper was casing her house to rob her. “Heownsthe company, Ever. They have four locations in the surrounding area. The house he owns in twice the size of hers. He was just stopping by to pick up some piece of equipment left behind by someoneon his crew, and since this lady had never seen him before, she was convinced he was planning on breaking in to her house.”
“Let me guess. Was it Mrs. Greene?”
Serena raises a surprised eyebrow at me over the top of her car, as we prepare to head to the bistro.
“How’d you know?”
“She lived two houses down from us before we moved to McMansion hell, and she was innately distrustful of anyone born after the Vietnam War. She used to yell at Bryce when he would go jogging past her house. Come to think of it, she might have been on to something…”
Serena lets out a very unladylike snort at the dig at my husband. She has been my rock these past few months, having been where I was, processing the realization of being a survivor of abuse.
It was a tough pill to swallow as I confronted all the red flags and signs I ignored while married to Bryce. How deeply I buried my head in the sand so I could pretend everything was fine. When, during my third appointment with Dr. Perkins, she told me I was a victim too, not just an accomplice, and she listed out all the subtle ways Bryce manipulated, controlled, and managed my life to the point I was isolated in his orbit with no life of my own. My mouth fell open at that particular truth bomb, and it was like one of those movie montages where the puzzle is solved and the world is saved.
Our entire relationship flashed before my eyes, and suddenly the red flags were everywhere. I upped my appointments from weekly to bi-weekly so I could workthrough that mindfuck. Serena having been through a similar relationship before Kai has been a godsend in helping me process all of this. Her irreverent, dry sense of humor allows me the freedom to be as snide and mean as I need to be as I work through my anger at my dead husband. Laughing through the pain is a million times better than simmering in anger and falling into depression.
When we are seated at our table at The Wine Thief, glasses of Riesling in hand, a mischievous look comes over Serena’s face, erasing the annoyed tension that was there previously. “So when are you coming back to game night?”
Serena asks me this every couple of weeks. Outside of my therapist, she’s the only person who knows the truth about my relationship with Dane. She knows why I am keeping my distance from him, but that doesn’t stop her from tapping her foot impatiently, waiting for me to get my shit together so we can “get on with the inevitable”, in her words. When I told her the full story of our relationship and depth of my betrayal, she said there was no way we would go through that kind of hell and not wind up together. I’m not as confident as her about her ability to manifest a romance novel-level happy ever after. Real life doesn’t work like that.
My grasp on happiness is tenuous at best as I settle into the new version of my life, and I don’t know if I could handle realizing the gulf of secrecy and guilt between us is too far to overcome and I lose him completely. No, I have to have my feet planted more firmly on the side ofmentally stable,emotionally independentandhas fewer daddy issueslife before attempting to navigate that minefield of a relationship.I know happiness after surviving a situation like that is possible—I see it with Serena and Kai every day—but I also know how fragile that ground can be in the beginning. I can’t take that step until I know I am one hundred percent not still punishing myself for what Bryce did.
I bite my lower lip, thinking of everything I still need to accomplish. After settling Bryce’s estate, I gave the majority of it to Caroline, keeping only enough of the proceeds from the house sale to use as a down payment for a future home of my own and my art and studio equipment. If anyone should benefit from this entire fucked up situation, it should be Caroline. I’ve been house hunting recently, tiring of the commute from Ana’s guest house. There’s a cute little Craftsman with a “she-shed” that would make a perfect studio in the backyard that I have my eye on, two streets over from Serena. I don’t mention it though, not willing to jinx my plans.
Instead I shrug and say, “I’m not ready, yet.”
Serena just gives me an understanding smile at my response.
“Naomi brought one of her girlfriends to game night last week. She thought maybe Dane and Carmen would hit it off.”
My stomach clenches, and I flinch at the thought of Dane hitting it off with someone else. I take a long drink of wine to try and hide the jealous knee-jerk reaction, but Serena catches it with her keen eyes.
“Oh?” I try to keep the jealousy out of my voice.
Serena quirks an eyebrow, not missing it, however.
“She might as well have been an interesting house plantas far as Dane was concerned. When she asked him out at the end of the night, he managed to let her down so gently she still gave him a hug as she walked out the door.”
The grip I have on the wine glass relaxes. She watches me for a long moment, cataloging all of my micro expressions. This is what makes Serena so good at her job and why one day I know she’ll make detective.
“He’s still waiting for you. I think he’s always been waiting for you.” Serena’s reassuring words settle over me like a weighted blanket. Warm and comforting, settling my nerves, giving me the confidence to keep traveling the road I am on.
CHAPTER 50
DANE
Ipull up to Serena’s house, five minutes early for game night. I grab the six-pack of beer and bottle of Moscato I brought to share, but am nearly knocked down on the sidewalk by a very large, very furry, brown and white…muppet?
A horrified, familiar voice calls out, “Ulysses! No!”
Ulysses, the oversized teddy bear, pushes me against the side of my car, pinning me in place with his front paws while he assaults my face with his tongue. My hands are full of booze, and my only defense is to crane my neck back, trying to keep my face out of the danger zone. Ulysses is nearly as tall as I am, so he just licks my neck, which unfortunately for me, is the most action I’ve had in almost nine months.
