Page 57 of The Cabin

I wonder what Joanna would say about this inner monologue?

I flip the page in my book, having had to resort to one of my tamer, PG rated options. Smutty is too raw for me right now. (I heard it, don’t worry. Very self-aware.) I’m surprised I’m not totally natured out by now, but the peace and serenity it brings as I sit here and read still feels fresh.

The crunch of sticks makes my head snap up in the direction of sound. I narrow my eyes. Well, there goes my serenity.

Grayson stomps down the hill and splashes right through the water to stand in front of me.

“Oh my god, dude. Give it a rest. I just wanna sit here and read my book.” He grabs the book and chucks it behind him.

“What the fuck, Grayson!” At least it landed in the dirt and not in the creek.

“I am not somebody’s fucking husband,” he rumbles and I just stare at him like a deer in headlights.

“I am a human fucking being. I am an individual. When someone asks you, ‘Hey, who are you?’ do you say, ‘Oh hey, I’m an ex-wife!’?”

This is Angry Grayson. Not Hot Angry Grayson. Just Angry. And while I’m glad we anticipated the distinction, I’m heartbroken we had to meet this version of him.

“No! You don’t. I signed the goddamn papers, Sol. I fought with every atom in my body to get away from her. I sacrificed every single thing I had worked for to get away from her. I don’t give a shit that in a file somewhere there’s a document that states we got married.” He takes a break to breathe. His chest is rising and falling so viciously.

“Grayson, I–”

“You know, I thought you of all people would understand that.” He laughs. It’s not a fun, carefree laugh. It’s humorless and short and mad.

I absolutely should have understood that. I, of course, understand that.

“I know it was a big trigger for you. I get that. But I am not somebody’s husband. I’m the man who stood up for myself when it was dangerous to do so. I’m the man who came up here to pick up the broken pieces of my life and figure out what the hell I’m going to do now. And I’m the man who wanted to make sure you had a safe place to stay with the things you needed. The man who sees you. Who pays attention. Who notices. That’s who I am.”

Shit.

I can feel my heart throughout my entire body.

There are no words, there…I don’t…fuck.

He turns around and starts climbing back up the hill. I’m in a daze. I don’t have thoughts.

“Let’s go, Sol,” he calls over his shoulder. I can’t move. How am I supposed to move after that? I don’t deserve to move, I don’t deserve to follow him back to the cabin he welcomed me into.

He’s grumpy, I’m insecure around him, we know how to pick at each other and we know things about each other that no one else knows. Which gives us a lot of power to hurt each other if we wanted to. And that can be really scary and overwhelming. But no one can deny he’s been good to me. I’m gutted to admit he might’ve been right. Maybe I was projecting…

I take a lot out on him that isn’t his to carry. The absolute extremes my mind goes to around this man. If anyone is hot and cold…it might be me? Maybe it’s just both of us and we’re always at opposite sides of the scale…

“Sol. Let’s. Go.” He turns around. His glare has me springing into action, throwing my shoes back on and hurrying to catch up. He trudges forward, and I have to jog just to keep pace.

When we get back to the cabin, I’m thrown off when he keeps walking.

“Where are we–”

“Do not talk to me right now, Sol.”

This feels a little bit like he’s going to murder me, but feels a lotta bit like there are sparklers going off inside my chest.

We don’t walk far. We really only stop a few minutes from the cabin, but Grayson starts climbing over a rock outcropping and I try to keep my trepidation to myself. But, of course, because he’s Grayson, he turns around and offers me a hand, helping me through the rocks and leading me through a cave of some sort. I must be squeezing his hand pretty tightly as we travel through the dark because he starts rubbing his thumb over where our fingers are connected to comfort me. It’s working.

I don’t even know if he realizes he’s doing it.

A golden light comes into view and we spill out into a meadow covered in wildflowers. Has this been hidden here this whole time?

“What is this place?” I ask, forgetting his no talking rule completely.

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