She smiled wider, but her eyes narrowed like I’d taken her bait. She kicked back, facing the fire as she took a sip from her cup.
“Yeah, I love the pig roast. It does remind me just how incredibly single I am though,” she added. There was a lightness in her voice, like she was telling a joke, but I felt like I was being set up. “Seeing everyone all coupled up and all the kids running around.”
I didn’t have a response, and she knew it, because she turned her attention back to me with a raised brow.
“But you wouldn’t really know how that feels, I guess. You were married like, what, two months ago? And now here you are with Anderson.”
There it is.
I swallowed, wishing I had my beer to drink or anything to do to other than stare at her like she’d pinned me for the imposter I felt like in that moment.
“You two are really cute together,” she continued, still smiling sweetly. She ran her long nails through her ponytail and let it swing free behind her. Then she paused, making a pouty face. “Aw, but you’re leaving soon, huh? Such a shame. Bet you’re going to miss him.”
“What are you doing, Sarah?”
Her smile dropped in an instant and she leaned in toward me, practically seething. “I’m giving you a fucking wake-up call, Fashion Barbie.”
I didn’t flinch on the outside, but I had nothing left to swallow, now. My mouth was dry, heart racing, exhaustion completely snapped away by her tone.
“What is it you think you’re doing, exactly?” she probed, her question like a finger poke to the chest. “I know you’re not dumb, so you must be a bitch, because you know just as well as I do, that boy is broken. And here you are, breaking his walls down just to leave him to pick up the rubble at the end of it all.”
“You don’t know anything about me.”
“Oh, I know plenty.” Sarah was fuming, all traces of her previous act completely gone. “You came out here to find yourself, and you found yourself, alright—right in-between the sheets with another man.”
“Fuck off,” I said, pushing from my seat. I’d had enough, but she wasn’t done yet. She grabbed me by the elbow and ripped me around, standing chest to chest with me now.
“Fine, you don’t want to be real with me about your own flaws, then at least be real about his. He’s never had a relationship, Wren. Ever. What do you want from him? What do you expect? I’m the closest thing he’s ever had to a girlfriend and our relationship didn’t go much past fucking and fighting.”
My heart was in my throat, sticky and thick and beating too hard. Anderson had told me about his past with Sarah, but hearing it from her hit me in a different way. I didn’t like it, not even a little bit.
“Well, we have more than that.”
“Yeah? And what happens when you leave?”
Both of us were breathing hard, noses nearly touching, and I jumped when Anderson touched the small of my back. He pulled me under his arm, eyes jetting to Sarah, to me, and back again.
“What’s going on?”
“Just talking about shoes,” Sarah answered flatly, and then she turned and walked away, ponytail swinging.
Anderson was just as tense as I was, and I noticed then that he hadn’t returned with beers. I peered over my shoulder and found Tucker staring at us, and he didn’t bother looking away when my eyes caught his own. Anderson followed my gaze and his brows furrowed deeper.
“Come on,” he said, still holding me under his arm.
We didn’t say a word as he walked me back to my cabin, but he held me tight, as if he was trying to keep me in the moment with him when my mind was so desperate to run away. Still, I could see his own wheels spinning.
“Did Tucker say something to you?” I finally asked when we reached my drive. I stopped us at the edge of it, pressing my hands into Anderson’s chest and keeping my eyes there, too.
“Nothing that mattered.”
I nodded, letting him lie to me. I would have lied, too, if he’d asked about Sarah.
“You should get some sleep,” he said, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear and leaning down to kiss my forehead. He kept his lips there, and I felt him reaching for me, but I was just an inch too far away.
A part of me wanted to ask him to stay, but I couldn’t—not tonight. I needed to be alone. I had too much to think about and I knew I wouldn’t let any of it in if he was in my bed.
He was the sweetest distraction, the best kind of numb because I wasn’t numb at all when I was in his arms. I was on fire.
“Goodnight,” I finally whispered, my hands twisting in his t-shirt before they let him go. I didn’t look back, didn’t stop to take my clothes off, and as soon as my body fell to the bed, I closed my eyes and gave in to the exhaustion I’d been fighting all day.
That night, I dreamed of Anderson.
He was standing on the bank of the river, right behind his cabin, and I was balancing on a rock in the middle of the stream. He was yelling something, but I couldn’t make it out, not over the rush of the water.
I couldn’t get to him, the current was too strong, I knew it was dangerous to even try. But the longer he called to me, the more desperate we both became.
He was waving his arms and I was looking around, trying to find a path, a safe step—anything. It was too much to bear, I had to hold him, I had to hear him, and so I stepped off the rock.
As soon as my foot hit the water, I heard what he’d been saying.
Stay.
And then the river took me under.
BESMIRCH
bih-SMERCH
Verb
To cause harm or damage to : sully, soil
I woke the next morning feeling restless.
My dreams had kept me tossing and turning for most of the night, and though I’d been awake for hours and was desperate to get out of bed, I hadn’t found the energy yet. It was almost noon, but nothing sounded worth getting out of bed for—not even coffee, mostly because it was too hot. I didn’t want to sketch, didn’t want to talk, didn’t want to clean or go for a hike or anything.
Kicking the covers off in frustration, I finally rolled myself up and off the bed, running a hand over Rev’s head as I passed. He’d been lazy all morning with me, and though I was up, he seemed to have no intention of following.
I stopped at my reflection in the mirror above the dresser, my hair piled in a messy ponytail on top of my head, eyes underlined with dark skin, a thin sheen of sweat on my chest and neck. It was hot enough now to wish I had air conditioning, and when I moved to the sliding glass doors leading out to the bedroom balcony, I realized I did—in a way.
“What do you think, Rev,” I asked, stepping out on the balcony to let the soft breeze cool me, even if it was just marginally. “Want to ride on a tube with me and float down the river?”