You would think Maren’s death would be a constant reminder of how life is short, but I’ve done nothing but bury myself deeper into work since she left us. And I know that’s because I don’t want to feel anything. I don’t want to have to feel the guilt over not having given Maren the love she deserved. I’d all but told her our marriage was a mistake in the weeks before she died. The signs were there, and she knew it. Maren deserved a man who was ready for that commitment. I’d taken a chance when I married her, and I failed miserably. I hope she knows how sorry I am for that. I wanted so desperately to love her the way she deserved to be loved. I will spend the rest of my life trying to make it up to her in the only way I know how, which is to look after Rafe and to try to be a better person for him.
But as Shannon always says, I can’t be anything for Rafe if I’m miserable. I know I need to work on my mental health. So, I guess writing in this journal is the first step in that direction.
I’ve spent so much time trying to feel nothing, but tonight that was impossible. Tonight I felt EVERYTHING.
I closed the journal and put it inside my drawer.
That was the first night in a year and a half that I truly slept.
• • •
In the weeks that passed after the massage, I kept flip-flopping about whether to contact Wren again. While sitting at my desk at work one afternoon, I went so far as to open the massage company’s scheduling portal. I finally gave in, only to find that there was no longer an option to request Wren as the massage therapist in the dropdown.
Perplexed, I picked up the phone and dialed their main number.
A woman answered. “Elite Massage. How can I help you?”
Fiddling with my pen, I said, “Yes, I tried to book an appointment online, and it wasn’t allowing me to select Wren McCallister for a massage. Can you help me with that?”
“I’m sorry. Wren is no longer working with us.”
What?
My fingers tightened around the pen. It took me a few seconds to respond. “She’s not…”
“Correct.”
“I know it’s none of my business, but can I ask what happened?”
“She decided to part ways with us.”
I gripped the pen harder, nearly breaking it in half. “Is she working anywhere else?”
“If she is, I’m not able to disclose that.”
“Oh, man,” I muttered.
“Is everything okay, sir?” the woman asked.
“Uh, yes.” I shook my head. “Thank you for the information.”
“I’ll be happy to book you an appointment with one of our other qualified massage therapists.”
“No, thank you.” I hung up before she could say anything else.
Pulling on my hair, I let out a long, frustrated breath.
Maybe this was a sign that contacting her was the wrong decision.
Maybe I’d dodged a bullet.
Wren
I almost never checked the messages I received through my RenCello account. Most of the time, they were special requests for songs I couldn’t accommodate or dirty messages from men. But for some reason, I clicked on the inbox one Tuesday night, just to be sure I wasn’t missing anything of importance, like a job opportunity. The last thing I expected to see was a message from Dax Moody. It had been sent a couple of weeks ago.
Hi Wren,
It’s Dax Moody. I’m sorry if contacting you on here is out of line. I wasn’t sure how else to reach you. When I went to book another appointment with you at Elite, I was surprised to learn that you’d left. I guess I’m writing just to make sure everything is okay. You left an impression on me, and I want to wish you well. I hope you got a better opportunity. I also wanted to let you know how much I enjoyed talking to you during our last appointment and to thank you again for the massage. That was the first night in forever that I slept without waking up a dozen times. I consider that magic and have you to thank for it. If you’re so inclined, drop me a note to let me know all is well with you.
Sincerely,
Dax Moody
P.S. I’ve been enjoying perusing the archives of this account. My favorite performance has to be “The Swan,” but there are so many good ones. You’re very talented.
I sat there in shock. I never thought I’d hear from him again. Leaving Elite had been unexpected. The day after I last saw Dax, I’d been contacted by another company in need of a massage therapist after one of their staffers left unexpectedly. One of my previous clients turned out to be the owner of this new company, and I had been unknowingly vetted for the position. The new company took a smaller cut of my earnings, so it was a no-brainer to take the job. As much as I liked Trina, I knew she wouldn’t budge on the financial arrangement from previous experience with others who had left Elite. So, I gave her my notice and took the other gig. Unfortunately, my second day on the job, things went sour. The new company sent me to the house of a man who harassed me. Apparently, he was a top client, and when I complained, the message I received was basically to “suck it up.” I quit that same day. I soon learned Trina wasn’t interested in hiring me back after my “betrayal,” so I was currently searching for another job.