I switch gears like an Indy race car driver. “Evan, come sit down with me. We don’t have to talk about this now. We can play cards… or we can cuddle and talk about music and books.” None of my suggestions seem to be appealing to him, even though those are his favorite things to do. “We can fool around,” I add as a bonus, in a flirty voice, because that’s something he always wants to do.
“I need to walk.”
“Walk?” I repeat, glancing at my watch. “It’s eleven o’clock.”
“Don’t care. I just want to go for a walk.”
My nerves ignite with panic. This can’t be good. He’s turning down sex to walk aimlessly around town. What if he keeps walking?
“Do you want me to come with you?”
“No. I think I just need a few minutes alone.”
My heart and my hope pitches like a pile of rocks straight into my stomach.
“Oh. Okay.”
He reaches for the latch on the door but turns, his eyes softer. “You could stay here with Acorn. He’d like that. And I can see you when I get back.”
“Are you sure? Will I be safe here alone?”
“Hell yeah. Nobody ever comes down here. And there’s a hunting knife under the mattress.”
A knife?
I suppose the knife is hidden in the event he ever needs it for self-defense, but I wish I had known it was there. Random hidden weapons make me feel a little nervous.
He leaves for his walk without kissing me goodbye, which is unusual for him. Blue’s very physically affectionate with me. Whether it be sensual, erotic, or sweet, he’s usually touching me in some way, and he always kisses me hello and goodbye.
I take off my shoes, sit on the bed with my back against a pile of pillows—yes, I brought them all over here—and pull the thick comforter over me. Acorn immediately lies on my feet with his penguin. I’m tempted to just go home where it’s warm and take the dog with me, but I’m worried Blue will be even more upset than he already is if he comes back to find both of us gone. I’m not sure if upset is an accurate word to describe his current mood. Disturbed and anxious might be better descriptors. Cornered, even.
In hindsight, I wish I hadn’t brought up Christmas and the apartment because it completely wrecked our first real date night. If I had kept my mouth shut, we’d probably either be having wild sex right now or he’d be playing some new songs on his guitar for me, and I wouldn’t be sitting here freezing while he’s walking off a mood.
I wait.
And wait.
I move the space heater closer to the bed and get up and do jumping jacks to warm myself up, and then I crawl back under the blanket and coax Acorn to crawl under with me. We huddle together, keeping each other warm. I’m hyper aware of every noise outside—tree branches, the wind, an owl, the creaking of the old wooden shed walls. I’m petrified, but I’m even more scared to walk across the dark yard to get to my car in the street, so I hug Acorn and try to shut it all out.
I love Blue. I’m trying my best to accept him for who he is. I understand his wandering spirit. But I’m cold and confused and scared, and as much as I try to convince myself that I can love Blue for now and give him the freedom he seems to desperately need, I can’t deny that my heart has been hoping for more. The sad reality of us is that I’m hurting him by wanting more just as much as he’s hurting me by not being able to give more.
We’re stuck… and I have no idea where we’re supposed to go from here.
Chapter Eleven
I have a love-hate relationship with the holidays. Especially Christmas. I love the music, the movies, and the decorations. I love the sense of spirit, the coming together of friends and family. I love buying and wrapping gifts. What I hate is the stress and the greed and the rushing.
This year, I also particularly hate my older sister sitting on her fiancé’s lap next to the fireplace with her big-ass beacon of an engagement ring on her finger and a pile of presents next to her that’s taller than I am. All presents from him, wrapped up in telltale paper clearly from upscale stores like Tiffany and Nordstrom.
Yes, I’m a jealous, immature bitch for feeling this way, but that’s just where I am in my life right now—hating people who have what I want. And I don’t mean material things. I mean having that special person involved in every part of your life.
I finger the beaded bracelet Blue gave me a few weeks ago, which I haven’t taken off once and which has more value to me than any diamond tennis bracelet ever could. But he’s not here, and I wish he was.