CHAPTER TWENTY

Renn

Maven sleeps for hours, and I'm relieved that she allowed herself to calm her mind and get the rest she needs. I got the inclination that she probably hasn't slept well for a few days at least. The moment she opened the door, I knew it was bad. It wasn't only the fact that she appeared emotionally spent, it was her eyes that hit me hardest. They were dull and empty. Those stunning pools of blue, absent of the light usually shining in them; it was like she wasn't really there. It scared the hell out of me, and I wondered if she heard that fear loudly drumming through me when I held her in my arms. When I saw her standing there . . . it was enough for me to almost fall on my knees and beg her to let me in.

God, I'd missed her. I didn't realize how much until she stood before me. There was a moment I thought she was going to send me away, so the total relief I felt when she allowed me inside eased that pain in my chest profoundly. I knew it was bold to practically demand that she let me in, a bit intrusive, but I needed to be here for her, if only to ease my own wanting, and I don't care that it makes me selfish—not this time. I meant every word I said. If she told me to leave, I would have. It would have killed me to do it, but I would have done whatever she asked, even if my need for her—to keep her from harm—is perhaps the deepest desire of my battered heart. It terrifies me that she has this hold on me, and I feel ashamed that I gave her a piece of myself, only to push her away like I had these past weeks. It seems that no matter what I do, Maven is bound to get hurt, and I hate myself for it.

I hope when she wakes up, she will still be glad about her decision. Through the skylight above her bed,the sunlight is turning the sky orange as it rises. My guess is that it's around 5:00 a.m. I need to get home to check on Shy. She has a dog door to go outside when she needs to, but she'll need to eat soon. My arm has gone numb, not that I mind in the slightest, and I slide it gingerly from underneath her, hoping to not disturb her slumber. She unconsciously buries her head into her plush pillow, and I pull the soft sheets around her before I grab my boots, leaving the room. As stealthily as possible, I slip on my jacket and beanie, then ease my way down the driveway, trying to keep the sound of the tires on the gravel to a minimum.

I can see Shy peering out the loft window when I pull up to the house, her ears sticking straight up before she quickly disappears to meet me at the front door. Before the door is fully open, she's whining happily, jumping up to lick my face.

"I'm sorry, girl. I didn't forget about you."

She huffs at me.

"I swear!" I say, patting her on the head. She prances over to her food bowl, and I don't take a second longer than necessary to get her fed. She dramatically chomps down on her food, acting like she hasn't eaten for days. Very subtle. Point taken.

I pull out my phone to check my messages and remember that I haven't updated Tasha as I see her name pop up at the top of my screen.

Tasha: Did you talk to Maven? Is she okay? Let me know when you can.

The last message was from an hour ago.

Tasha: Hopefully no answer means you got a chance to talk to her. Please let me know.

Renn: Hey, Tash.Maven is okay. I'm sure she will want to talk to you soon. I'm heading back over there in a little bit, just came home to clean up and check on Shy since I stayed the night.

A reply from her immediately arrives.

Tasha:You stayed the night?

I chuckle, typing back a reply.

Renn: I'll let her explain. She was still asleep when I left.

Tasha: Okay, okay. And Renn, thank you. Seriously.

Renn: No thanks necessary.

Shy is still happily gobbling away at her food, so I go into the bathroom and splash some cold water on my face, hoping the brisk temperature will make me feel more awake. I brush my teeth and run a comb through my hair, deeming it good enough. I want to be there when she wakes up, so I encourage Shy to finish her food and then beckon her to follow me back outside. The brisk air is biting with the first sun rays of the day just about to appear. Still no sign of the promised storm. Maybe it passed over us. When I return to Maven's, I softly open the door to the cabin and pause, waiting to hear if she's up yet, but I hear nothing.

Shy casually makes herself at home by climbing onto the nearby couch and closing her eyes before I can object. I go to the bedroom, peeking inside to see Maven still soundly asleep. Shy's ears perk up as I walk over to the couch to sit beside her, and she lays her head in my lap while I scratch her ears. I check the time on my phone to find it's nearing 6:00 a.m. I hope Maven will sleep in late, so I try to close my eyes for a moment, but sleep never comes.

Eventually, curiosity gets the best of me, and I start to wander around the cabin to get a better look at the new pictures adorning the walls. It's not until I'm standing directly in front of it that I notice one picture in particular. I gaze fondly at the photo of Maven, Tasha, and myself at the Solitude Ridge lookout taken just a few weeks ago. The sweeping landscape behind us is almost as striking as it was in person, but just like before, my attention remains on Maven's face, full of warmth and sunshine as her arm is wrapped around my middle. Her blue eyes are still captivating from inside the frame, and it pains me that what was such a happy moment mere weeks ago had faded. Here I am, still unsure of what to do. I'm at the crossroads once again, needing to make a definitive choice: whether to let her in or let her go.

Before I can lose myself further in my worries, my stomach growls loudly. Shy hears it from her spot on the couch, ears perking up again. "I guess you weren't the only one who needed breakfast," I say. She blinks a few times before setting her head back down on her paws. I meander over to the kitchen to look for something to eat, feeling a bit weird for meddling around. Luckily, it appears the cabin is well stocked with food, something I'm sure Tova did before she left. I notice the empty sink, no dirty dishes in sight. She probably hasn't eaten much in the last few days on top of not sleeping.

I click my tongue. "What do you think, girl? Should I attempt cooking?" Shy cocks her head to the side, blinking a couple more times."Yeah, probably not the best idea." She jumps off the couch to sit beside me. "Of course, with your supervision, maybe I can make something edible." I kneel to rub her ears. "Let's start with coffee, and then we will see where that leads us." She places a paw on my leg as a token of support.

It's been some time since I've cooked a full meal for myself, let alone someone else. A couple of times a week, I heat up a frozen meal or two from Valery. Originally, I took them up to Grant if she wasn't able to, and then she started giving me my own, no doubt because she took notice of the things I purchased from the store and very lovingly thought I needed more variety. It's hard to get anything past that woman, but I'm grateful for it. Over the years, I've become comfortable enough with the food here. Once my food rations had run out, I had no choice but to acclimate my malnourished body to all the foreign aspects of this new, yet familiar world. It took months to gain the weight back, but eventually, I returned to feeling and looking like myself again.

It's strange that sometimes, when I stare in the mirror, I can still see myself in my uniform, adjusting the lapels of the jacket I would wear on special occasions. I used to take pride in that, but now, whenever I see my reflection, the man staring back at me is not the man of honor I had worked so hard to become. Now, this version of myself is a man of contradictions.

The greatest contradiction of all is the fact that I'm here, in Maven's kitchen, attempting to make her breakfast after spending the night holding her in my arms, asking her to trust me when I still don't know if I can ever tell her the full truth of who I was—who I still am.

You've already done things you say you never would,my own voice mocks me. It appears that all the things I promised I wouldn't do are slowly fading away the more I come to know every broken and beautiful piece of the woman sleeping in the next room.