His declaration made a flower bloom in my chest.
I’d felt so alone during the months before Boone’s rescue. The notion of all three of them actually caring whether I lived or died sped up my heart.
And made my guilt twist deeper. What was I giving them in return for all this care? Nothing but rejection.
But…Delusion. Delusion. Delusion,I reminded myself.It’s just their poly lifestyle delusion, making them think I’m meant to be their mate.
I gripped that reminder with a tight mental hand as I followed Ravik out of the house without any further exploration. They’d figure out I wasn’t worth all of this trouble soon enough.
In any case, they didn’t need to worry about me choosing a house that was too dilapidated or too big.
After nearly two hours of searching, I found a place that was just right.
I knew this would be my pick as soon as I stepped into the weathered and moss-covered A-frame cabin that didn’t quite match the rest of the houses surrounding it.
Dense trees flanked it on both sides. It was much smaller than the other homes I’d toured, all of which possessed at least two bedrooms. This cabin featured a tiny kitchenette tucked under a loft space that held a single mattress. King-sized, but not gigantic like the one I’d woken up in this morning.
Best of all, the entire back wall of the house was taken up by windows that looked onto a huge lake sparkling under the afternoon sun.
As weird as I still felt about accepting their generosity when I knew I’d never be able to offer them anything in return, myexcitement made me shout, “This is the one!” as soon as I came down from the loft ladder.
Thank goodness I’d been climbing up and down ladders at the Minnesota Black Heritage Museum for the last five years. I had no problems with my knees or my balance as I came off the last step.
Boone and Ravik didn’t look nearly as thrilled about me having finally made a choice after nearly two hours of looking.
I found them at ground level, exchanging a troubled look.
“What?” I scrunched up my nose. “Is that moss outside really something gross, like mold?”
“No, it’s just…” Boone rubbed the back of his thick neck. “Uh, this is what the Ayaska used to call a widow’s cottage.”
Ravik shifted uncomfortably beside him while Boone explained, “Basically, when all three of a female’s mates died, the widow used to come down here to one of these cottages to, well… die, too.”
I scanned the A-frame house with new eyes. One two-seater sofa and a saggy armchair, both upholstered in fading, cracked leather. A rocking chair and a single set of dresser drawers, on top of which sat an even older console TV than the Sharp/VCR combo at the large four-bedroom cabin I’d come here from. One sturdy and squat wood stove instead of a hearth with a roaring fire. So little furniture, yet just enough to live comfortably.
It was freezing right now, but I imagined the tiny house could be heated by the wood stove. A few hours of scrubbing and dusting, and it would be clean and cozy. I could already see myself curledup on the couch until it was time to literally climb into the loft bed.
“So, it’s meant for women who plan to spend the rest of their lives alone?”
Boone grimaced at my question. “You’re going to say it’s perfect, aren’t you?”
I mentally held his delusional hand as I answered, “Only because it is.”
17/
so many thank yous
BELL
After I made my official choice, Ravik gave my little A-frame cottage a once-over, displeasure clearly written across his face. Without another word, he strode past me, sliding open the back window door to walk out of the house.
He was obviously not happy with me. My ears heated, remembering how, in the early days of our marriage, Dennis used to walk out of rooms and sulk, giving me the silent treatment whenever I went against him—sometimes for days. Before he escalated to just belittling or hitting me into submission.
“C’mon, we’ll get your stuff,” Boone said in the wake of him leaving.
It didn’t take me long to repack the suitcase I’d barely opened. Though, I struggled with how to handle the Ravik situation as I rolled it out of the room.
Dennis had trained me to be hyperaware of his displeasure at all times. Or else.
