"I can eat a burger and go swimming in a lake with you, Haven." His words soften in tone, almost like he's pleading for me to stop running in the direction I'm going.
"I know, but that isn't you, and it isn't fair for me to ask you to be someone you're not. No one should ever do that to another person. We have one life, and we should live it the way we want to live."
"Okay, enough with the poetic words. I get it. We're done. I'm not good enough...or lousy enough...for you, still not clear on that…but what now?"
Calmly and quietly, I stand up from the ground and pace across the room to my vanity where I remove my pearl earrings. "I'm going to sleep in the guest room until I find a place to live. I will return the jewelry and gifts you have given me, and I will seamlessly remove myself from your life almost as seamlessly as I became a part of it."
"Great, close the door on the way out," he says, throwing himself backward into the mess of pillows. I should have done this months ago when his personal guilt would have tamed his anger, but I was dumb enough to convince myself that pain was part of any normal relationship, and that true love and respect are never a given when being with a person.
I pull open a drawer and take out a pair of running shorts and a t-shirt, tucking them under my arm. After grabbing my hairbrush, a hair tie, and toothbrush, I silently walk out of the bedroom we have shared together for too long, and do as he asked by closing the door.
As I make myself comfortable on the guest bed, I try to remember what I found so attractive about Bennett three years ago. He's a good-looking man with an alluring smile, perfect blond hair that naturally sweeps to one side, and dimples that made me blush. His personality has been on the tighter side but not so much that people have a hard time chatting with him—some even refer to it as a pleasant bedside manner. He was sweet until sweet became the definition of a pushover. Whenever I'm angry and argumentative about something, I've wanted him to reciprocate rather than sit there with a therapist type of stare that tells me he's listening but doesn't quite understand. His calmness in stressful situations makes me crazy, but that's the surgeon in him.
Igaveup on sleep about two hours ago. There are too many consuming thoughts filling my head to allow for a minute of rest. I can hardly make out the time on the clock across the room, but there's a dimness spilling in through my window, which means the sun must be rising soon. I'm not sure I can stand to be here when Bennett wakes up, not after the way things ended last night.
I roll out of bed and open the closet doors, thankful for keeping an overflow of clothes in here. I slip on a light sundress and a sweater, both of which cost Bennett more than a grand each.I was never this girl.Silently, I tread from the guest room to the front door, grabbing the car keys on the way out.
While sliding into the car Bennett bought for me, I stare coldly at the house as I back down the driveway. I almost feel free, except for driving a car I don't own. After driving in circles without a destination in mind, I debate where I can hide out for a bit—a place no one will find or see me. I only know of one spot guaranteed to be secluded, and I haven't been there in years.
Pulling up to the edge of the woods, I park under some low hanging branches to conceal some of the car that would never belong on the outskirts of the neighborhood I'm in. I wonder if I'll be able to find my way to the dock again. If I remember correctly, it was kind of like a maze to find the place.
More than a half hour passes and I'm still searching for the drop-off that led to the old wooden dock.Dammit. Where the hell is that stupid path? I walk to the left, into some trees, looking for where the water opens up. I see I'm already alongside the halfway mark of the lake, but the dock is missing, or I'm looking in the wrong place. With one step down the steep hill, forgetting I'm wearing flats with a smooth sole, I quickly find out how perfect my shoes are for gliding.
I don't have much time to consider reaching for a tree stump or a thick branch since it's happening very quickly, so now I'm tumbling down this stupid hill, and I'm going to be lucky if I reach the bottom without a broken bone. Leaves are rustling around me and small sticks snap against my skin, stinging me everywhere. My heart hammers in my chest as I try to stop myself several times, but the carpet of smooth pine needles is too slippery and my speed continues to increase, throwing me several yards onto the pebble-covered ground.
The pain is immediate, but nothing more than bruises, I think—hope. I pull myself up, finding blood dripping down my left leg.Shit. It's official, I feel sorry for myself. This is the last thing I needed right now. Shit, shit, shit. Scanning my leg for the injury, I find a decent sized laceration on my thigh, one that will need stitches. However, I have no clue how I'm going to make it back up that damn hill.
I limp and stumble along the pebbles, walking in the direction I came from, only parallel to the higher elevation. After rounding a large boulder, the pebbles open into a straight path for as far as I can see.I don't remember pebbles being here.
I walk until the pain begins to throb, but now I need to sit down and take a rest. With a quick glance around for signs of a path, my gaze falls upon a dock, but it's not abutting the water. It only drops off onto the pebbles I'm currently sitting on. The water is at least fifteen feet away from the edge of the dock.The drought.We heard it would have side effects on our bodies of water, but this breaks my heart. The pebble-covered ground between the dock and the edge of the water is like an abyss separating my current existence from my past and my fond memories of those happy times I spent here with Raine.
I stand up once more, trudging along the few hundred yards until I reach the elevated, worn wooden planks and walk around the side, finding a short hill leading up to the old dock. At least the horizon still looks the same.
As I make my way to the edge where the dock drops off, I sit down and stretch my legs out in front of me, doing my best to ignore the pain searing through my leg. However, with a glance down at the wound, I find blood coating the side of my left leg all the way down to my ankle. When I see all the blood, I immediately feel a bit faint. "This is why you should carry a cell phone," Bennett would say. He hates that I often leave it at home. My argument has always been that if someone needs to reach me, we still live in a time where I can be found without much effort, especially in our small town. Except for last night at the motel, and right this second, of course.
Staring out into the water, I think I recall Bennett saying something about cold water cauterizing blood. It would at least clean me up well enough that I don't walk out of the woods looking like I was attacked by something. Since the sun is just rising and it's October, the water should be somewhat cold, hopefully cold enough to stop some of the blood. I slip my dress up and over my head, dropping it carelessly onto the wooden planks. After removing my shoes, I kick everything to the side and amble back down the tiny hill and into the,yes, freezing water. My heart pounds in my chest as the cold shocks me into stiffness.
I look down into the knee-level, clear water, watching my blood cloud around my leg. The feeling of faintness hits me again, and with the combination of the icy sensation encompassing the lower half of my body, I know I'm in trouble.
I attempt to wade back the six feet to the shore, but a force pulls me down harder than expected as everything goes black.
