We'd been friends. Or, at least, I thought we'd forged a friendship strong enough to withstand time, until he broke my heart.
But the man I befriended at the beginning wasn't the same one who brutally rejected me and broke my heart. I've been catching glimpses of the kind man I fell in love with since returning, but I’m not sure that I can trust him.
I hate him now.
But I saw that soft side again tonight in the graveyard, along with the protective man I wished he'd be for me and our son, and I'm just not sure how to feel anymore.
“We're going to play a game, Noah-kins,” I tell him as I set him on his feet and tend to push Tyler’s bed toward the window. “Hide and go seek. We're going to hide, and Tyler will come find us.”
Noah nods eagerly, oblivious to what’s going on outside, when he clutches my hand as soon as I lift the door leading to the bunker underneath the house.
It's dark and gloomy inside, but I'm careful as I lead Noah down the wooden staircase, lifting the door over our heads to close us inside. There's a latch on the underside that I use to secure the door, breathing a sigh of momentary relief while silently praying to the Moon Goddess that Tyler is able to take care of whatever it is that crossed our borders.
I can't shake off the feeling that it isn't coincidental, my intuition screaming at me that the thing that crossed the border is the very same thing that’s been after Noah and me.
I'm barely present when Noah speaks to me, only offering short answers to his questions about his grandparents, whose graves we visited tonight. My intuition is raging as if it's trying to tell me something, but I can't make out what it’s trying to say.
Eventually, Noah falls asleep on my lap by the time the siren stops weeping, and I've taken a seat on the staircase. I've got too much going on in my head and in my gut to care about the rest of the bunker, just relieved when I hear a gentle rap on the door above my head.
“Psst… It's me, Tyler…” he whispers, and again I'm reminded that he can't be that bad, after all. He didn't come storming in, and his voice is gentle once again, as if he doesn't want to frighten us.
Taking care not to wake Noah, I stand up and unlock the latch from inside, and Tyler lifts the door, revealing his relieved expression.
He stretches out his arms, offering to take a sleeping Noah, and he carefully lifts him out of my arms and secures him against his chest before offering a hand to help me out. He doesn't say a word as he immediately turns and takes Noah into the hallway, and follows quietly, watching as he tucks Noah into bed before coming back and gently closing the door behind him.
“I'm so glad you're safe,” Tyler whispers, then suddenly wraps his arms around me.
The warmth of his embrace startles me, and I gasp as my body tenses from the sensations rolling through my nerves, sensations I don't want to have. I can't deny how safe I feel, my eyes closing involuntarily to bask in the feeling of safety.
But as soon as I close my eyes, an image flashes behind my eyelids, shocking me. I gasp as I pull out from Tyler's arms, staring at him with wild disbelief, furrowing my brows.
I just saw my parents’ old cottage…
It happened the moment Tyler hugged me, as if he were the link to the language of my intuition I couldn't understand.
“What happened?” Tyler asks with a frown, and I shake my head.
“What happened out there?” I ask in turn, not wanting to talk about what just happened, what I saw, when I'm not even sure why I saw it.
What's worse is the undeniable pull hanging in the air between Tyler and me—a magnetizing pull that I want to escape.
“It was a rogue, but it's gone now. There's a meeting at the den now to warn everyone to stay vigilant.”
I nod thoughtfully, turning the corner toward the kitchen. “Is it safe to go outside again?”
“Y—yes. Why?” Tyler asks as he follows me to the back door.
“I need to do something…” I respond robotically, unsure what this other pull is—the one that leads me outside.
“Where are you going, Arianna?” Tyler asks from behind me, and I pause to turn around, my vision blurred with the image of the old cottage. “You need to be at the meeting. You're coming with me.”
“No,” is all I say before spinning around and bolting in the opposite direction toward the old cottage on the outskirts of town. Part of the reason for putting distance between us is my conflicting feelings, and if the threat has been dealt with, it's safe enough to go out there.
Another pang of longing grips me when I arrive at the old cottage, longing for those warm arms that felt safe. It'll make ita lot easier to hang onto my hatred for Tyler, which seems to be slipping through my fingers every time I see him bonding with my son.
Ourson…
A sliver of guilt passes through me like a shiver, and I suck in a breath through gritted teeth. I shouldn't be feeling guilty about not telling Tyler that Noah is his son. He doesn't deserve the truth. Not when he broke my heart right after we had sex.
