Pounding on the door of Rina’s house, I wait impatiently for her to open the door. Or to yell at me. I’ll take either one, honestly.
The door swings open, and a red, blotchy face greets me.
I don’t think; I don’t consider what my actions broadcast. I just act. As I pull her to me, she sinks her head against my chest and wraps her arms around my middle. She isn’t crying anymore, thank God, and she’s gripping me like she’s afraid she’ll lose me if she lets go. I bury my face into her hair and smell that now familiar sawdust and citrus, and I’m instantly soothed.
I softly press a kiss to the crown of her head, and she steps back and wordlessly walks to her bedroom. I close up, kicking off my shoes next to hers, and follow her unspoken invitation. By the time I walk into thebedroom, Rina is just climbing under the covers, wearing an oversized sleep shirt and boy shorts.
I look around and see a chair in the corner of her room with a throw blanket on it. Quickly grabbing it, I lay it on the bed next to her and proceed to take my pants off. As long as I’ve known her, she’s had a strict rule about outside clothes in the bed, but this isn’t a “get naked and fuck” type of situation. No, this is a “let me hold you on a night that was hard on both of us and then most likely pretend none of it happened tomorrow”. So, a throw blanket is the best I can do with what I have right now.
She’s facing away from me as I climb in next to her, wearing my T-shirt and boxer briefs. We both lie there, not moving an inch and not speaking. I’m wondering if this was even a good idea, if maybe I overstepped, but then I remember she let me in with no hesitation. The tension in my body leeches out of me as I shift toward her at the same time she turns to me. Her head lands on my chest as my arm wraps around her shoulder like a practiced dance.
“This is a one-time thing,” her whisper-voice breaks the silence. “It doesn’t change anything. You leave in the morning, and this never happens again.”
“Whatever you want, Emmerdeur,” I murmur into her hair.
I have no idea where we go from here, but I do know finally opening up to her about what happened all those years ago was the first step.
The first step in healing.
The first step in living.
The first step in getting my wife back.
Chapter 16
Rina
When I wake up, Arlo is gone. It’s as much a relief as it is crushingly disappointing. I know I told him it was a one-time thing, but damn if I wish it could be more, no matter how illogical that is.
I’m still not sure how to react to all the information he told me last night. Answers I’ve always craved suddenly don’t feel like closure. Instead, I just feel heartbroken that he went through so much with nobody by his side. I’m starting to regret the anger I’ve held onto for so many years.
I stretch out before slowly getting out of bed to start my day. I pull the blanket from the side Arlo slept on, and a smile blooms on my face.He remembered.I have a lot of quirks, none of which are particularly interesting, but the fact that he remembered something so mundane has my ice-cold heart thawing ever so slightly.
I toss it in the washing machine as an erratic pounding on my door starts.
I practically sprint to it and find it locked, which is not something I do. Sheriff Arlo would absolutely lock my damn door, though. He just can’t help himself, apparently.
I rip the door open to find Ainsley standing there with her fist up.
“Why the hell is your door locked?” She tilts her head.
“Must have blacked out.” I move aside to let her in.
“Did you forget?”
“Forget what?” I ask as I walk to the kitchen and start a big-ass pot of coffee.
“That we were supposed to go hang out at Sal’s and talk shit about what crazy new rumors have popped up this weekend?” She eyes me up and down, and I realize I’m still in my underwear and oversized shirt I slept in. It’s not like I care. We’ve had girls’ nights, but I’ve never actually forgotten a get-together with Ainsley before.
The asshole Arlo makes me lose my damn head.Damnit, I don’t even know if I can call him an asshole anymore. Not after what he’s been through.
“I’m sorry. I…” I am trying my very hardest to come up with an explanation that doesn’t involve the name Arlo. “I came back after family dinner and went to work. Lost track of time and slept through my alarm.”
She arches an eyebrow and crosses her arms. “You better go get some clothes on. I’ll pour the coffee. I feel like we have a lot to talk about.” She turns without a word and grabs two coffee mugs from my cabinet.
Shit, I forget sometimes that I can’t bullshit Ainsley like I can everyone else. I kind of forced my friendship on her when she came back to town, and while she’s my best friend, I have undeniably kept a lot of secrets from her. I spin around on my heel and book it to my bedroom, shutting the door behind me and taking a deep breath.
If I want to keep everything that’s happened recently with Arlo a secret, I need to be way more convincing than I just was. But I also think about the possibility of talking about everything.
