The Girl and Her Ren

  My hips rocked against hers, seeking an answer, desperate to know it wasn’t too late as I burrowed my nose into her hair, inhaling her, kissing her, wanting to kiss her lips but unable to let go long enough to pull her face to mine.

  I was close to breaking.

  Emotionally, physically, sexually.

  My mind was full of heat and sin, a clawing hunger that had nothing to do with sex but everything to do with finally showing her how I felt about her—how tortured I was because of it.

  Holding her again, hugging her after years of miscommunication, bullshit, and dancing a dance we didn’t understand, I felt as if I’d returned home, and the one person who was home no longer knew me or invited me in.

  I was cast out into the cold, and my fingers dug harder into her skin as I shook my head against her rigidness, the coldness, the unbreakable ice she bristled with.

  Pressure tingled in my spine, goosebumps prickled my skin, and a heaviness that could only be described as regret filled my eyes.

  Tears distorted my vision for all the waste, all the mess we’d put each other through by not talking to one another. Not being brave enough to admit there was something more.

  There had always been something more.

  There had always been fate puppeteering our lives as if we were its own personal entertainment where survival fell away in favour of sex and two people who loved each other more than life itself were forced to break apart to stay bound by society’s rules.

  “Della.” I forced myself to unwrap my arms and step back. My body howled at the distance, but I couldn’t touch her when she didn’t want to be touched.

  “Please, Della…” I didn’t know what I asked for, but the brittle unhappiness on her face snapped into rage-filled indignation. “I’m sorry.”

  “Sorry?” She laughed once, shattering the shocked silence between us, deleting her tears, and choosing rage over disbelief. Instead of stepping into my arms like I needed her to, instead of kissing me as I was begging her to, she hefted the heavy pages of her manuscript and threw them at my face with all her might.

  They hit me square in the jaw, shredding my chin with paper cuts, sending me reeling backward as A4 snow fluttered to the floor.

  “What the—” I rubbed the impact zone, wincing in pain.

  “How dare you!” she seethed. “How dare you walk back in here and think you have any right to read what is mine? How dare you touch me after years of avoiding my hugs? How dare you, Ren! How fucking dare you!”

  Her fury roared in my ears, and I backed up as she hit my chest with fist after tiny fist. Tears streaked down her face, mixing with errant droplets from her shower. Her bare toes dug into the carpet, pushing her forward, giving her power to defeat me.

  “Get out!” Her cheeks turned red with hatred. “Get out. Get out!”

  “Della! Wait—” I tried to grab her wrists as she pummelled me, but I didn’t succeed. “Let me explain.” Every time I touched her, my fingers seared with need. Having her so close made my body crave and harden and do things I’d always forbidden it to do around her.

  It was a traitor, but then again, so was my goddamn heart.

  She continued hitting me, her hair flying in damp curls. “There’s nothing to explain. You left! You left me alone. You left me, Ren! I’ve cried myself to sleep, desperate to earn just one more hug from you, and now you’re somehow here and I want nothing to do with them! You have no right to hug me. No right to read something that was never yours to read. How could you? That wasn’t for you! That wasn’t for anyone. It’s not yours. It was never yours.”

  “Stop.” Finally, I managed to grab her furious fists, gulping against the heaven of touching her. “What was never mine?”

  Her eyes flashed, turquoise fire and navy brimstone. “All of it. None of it. It doesn’t matter. Just…get out! Go back to wherever you ran to. I don’t need you anymore. I can’t need you anymore. This is too hard as it is.” Her lips twisted into a grimace. “You’re making this impossible for m-me—” Her voice broke as a sob stole her breath.

  “Della. Fuck.” Tugging her closer, I lost the ability to talk.

  Words evaded me. Apologies and explanations and questions.

  Only my heart functioned, and that was full of newness.

  “You might not need me anymore, but I need you more than ever,” I whispered, holding tight as she struggled. “I’ve been so blind. So fucking blind.”

  She stilled, her sudden frozenness unnerving. “What did you say?”

  “I said I’m sorry. So unbelievably sorry.”

  “Ha!” She wriggled out of my grip, pushing me away. “I don’t want your apology. I don’t accept your apology. You leave after promising you never would, then come back at the worst possible time? No. Nuh uh. I won’t let you make me feel as if I’ve lost my mind. I won’t let you do this to me, do you hear me?!”

  “Do what? Come back because I can’t survive without you? Come back to tell you the truth that’s been fucking tearing me apart every day since I left—”

  “Stop it!” She clutched her hair. “This isn’t real. I’m imagining this. I’ve finally lost it, and you’re just a figment—”

  “I’m not. I’m real.” I grabbed her wrists, yanking her hands from her golden strands. “I’m here. You’re here. And I want to tell you that what I read in those pages…fuck, Della. Why didn’t you tell me?”

  Her gaze fell to the scattered paper by our feet. Her face twisted with another complex recipe of hate and horror. “God, you did read it. How much did you read? That wasn’t yours, Ren! None of it was. It was mine, and you’ve taken that just like you’ve taken everything else from me!”

  My heart imploded into a black hole, sucking everything into it until my insides hollowed out with grief. I’d not only hurt the woman I loved, I’d ruined her.

  Just like I ruined myself.

  “I didn’t mean to hurt you. I didn’t mean—”

  “But you did! You left.”

  “But I’m back now.”

  “Yes, and you read something that was private!”

  “But it’s us. You wrote about us. Me and you. If I’m not allowed to read it, then who is?”

  “Anyone but you!” She threw her hands toward the ceiling. “Literally anyone—” Her rage abandoned her with another rib-quaking sob. “God, why does this hurt so much?!” She stifled her sobs as fast as they appeared, but not before slicing my heart with their razor-sharp agony. “Just…go away.”

  “I’m not leaving.”

  “Well, I don’t want you here.”

  “Too bad.” I crossed my arms even though I trembled with every urge to sweep her off her feet, gather her close, and rock her on the bed. She was angry, yes, but beneath her anger was heart-shattering pain.

  Pain I’d caused.

  Pain I needed to repair.

  Wiping away wet tears, she narrowed her eyes. Her chest rose and fell with temper as she bit out, “What are you doing here anyway? Why now? Do you know how hard you’re making this for me? I thought I was going crazy when I came back here. Everything smells of you. My bed was made. The shower clean. I thought I’d lost it. But now…now it makes sense.” Her anger smoked into something new and condemning. “Wait. You were here before…weren’t you? Oh, God.” She froze, flinching with ice. “How long have you been back?”

  I squeezed the back of my neck. I wanted to discuss anything else but that. She hated me enough without giving her another reason.

  “Ren?” She stepped closer, bringing her fury until it gnawed into my flesh. “How long, Ren?”

  I swallowed hard before admitting, “A few weeks.”

  “Weeks!”

  “Maybe a couple of months.”

  “What?!” She spun around, her towel loosening around her fuming frame, teasing me with glimpses of skin as she snatched it tight and jerkily re-did the knot by her breasts.

  I gulped back a wash of insane hunger.

  This was dangerous.

>   Our fights always made me feel out of control, and this one was no different. Yet this time, my desire to rip off her towel and force her to understand what I was saying overshadowed my desire to stop arguing.

  What I’d been trying to say all along.

  If only she’d fucking listen!

  “I couldn’t leave you,” I snapped, my own temper building to match hers. I hated that she’d turned this moment into something violent instead of the homecoming I desperately needed. I hated that I’d hurt her so much she couldn’t forgive me like she usually would. And I hated that ravenous appetites did their best to unhinge me and make me forget that I might be ready to accept that I wanted her in so many indecent ways, but first and foremost, I was her friend, protector, and caregiver, and she had every right to hate me for doing exactly what I said I’d never do.

  “I abandoned you. I know that.” I stepped forward, chasing her as she paced the small bedroom. “And you have every right to hate me. But, Della, I need you to listen. I came back because I couldn’t stay away. I tried. I really did. I did my best to leave—to let you live your life without me ruining it even more—but each time I packed up my gear and hit the trail, I ended up doubling back until I found the same camp. I-I couldn’t go. I couldn’t stop what I feel for you.”

  If I expected a thawing in her temper at my inability to walk away, I was sorely disappointed.

  Her cheeks glowed with a brighter red, her chest pink and flushed. She faced me head-on, scorn painting her face like vicious makeup. “You couldn’t what? Go through with it? Turn your back on me? Your only family? Or you couldn’t leave the comforts of the city after having running water and a salary for so long? Because I sure as hell don’t think you came back for me!”

  “I did. I came—”

  “Don’t you dare lie to me, Ren. Not anymore. I’m done with lies.”

  “Good, because so am I!”

  “Fine!” she screamed. “So tell me what you came here to say and get lost!”

  My gaze tripped to the floor where I stood on a page with the bold words I’m in love with Ren Wild, and my body jerked with hypocrisy. My own rage unfurled to treacherous levels as I pointed at the damning letters. “You’re done with lies, huh? How do you explain this then? How do you explain every line you wrote and every confession you shared? You stand there judging me for leaving; you yell at me for daring to come back to tell you what I’ve wanted to tell you for years, and you pretend you have nothing to say in return.”

  I bent and snatched the paper, shaking it in her face. “How long, huh? How many years did you live with me, laugh with me, love me all while lying to my goddamn face? Was everything fake between us, Della? Was it?” I threw the paper at her, watching it flutter and float to its fallen friends on the floor. “I don’t know what’s real anymore. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know how to fix this. All I know is…you’re as much to blame for this as I am.”

  “How do you figure—” She huffed in disgust. “Are you saying I didn’t love you? That I pretended to care about you even though you’ve been the only person in my life since I was a baby?”

  “No—”

  “Are you saying that I lied to you when I was a kid and told you I loved you? That I made it up when I said I was happiest teaching you in the hayloft or that my heart didn’t splinter when I watched you with Cassie? What, Ren? What part of our life together am I lying about?”

  “I’m not saying—”

  “You are.” She planted hands on her hips, showing off the swell of her breasts and the tormenting shadow of her nipple so close to being revealed if the towel slipped just a little more. “Then again, maybe you’re saying that for seventeen years, I didn’t care about you? That you weren’t the most important person to me?” Her tears started anew, fresh and glittering. “That you weren’t my world, or that I didn’t need you, or that I didn’t miss you every damn night since you left? That I didn’t curse myself for everything I’d done, every mistake I made. That I didn’t wish I could turn back the clock and change so many things. That I didn’t beg for a chance to make it all better, to find a way to stop my heart from switching in its affection, to somehow seek a way to stop all the pain and—”

  Angry sobs interrupted her tirade, giving me time to grunt around my own agony, “I’m not saying any of that—”

  “Then what are you saying?”

  “I’m saying you lied about how you loved me! A-and I…I lied, too.”

  Silence plummeted us into frigid waters, causing the fire between us to smoke and billow.

  Her chest rose and fell as breathing bordered hyperventilation. We glowered at each other, truth bright and fragile and hesitant—almost as if disbelieving this was the moment we came clean.

  The moment.

  The moment we’d been running from for so fucking long.

  Our eyes locked, clutching hard with the knowledge that this time…this time, we weren’t shoving it under the rug, or pretending we hadn’t just confessed, or running from the truth that none of this meant anything other than teenage hormones and miscommunication.

  We were through with bullshit.

  And it hurt to understand we’d both been hiding for so long. Both forgotten how to be honest. Both missing in a sea of deception.

  Her eyes downcast, argument raging and fading while honesty made her hiccup just once. She glanced at the bold line I’d pointed at, the printed permanent reminder that I wasn’t making this up. That for years, I wasn’t picking up on signals that weren’t there. That I wasn’t going slowly insane.

  I’d been reading her truth. But I’d been too afraid to face mine.

  “Oh,” she finally whispered, shrugging sadly. “Yeah, that.”

  My heart fucking shattered.

  This time, I swooped toward her with more than just the need to touch her but with the desire to fix everything. To tell her she wasn’t alone. Not anymore.

  Grabbing her cheeks, I ran my thumbs over her cheekbones as I pushed her the final distance to the wall where her back pressed and her breath caught, and I lowered my head to nudge her nose with mine. “Yeah, that,” I murmured.

  My heart.

  Fuck, my heart.

  It cried at finally touching her in a way I’d wanted to do for so incredibly long. My body cursed for so many incidents where we could’ve solved this with conversation and not ran away.

  Her teeth chattered beneath my fingers as she shook as much as I did. We’d always shook when we fought. Always been so affected by the other’s temper that our worlds were in disarray until we stopped.

  The familiarity of such a thing. The realisation that this wasn’t just a girl I was in love with but the one person who’d been there every step of my existence made it hard to breathe.

  I sucked in air greedily, lungs useless, panting against so many things while doing my best to chase away my trembles even as my entire body went weak and wobbly for finally holding my Ribbon this way.

  The fallen papers crunched beneath my boot as I shifted my weight, leaning into her, seeking an answer. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

  She flinched, her eyes closing beneath an avalanche of pain.

  This hurt.

  Everything hurt.

  “Della…please.” My calloused thumbs caressed her silky-soft skin, catching on her young perfection with my older imperfection.

  Ten years separated us.

  Ten years was an eternity when she was a babe and I was a boy, but now…it no longer held such power. I refused to let it because I didn’t know what I’d do if I couldn’t touch her the way I was touching her now.

  She laughed quietly, full of torture and tragedy. “I did tell you. In a roundabout way.”

  “You didn’t.”

  “But I did.” She dared meet my eyes. “I never understood how I could touch you, hug you, kiss you, and you never knew. I didn’t know how I could hide my jealousy when you were with Cassie or later with your one-night stands. I lay awake at night
analysing every sentence I said to you, amazed that you never heard what I’d been shouting for longer than I could remember.”

  She pressed her face into my right hand, daring to donate a kiss on the edge of my work-worn palm even as her eyes flashed with resentment. “Is that what you came back to hear? To hurt me a little more? To force me to admit that I’ve been stupidly in love with you for years, and there was nothing I could do about it?” Her blue gaze burned. “Is it, Ren? Because fine, you got your wish. Whatever you read…it’s true. I started writing it for college, but then I realised you were right all along. I can never tell people our story because they won’t understand. To start with, I was more afraid of them seeking you out and putting you in prison for kidnapping, but now I’m more afraid that I’d be judged for falling in love with someone who raised me. I’m horrified of what they’d say, the looks they’d give, the disgust on their faces because, even though I understand it’s morally wrong, I can’t help how I feel.”

  She kicked a foot-trodden paper, her body wriggling against mine. “I’m sick of feeling like I have to hide. From you and everyone else. I’m sick of lying to David that one day I’ll get over you. I’m sick of watching you self-destruct by sleeping with a parade of women when I was there all along. Wanting you. Waiting for you. Begging you to just open your stupid eyes and see me—”

  My boot thudded heavily as I took the final step into her. My leg between her legs. My hips to her hips. My body against her body. My heart pounded as I cupped her cheeks harder, willing her to understand. “They’re open now. Believe me. I see you.” My fingertips burned as I forced myself to be gentle.

  She froze, inhaling quick. Her eyelids fell to that sultry stare I had no power against, and this time, I didn’t fight it. This time, my gaze latched onto her parted mouth, and I couldn’t do anything else. I collapsed against her, I breathed in her delicious, familiar scent, and I pressed my lips—

  She tore away, ripping her face from my hold and ducking beneath the cage of my arms.

  For a second, my brain couldn’t figure out what had just happened. That the kiss didn’t connect. But as I spun around to face her, my jeans tight with unrequited desire, and my mind a fucking mess, I gulped back pure agony as she shook her head, wrapping tight arms around herself as more tears cascaded down her cheeks. “I-I don’t know if you do. If you truly saw me, Ren, you’d understand that this—”