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Wow. Yeah.
“For the first time in her life, there was another human being whose well-being meant more to Wren than her own. She finally understood what her father might have felt when it came to her or what she might have felt for the child she never had. All she knew was that suddenly a stranger meant more to her than anything.” Wren sighed. “And he doesn’t even know it.” She paused to look at me. “The rest is unwritten.”
With that, she leaned back and let out an expansive breath, as if telling her story had taken a lot out of her.
“That was beautiful. Thank you for sharing all of that with me.”
She sat up straighter. “Thank you for listening.”
Even though I didn’t want to, I pulled my hand back. “The best is yet to come for you. I know it.”
“That really was my life in a nutshell. All of the important points.” She wiped her eyes. “God, I didn’t expect to get so emotional.”
“It’s understandable.”
We sat and enjoyed more wine for a while, and I ended up opening a second bottle. Emotions still bubbled in my chest as I tried to grasp and appreciate all she’d been through. There was a lot I hadn’t known about her—things that helped explain why she was such a strong person. I wanted to say something, but the words wouldn’t come.
“I have a problem,” she said.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m too buzzed to drive home.”
I chuckled. “I would never let you drive home like this. I’d drive you myself, but I’m not that far behind you. I’ll call you a ride.”
She shook her head. “You can’t.”
“Why not?”
“I’m…afraid of getting into cars with strangers. I don’t take cars or cabs for that reason.”
My body went rigid. “Did something happen to make you feel that way?”
“A driver once hit on me. And I realized I had no power while in his vehicle. That scared the crap out of me. I haven’t been able to forget it. So I choose not to get in anyone’s car alone—unless I know the person, of course. I realize that’s really odd, considering I’ll go into strangers’ houses. But something about being trapped in the car scares me.” She chewed on her bottom lip. “Do you find that strange?”
“No. It makes total sense.”
Her face flushed with embarrassment. “Would it be okay if I crashed here for the night?”
What am I supposed to say? “Of course.”
“Are you sure that’s okay?”
No, I’m not sure it will be okay at all. But I can’t say no. “You’re always welcome here. It’s not like I don’t have the space.”
“Thank you.” Wren breathed a sigh of relief.
“I’ll sleep in one of the guest rooms,” I told her. “You can have my room so you’ll have privacy. It’s the only room with an adjoining bathroom.”
“I can’t take your room, Dax.”
“I insist. It’s the least I can do after you got Rafe to speak today.”
“I didn’t do anything.”
“Yes, you did. You’re a light in his life, even if he doesn’t know who you are yet.”
“Well…I’m happy you feel that way.”
Since she wasn’t going anywhere, Wren and I put on a movie. It felt good to have someone to watch television with again. After Maren died, I’d stopped watching altogether; it always reminded me that she was no longer around to watch with me. It was one of the few things we’d enjoyed together toward the end—one of the few things that stopped our arguments. Why resolve a dispute when you can just drown it by bingeing an eight-episode documentary? She and I never got along better than when we were watching TV.
At nearly one in the morning, I took Wren up to my bedroom and gave her one of my T-shirts to sleep in. Then I ventured down to the kitchen and grabbed her a bottle of water and some Advil, in case she needed it in the morning. Rafe, who was sound asleep, had no clue she was spending the night. I’d have to explain why she was here in the morning.
When I went into the room where I’d be staying tonight, I noticed that the house felt different just because she was sleeping here. Different in a good way. Alive. I had to once again remind myself of the boundaries I’d set.
Wren
Waking up in Dax’s room was heaven. Not only was it the most comfortable bed I’d ever slept in, but everything smelled like him. Every inch of my body was sensitized.
Surprisingly, I didn’t have a headache like I typically did when I drank. Instead, I felt rested, comfortable, and safe.
I couldn’t believe I’d told him everything last night. I wasn’t ashamed of my pregnancy—I’d been young and naïve—but it was still something I’d only told a few people. Now Dax was one of them. I worried he might see me differently now, but I hadn’t gotten that impression from him.
