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That kind of pissed me off, if I’m honest. I hated that I needed heartbreak and being fired to find my path and hit rock bottom before I could produce something that made sense but could be successful. Then I thought about it. Isn’t this how most artists start out? Hitting rock bottom to do their best work? I sure hoped so because I didn’t know what I would do if this didn’t pan out. All I had ever wanted to be was a writer. I’ve always wanted to see my name embossed on the cover of a book, to have people read my words and immerse themselves in my thoughts. In my plot. In my brain. It sounded a little egotistical, but I thought I had something good to contribute to the literary world, and not just by helping other authors get what I wanted.
I was so lost in my thoughts that I almost missed my turnoff. Cass said it was set back from the road, but the driveway looked to be almost half a mile long. I looked around at the woods that separated me from the main road with wariness, trying to see if any wildlife could hide amongst the large trunks—small, harmless animals like raccoons or deer or larger ones like bears and wolves that could make a meal out of me. I was not a small man, but I also was not a stupid one. The trees were far enough apart that I could see no reason a crazy wild animal with sharp teeth that could end my existence would dare hide there or make it their home, so I relaxed a little.
I rounded the last bend and almost lost control of the car. The cabin was breathtaking. It had the typical rustic feel, but it was modern as well. There were floor-to-ceiling windows in the front downstairs portion of the house, with a large blue door surrounded by delicately decorated windows. From what I could see of the upstairs, there was a balcony out front that had lounge chairs and a fire pit set up. The stone chimney made me think of warm nights in the winter, sitting in front of a fireplace with a glass of wine. Maybe a man spooning me or maybe not. It was beautiful, and I was in love.
I was giddy as I pulled into the three-car garage. After the door came down, I raced to the door leading inside, not bothering to grab my luggage, and burst through it. I stood just inside, taking in my surroundings. I wandered around, trying to take everything in. The wide staircase led to a loft-style sitting room complete with armchairs in front of the second-story fireplace. I could see the floor-to-ceiling windows weren’t just a fixture at the front of the house—the back of the house was similarly structured. The kitchen and dining room were down the hall, off to the right. Walking through the large expanse of the foyer, I peeked in at the kitchen. The six-burner range and Sub-Zero refrigerator were to die for, and I knew I would find my little slice of heaven in there.
The living room had a huge sectional set in the middle of the floor, with a fluffy area rug in front of the fireplace. Maybe I could get a glass of wine and lie in front of the fireplace anyway. Yes, it was the middle of April, but the nights held a chill sometimes, so I could probably get away with it.
There were two bedrooms downstairs and a wine cellar. That would be one of my favorite rooms, second to the kitchen. The upstairs had two bedrooms as well, and I decided to take one up there. I loved the loft area and felt I could sit there and write if I wanted to get out of the room but not go downstairs. Plus, the view from these windows was spectacular.
I went back downstairs and plopped on the couch, taking everything in and not knowing how to feel. I was grateful that I had an escape and was able to leave the city and my bullshit behind, but I wouldn’t completely leave everything. I still had no job, no man, and a broke-as-fuck heart. I still had no home to go back to when I left the mountains. I knew I should pull myself out of this tailspin, but I figured I could give myself a bit of time to wallow in self-pity. Fuck. This was hard and would continue to be hard. I had my life mapped out in my head before my disastrous day fucked up my well-laid plans. I didn’t know how I would start over. People did it every day, yes, but I didn’t want to start over. I knew it would make me stronger in the long run, but I still had to go through it to get over it. I hated that I had to experience this.
After mentally beating myself up, I shook my head and tried to clear my thoughts. At that moment, I made a promise to myself. I would allow myself thirty minutes. Thirty minutes to agonize over my life and the bullshit that was thrown my way. Thirty minutes to cry about losing my future as I had known it. Thirty minutes to wonder what the fuck I thought I was doing trying to draft a book. Thirty minutes to feel sorry for myself. And that was it. I would reign it in if my mind drifted to that place, and I would heal. I had to.
A month before Cass came to visit wasn’t a long time to get over my world imploding, but dammit, I was going to try.I had to. What was the alternative? I looked at my watch and saw I had five more minutes in my allotted time, and I took it. I sat in silence, letting my mind go over the bullshit, and when my time ended, I pushed the thoughts away. I knew it wasn’t going to be easy to do that every time, but I was going to try.
I went out to grab my luggage, eager to get my writing supplies and start putting the outline that was in my head on paper. When I was getting one of my suitcases out of the trunk, my phone rang. I figured it was Cass checking to see if I made it okay, but when I pulled my phone from my pocket, Devin’s name lit up my screen. I really needed to block him. Rolling my eyes and against my better judgment, I answered.
“Baby,” he said, not waiting for me to say hello and his voice full of desperation. “I’m so sorry. I know I fucked up. Please, can you come home? I’m so fucking lost without you being here. If I could take it all back, I would.”
“Devin, please. You should have thought about that before you fucked around on me. How many were there? And don’t fucking lie to me. How many men did you cheat on me with?”
He was silent, but I knew he didn’t hang up because I heard him breathing on the other end. I didn’t expect him to answer, and I opened my mouth to tell him I didn’t have time for his shit when he answered and ripped my fucking heart out.
“Five.”
I squeezed my eyes shut and turned around to sit on the open trunk. Five other men. Five. My voice cracked when I whispered, “Devin, how could you?”
“I don’t know what to say. I always do this. I always self-sabotage and fuck everything up. You’re too good for me, and I felt like you were going to leave me when you realized how much of a fuck-up I am. I—”
“Oh no. You don’t get to do that. You don’t get to be the victim. You cheated, Devin. Stuck your dick in other men with no regard for me or our relationship. How you managed to fuck five men in six months without me knowing is beyond me, but—”
He said something, barely audible, but I heard it nonetheless. It made my breath hitch and my heart stutter. “What did you say?”
He sighed heavily into the phone and repeated himself. “I said it was over the whole relationship. I want to be honest with you. I want a second chance, and I figured we’d start with honesty, right?”
“Right? Right! Not right, Devin! The time for honesty was at the beginning of our relationship, with you telling me about your inability to keep your dick in your pants. Honesty should have started after the first man you cheated with. Honesty should have been at the forefront of our relationship, not when you were caught. Did you at least respect me enough to use protection?”
“Yes, baby. Every time,” he rushed to say.
“I guess that’s something.” Even though I didn’t want to remember the day I caught him cheating, I did recall seeing a condom hanging from his deflated dick as he was sitting on the edge of the bed. I rubbed the back of my neck, suddenly exhausted. So much for my thirty-minute pity party. “Devin, don’t call me anymore. I’m serious. I am blocking your number. I don’t want to hear anything else from you.”
I ended the call, dropped my head in my hands, and cried. Devin and I never had unprotected sex, even though we were both tested every three months. I had gotten tested the day after catching Devin, and I would receive my results in about seventy-two hours. None of my other tests were abnormal throughout our relationship, so either he was telling the truth about using protection, or he got extremely lucky. Five men. God, I couldn’t handle hearing that. When I thought I had found the perfect man, he was a wolf in sheep’s clothing the entire time. How could my judgment have been so fucked up?
When my sobs turned into hiccups and I was able to get myself under control, I called Cass. I told her about the whole conversation, and she was not pleased. I remember her saying something about cutting his dick off with a rusty spoon, which made me laugh and cringe equally. It didn’t take away all of the pain, but it helped cheer me up. I told her I had made it to the cabin and was planning on having a few bottles of wine to help me get through the disastrous news Devin had laid in my lap.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow, I would start giving myself a thirty-minute pity party. Tonight, I was going to get drunk.
Getting drunk was a terrible idea. The morning after I got to the cabin, I woke up hungover and feeling like shit. I threw myself an epic pity party the night before and ended up downing three bottles of wine, singing sad love songs, and crying off and on. I wasn’t usually this emotional, but it was my first heartbreak. I was allowed to feel my feelings.
After that night, I vowed to drink no more than a glass of wine with dinner. I also decided to go running a few times a week. Running always helped me clear my mind, and after my initial trepidation about running along the driveway, I came to enjoy running this high in the mountains. The air was crisp and clear, smelling like pine needles and everything green in nature.
While on my runs, I was able to flesh out my outline more. And it might sound biased, but I was really excited about the path of this book. I felt like it would be a hit. The plot and characters were the easiest to finish. I just had to fit my words around that, and I would be golden. The problem was I knew jack shit about crime. I knew generic things, but not about the world of murderers and assassins and espionage. Research only gave me so much. I wanted a firsthand account. I thought about calling Cass to ask her if she could put me in touch with her brother, but that was stupid. He didn’t know me from a can of paint, and I was sure cops weren’t allowed to tell stories about cases they’d been on. It was a good thought, though. Guess I had to stick to true crime documentaries and newspaper clippings until I had a better option.
On my third day at the cabin, I took a morning run. It was a brisk morning, and I enjoyed how the cool air fanned against my skin. I had been running every day, at different times and taking different routes. I wanted to get the full experience in this area, and I was not disappointed. The woods were alive with animal noises and the feel of nature. And I loved it. It wasn’t secluded by any means, but it was far enough away from the big city that I felt like I was in another world. The views were breathtaking.
On the route I took today, I came up on a lake. I was about three miles into my run when I decided to stop and enjoy just being. It was relaxing. There wasn’t much of a breeze, but the sound of the small waves calmed me. Standing on the shore, I took a deep breath and felt something unfurl from my chest—tension. I had been a ball of knots since I got here, but for some reason this lake calmed me. It gave me a sense of hope that everything would be okay—I could get over what happened and come out better because of it.
