AllFreeNovel
Share Us
Imogen shakes her head. “No one would accuse you of being optimistic. I hope that doesn’t happen, but at least they’ll have had a sweet, holiday wedding.”
My thoughts freeze, and I can’t think of a suitable reply. Does she agree that the marriage will end in a year? She hasn’t even met the happy couple yet.
Turning fully towards me, she says, “You shouldn’t worry so much. It’s hard to predict what will work and what won’t. But in the meantime, you’re giving them a heartfelt, romantic wedding. They are lucky to have you in their corner.”
Imogen makes me feel exposed. It’s as if she sees through my cultivated veneer. No one else calls me on it. Instead, they give me a wide berth and let me do what I do best: taking others into remote, unexplored areas and experiencing nature up close.
A cool sensation scatters across my shoulders. If I were out in nature, I’d be looking for an escape route. “I’m not worried.”
Her eyebrows draw together, and she steps closer and touches my upper arm. “I understand complicated family relationships and how to navigate unwanted social obligations. I’m here if you need me.”
I grip the back of a chair with one hand and will my rigid muscles to relax. It’s insane. I’m in a rented manor house with preparations being undertaken for an elaborate wedding. None of that should cause my adrenaline to spike or trip my innate sense of danger.
“You probably think I’m strange, wanting nothing to do with this contrived event.”
She offers me a small smile. “Believe it or not, most people feel stress around formal events. Everyone wants to belong or connect with their extended family. But when you bring everyone together, many of us feel judged or irrelevant.”
“Okay. I’ll bite. So, what is your advice?”
Lowering her voice, she says, “Remembering your worth and setting appropriate boundaries.”
“I know my worth. The trouble is that I have too much experience with neglect and physical harm to want to put myself in a position of weakness ever again.”
My jaw tightens painfully, and my heartbeat thrashes in my ears. I need to cut this conversation off. I have no interest in exploring this topic with her.
She nods but doesn’t look concerned. “Your father is dead, right? So, the physical harm aspect is not relevant today or during this event. It feels as if danger lurks around the corner because our nervous systems remember past experiences. But it is not true. And in terms of the neglect, you get to do it differently. You can choose not to neglect your family, even though you felt neglected by them. That’s powerful. You’re changing the dynamic by showing up and caring about them.”
Gazing into her eyes, I realize she has a rare wholesomeness about her. There is nothing to gain from this conversation, but she somehow sees my struggle and wants to extend kindness. I don’t deserve it. I live the life I want to live.
Imogen turns away from me. “I apologize if I’ve overstepped. I’m not trying to psychoanalyze you. I want you to know that you’re not alone and others grapple with the same issues.”
I take a deep breath and my nervous system begins to calm down. It’s insane that triggered emotions are so powerful. I need to pull myself together. Maybe not for Imogen; she can handle an overflow of emotions. But for me. My emotions need to be in check so they don’t spill over to the gathering this weekend.
She crosses off a few tasks from her elaborate timeline.
“Are you done advising me?” I cringe at my need for her attention. At least my voice sounds strong and steady.
“No, I’m giving you a few moments to gather yourself.” She sounds distracted and distant.
A warmth slides over me. She isn’t going to ask probing questions or poke at my emotions. “I’m fine.”
She glances at me over her shoulder. “Are you? So, you’ll survive the love fest this weekend?”
“Yes, give me some tasks so I can keep busy.”
She places the marker on the table. Moistening her lips with her tongue, she says, “The weather forecast is unusually warm for December. So, I want you to set up an outside bonfire. I rented a fire pit, and there is plenty of firewood, but something more dramatic would be good. Could you gather large branches from the woods and create something memorable for the guests?”
“Sure. Anything else?”
She laughs. “Yes. Handle that, and I’ll give you the next task.”
I take another sip of coffee.
She points to the basement stairs and says, “I assigned you a bedroom on the lower level, away from everyone. It’s downstairs but has a full walkout onto the lower terrace.”
“Where will you be?”
“There are a few rooms on the third level meant for staff. I’ll sleep there.”
