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His problem is way bigger than I thought. I don't want to be involved with him anymore.
Confusion splays out across his face, but I don’t wait for a response. Instead, I give Maureen a grateful smile and spin on my heels.
By the time I make it back to the cabin, I’m shaking again. And a deep ache has settled into my bones.
I’m fumbling with the card when Adrian appears next to me and uses his own card to swipe the door open.
“I don’t need your help.” I step in and try to slam the door in his face. “I can take care of myself.”
“Danielle. What happened out there? Where did you go?”
I wheel around to face him, and I’m bristling now, some of the sadness replaced with red-hot fury. But I have to hold it back.
I don't even know what to say to him. Do I tell him that I know he has mental issues? I stare at him, “Are you pretending that you like me and you care?”
He runs a hand over his face, his wet shirt clinging to his form. “Danielle, of course I like you. I just had a few issues on my mind lately that have shifted my mind a bit. But I'm working on them.”
I hold a hand up. “I’m sure you're working on them. But I just don't have the patient for it. I don’t want to play games, Adrian. I thought you and I were on the same page, but we're not.”
Adrian shakes his head, sending droplets of water flying in every direction. “That’s not true. I don't know what this is about.”
I take a step back. “Of course you don't.”
From the day I laid eyes on him, he’s had me wrapped around his finger.
Adrian opens his mouth to protest, his face etched in sadness, but I push him back. He looks startled as he staggers back, allowing me to slam the door shut in his face.
I turn my back to the door and sink to my feet. I rest my head against my knees and listen to Adrian walking away. Eventually, I push myself up to my feet and head toward the bathroom.
In a daze, I strip out of my dirty clothes and get into the shower stall. The hot water mixes with my tears and swirls beneath my feet.
I have never been more tired or more confused and humiliated in my entire life.
As soon as the adrenaline wears off, I climb into bed and wrap my hair in a towel. For a while, I sit there, staring at an unmarked spot on the wall and turning everything over and over in my head.
Unfortunately, the more I think about it, the less it makes sense. So, I throw the covers off and in pace my room in my bathrobe.
Outside, it’s still raining, punctuated by the occasional clap of thunder.
There are heavy footsteps outside my door, so I freeze.
Then I hurry over to the curtain, and I see the back of Adrian’s head as he walks away. His clothes are clinging to his skin, and he looks defeated as he walks away with his head lowered.
Frowning, I open the door and find a tray of food and a bottle of wine. Angrily, I bring the tray inside and leave it on the counter.
I take out the corkscrew and open the bottle angrily. Then I pour myself a glass.
I take a long sip, and the liquid burns a path down my throat before settling in the pit of my stomach.
I take a few more sips and wait for the wine to work its way through my veins, but it isn’t enough.
Because I want it to erase Adrian altogether.
So much so that I’m tempted to pack up my things and book the first available flight out of here. I might be cut off from the outside world, but I’ll be damned if I let Adrian control what I do next.
When I sit down on the couch and tuck my legs underneath me, I feel a pleasant buzz. I alternate between taking sips of red wine and studying the screen in front of me.
Then I reach for the wallet tucked in between the couch cushions and stare at my credit card.
