“That’s the plan.” I offer her another smile then watch her as she looks around the apartment. I know she’s stalling because she would’ve got a good look at my accommodations the moment she stepped inside; its literally one room the size of a school bus, but it’s cozy and affordable, and that’s all I need.
“Your papa; he lives here too?”
I give her a nod. “Yes...well, not yet. He’s still in rehab for another few months, but then he’ll come here to live as well.”
She pinches her brow in question. “But so small.”
I let out a chuckle, not taking offense to her comment. I know it wasn’t meant to be unkind; it was an honest observation. “Yes, but once I’m better I’ll be busy with school and work, and my father will have a job downstairs, so it’s perfect for now. The couch pulls out into a bed.”
She nods in understanding. “Ah, I see, I see. Well, as long as it’s clean and warm, it’s good.”
“Absolutely.”
She stalls yet another moment, so this time I probe. “Connie, I know you didn’t come here to check out where I live, so what really brought you here today?”
She looks to me, her face now holding a pain much like mine. “He’s so strong in the day, but at night, when he thinks I don’t hear...he cries. He always cries, and it breaks my heart. I try to help him, but I’m not what he needs. Velyn, he needs you.”
A quivered breath escapes my lips. “I’ve tried to reach out to him, Connie.”
She stands from the chair and hands me a piece of paper with an address. “Try harder.”
Looking over the address, I then look up to her. “The cabin?”
“Yes, Dylan doesn’t want to keep it anymore. He’s there now, clearing it out to sell. Go to him, Velyn… please.”
I look again to the paper, and when I look back up, she’s already out the door shutting it softly behind her. I let out a breath—I’ll try, but I have a feeling that I’m the last person Dylan wants to see.
The last time I was here, the sun was shining lighting up the path to the cabin. But when I pull up tonight, it’s dark. Eerily dark. Is he even here?
“Are you sure you’re going to be okay here?” the driver questions as he pulls the cab further up the path.
“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Thank you.”
He pulls up and I pay and get out, making way up the porch steps and to the front door. I peek inside the window, but it’s dark. I’m starting to wonder if maybe Dylan isn’t here, and that I should’ve had the driver wait for me. Too late now, as I look over my shoulder, I see the driver is already halfway down the driveway. Turning back, I raise my hand to knock on the door, but when I rap lightly, it moves. I push it open a little more, tucking my head inside and calling out.
“Dylan?” There’s no answer. I look side to side up and down the wrap-around porch, then letting out a breath, I push the door fully open and step inside. Closing the door behind me, I call out again. “Dylan, are you here?”
Still no reply.
I look through, right to the back of the cabin, and see that the back doors open. Laying my bag on the island as I pass through the kitchen, I reach the door, and there he is sitting quietly on an old Adirondack chair. When I step outside, he doesn’t look but knows I’m here.
“What are you doing here, Velyn?”
I stand still, not moving in any closer. “I came to talk to you.”
“Then you’ve wasted your time.”
“Dylan, I’m not leaving here until you talk to me.”
He stands abruptly, turning to me and coming within inches. “Then you’re going to
be waiting a while.”
Storming past, he walks back into the house but doesn’t close the door behind him—it may be a stretch, but I’m taking that as a sign, so I follow him in.
He’s moving around the sitting area, working to build a fire. “I don’t care how long it takes Dylan we’re talking whether you think so or not.”
Running his hand through his hair, he looks to me. “Then make yourself comfortable, Velyn, because I have nothing to say to you.”
A couple of hours have passed, and he’s never once wavered. I would ask, and he would avoid. I was getting tired; it had been a long day, but I was determined to get him to open up.
I stand from my place on the couch, going to make my way to the kitchen for a glass of water, but part way, my legs start to give out. I reach for the side table, but before I can, Dylan’s already there grabbing me into his arms.
“Dammit, Velyn, you’re pushing too hard.” Cradled against his chest, he carries me to the couch, laying me down gently.
I lay back. “It’s been a busy day; I guess I’ve overdone it.”
Standing tall, he turns to walk away, but I grab his hand. “Dylan, please don’t keep shutting me out. I know you’re hurting...I am too. Please, let me in.”
He just looks at my hand, his thumb slowly rubbing my palm. When he finally does look at me, tears are brimming at his lids. He leans over, taking me once again into his arms and walks me up the stairs to the bedroom.
Laying me gently on the bed, he slowly moves over me; his eyes always connected with mine. “I need you, but I can’t talk...I'm sorry but I can’t.”
Keeping my focus on his, I slip my hand behind his neck and pull him in, closing the distance as our lips meet. It’s measured. Each move he makes, every touch of his
