Page 60 of Wren's Winter

Beyond hope, I tried to make my voice as even as possible, trying not to betray the churn of sadness boiling up inside me. “You know, I thought what we had between us was special, that these days together were happy.”

“I’m not here to make you happy,” he snapped. “And I don’t need you to make me happy.”

The words were like a slap. I reared back with the force of them.

I don’t need you.

Don’t need you.

“Oh. Of course.” Buck’s words from earlier echoed in my head. How could my asshole ex see something that I couldn’t? He was right. Adrian didn’t really want me. I was just another tourist fling, like the rest of them. Wrapping my arms right against my chest, I willed myself to keep the tears at bay until I could turn and walk away. “Right. You’re right. We barely know each other. Sorry if I was too much.”

With the ball of my foot, I turned away, stalking down the now well-known path between the houses. I could hear Adrian calling out for me to hold on, to wait, to let him explain. But I wasn’t going to stand there and listen to whatever chivalrous explanation he was trying to make. He might have wanted to soften the blow of his words now, but the message was clear.

Over my shoulder, I shouted, “This Wren hopes you lose all your cattle and get hit by lightning!”

I could hear the footsteps behind me, but I kept walking, stomping through the front door of the cabin and closing the door behind me. As I locked the deadbolt, I stared through the window to see Adrian standing at the halfway point between the cabins. His hands pushed into the pockets of his coat and a pained expression on his face.

Good, I hoped it hurt to reject me.

A low, vindictive space opened inside me. As I set the alarm, my eyes trained on him. After a minute, he shook his head at me, turning on his heels and retreating into his warm home.

Adrian

The Horse and Trails was empty as I walked in. The TV was on in the corner, warning of a snowstorm that was forecast for the next few hours. Behind the bar, Jordan was wiping her phone, texting someone. Jordan put a finger up to tell me to wait as I settled onto the stool at the bar. A few seats down, someone left a half-empty glass of brown liquor with a coaster on top.

“Sorry, I was texting the wife to let her know I’ll be closing up early at ten and to pick up batteries.”

“Tell Janey I said hi.”

She slid the phone back into her back pocket. “Will do. Now, what’ll it be?” she asked.

What I wanted was the winter ale I had with Wren the first time we came here together, but I couldn’t imagine drinking that now. “Double bourbon. Straight up.”

She raised a brow but didn’t argue, pouring my drink and setting it down in front of me. The whiskey burned my throat as I downed the whole thing. Setting the glass back down, I motioned for her to refill the glass, and Jordan complied, her frown deepening. “That’s your last shot. I’m already dealing with one drunk asshole today. I don’t need two.”

Slamming the second shot down, I wiped my mouth. The fiery burn hurt as it warmed my chest. I welcomed the sensation, hoping it could numb the ache that was expanding inside my chest.

It was a mistake to come here. The moment I said those words, I wanted to take them back. Even if Wren was getting back together with Buck, even if I was some weekend-long fun, she didn’t deserve to be talked to that way. She was obviously trying to be kind in telling me she was back together with her ex. Always kind, always the warmth I craved.

No, I made the right choice. I saw them together. I saw the way he looked at her, the way she leaned into his embrace, the fit of her hand in his. Wren and I had a weekend together. They had years. I would never be able to compete with that. It would be foolish to try.

Jordan set a light beer down in front of me beside a glass of water. My fingers warm, my head getting fuzzy. Ordinarily, I wasn’t such a lightweight, but the four shots of whiskey were now taking effect.

To my left, a stool scraped loudly over the concrete floor as someone sat down at the bar. A quick glance had my pint of beer stopped halfway to my mouth. Wren’s possible ex was sitting two spots down from me, his hand gripping around a tumbler of brown liquid stopped mid-air as he stared at me. We were mirror images of each other, frozen.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, his words slurred. So, this was the drunk asshole Jordan mentioned.

“Same thing as you, Bucko,” I said, taking a large swig of my beer.

“It’s not bad enough that you have to steal my girl, but now you’ve come here to gloat?” He downed the rest of his whiskey and frowned into the empty glass. “I get left at some crap diner, miles from my car, all my calls go straight to voicemail, and there’s no taxis in the area until tomorrow, so I have to get a hotel room. And now, right when I have a good buzz on, the asshole who’s been fucking my girl comes and sits beside me.”

I filed all that information away. Wren had left him in town. I didn’t know the reasons, but it was sure to be a good one. The entire exchange I had with her at the cabin changed in my head. Maybe she wasn’t trying to let me down but tell me she was done with Buck. And I pushed her away, like an asshole. Worse than this drunk guy beside me.

“Three years, we were together. I ask for a little time apart, and what does she do? Run off to this shithole town and find some redneck to fuck her.”

On the other side of the bar, Jordan removed his empty glass and crossed her arm over her chest. “Knock it off, or you’re out of here.”

He waved his hand in a shooing motion. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll behave. Sorry.”

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