Page 49 of Stoker's Serenity

“I don’t either,” I said, and the overwhelming feeling of it all threatened to crush me.

“I just want you to be happy, Ren.”

“I know.”

I didn’t get my alone-time, time to process, time to think… Maybe it was for the best, maybe not, I don’t know.

All I knew was that I loved Linny dearly, she was my only friend, but that didn’t mean I didn’t sometimes need a break. I knew my filters for life experiences were broken and I had to work twice as hard at deciphering a person’s intent as a result. I knew that Linny hadn’t meant things the way I was taking them:You’re such a basket case, a doormat, a boring loser, and I’m sick of your broken.

I understood it if that was the case. I understood it all too well. I wished I was normal. That I could just exist like everyone else. It seemed like they had it so easy moving through life without this extraordinary cross to bear… this weight of sins I hadn’t even committed.

Talk about being crucified for the sins of your ex.My situation brought a whole new meaning to the common phrase.

“I want to be hopeful,” I finally told Linny, when we’d finally cleaned up and had liquored up even more, after hugging and crying it out.

She nodded and sniffed; both of us were lying in my bed, facing each other, talking more. She had to stay the night, which had been the plan to begin with. It always was when we planned a night of drinking.

“I mean, you can’t be the end all of be all’s when it comes to being my friend, it’s not fair to you.”

“Have you ever heard me complain about it?” she demanded.

“No,” I answered. “But I know it has to be hard.”

“Not as hard as being you on a daily,” she said, with an awkward smile.

I nodded and sniffed.

“Yeah, well…”

“At least the incidents are getting fewer and farther between,” she said, sounding hopeful.

“The fact they’re happening at all, still, after nine years, going on ten? That honestly just tells me that no matter how few, no matter how far between, they won’t ever stop. Not completely.”

“We can’t control what other people do, babe.” She tucked some of my hair that’d fallen into my face behind my ear. “We really only can do something about how we react to it.”

Well, wasn’t that some food for thought?I’d heard it all before, but for some reason, right here, right now, was the time that it really seemed to click. Probably because Stoker was in my life now, and I didn’t want to lose him. I didn’t want to give him any reason to be like ‘Fuck this shit’ and walk. I really liked him, and I wanted to be brave for once in my life and hold on to whatever it was that was budding between him and me.

I closed my eyes and breathed out, a stillness overtaking me with my moment of clarity and the decision made to work on myself in the very near future. It was going to be hard work, but I was hoping that I could try to fix some of myself. For me, but also for Linny and Stoker too. Maybe those were all the wrong reasons, but even if they were, the end result would still be better than staying the way I was now, alone and lonely, afraid all the time of what people said, of what they think of me.

I slept, but it wasn’t a good sleep. It was full of bad dreams and haunting memories.

16

Stoker…

“Stoker! What’s up, man?” Marlin reached a hand down. I braced my boot against the side of his boat and hoisted myself up onto the deck. We did the guy-hug thing, clapping each other on the back before I eased off with a gusty sigh.

“Was hoping I could talk to you.”

“Oh, yeah? Happen to be about that quality little brunette you found yourself?”

“One and the same.” I nodded, stuffing my hands into my jeans pockets.

“Pretty sure we’re gonna need a beer for this conversation, hold on a sec. Go ahead and have a seat.”

I took a seat on one of the deck chairs set back under the boat’s awning in the shade, while Marlin trotted across the back deck to one of the built-in coolers meant for the catch of the day. He opened it up and rooted around, almost shoulder-deep and extracted a can of beer. He reached in again, made a sound of disgust, discarded the can of soda he’d dredged up, and went back in for another beer, all while my teeth were on edge, dying to get out what I needed to get out.

Marlin bounded up and brought the two beers he’d retrieved out of the depths of the ice chest with him. He tossed me one and I held it out, cracking it open, the icy foam spilling over my fingers and pattering to the deck. I sucked some down as he dropped into the seat next to mine and asked, “So what’s up?”

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