Page 87 of His White Moonlight
I made it to the street before I started to cry.Rather than taking a ride-share to buy some headphones like I intended, I walked to the park and sat down on a bench to watch the geese swim in the sun.
The wind dried my tears, and the fresh air helped lift my mood.When I felt like I could, I opened my text messages with Mom and re-read them.Passing me off to Bennett again and again hurt, obviously.But it had also nudged that little box of worries in the back of my mind that I’d thought I’d put away last night.
Why did they keep pushing me toward Bennett?If I were wanted, then it meant…
I let out a long, slow breath.
“Where are you, Wren?”I said softly.“You’re sitting on a bench.You’re in a park.Get out of your head.Ground yourself in the present.You can’t control whatmighthappen.You can only make choices now.Here.”
And my choices right now were simple ones.Stay in the park and soak up the peace a little longer, or head back and face the fallout from my anger?
I leaned back into the bench, closed my eyes, and tipped my face to the sun.
Avoidance as a coping mechanism wasn’t healthy.Avoidance to regroup and calm down wasn’t bad, though.Neither was avoidance as a way to stay safe.Mom’s hug was probably going to be bone-crushing when she got her hands on me.
When I opened my eyes, Bennett was squatting down in front of me, his expression a little lost and sad.The stark, red handprint that stood out on the side of his face stopped me from being angry that he’d followed me.Again.
“Who slapped you?”I asked.
“Mom.”
The answer shocked me.Mom didn’t slap.Ever.
“Why?”
“She knew you weren’t happy living and working with me.I told her I had it under control.Today proved that I didn’t.”
“Today had nothing to do with you,” I said.
He tilted his head at me.“Doesn’t it?”
I looked away, choosing to watch the geese swim freely in their pond rather than face his intense gaze.
“I haven’t been happy for a very long time, Bennett.It has nothing to do with you and everything to do with the lack of freedom in my life to make my own choices.It’s not your fault.I don’t blame Mom and Dad either.But I’m tired of doing what they want, Bennett.I want to do what I want.”
He moved fast, sitting next to me and hugging me before I knew what he was going to do.Although he’d been careful not to pin my arms, he was too close, cradling the back of my head as he dipped his to breathe in my scent from my neck.
Panic exploded inside of me, and I pushed at him.
“Get off me, Bennett.”
He released me and stood fluidly.My heartbeat thundered in my chest as I stared at him with wide eyes.Then, I looked at the hand he was holding out like he was offering me a hot poker.
He wanted me to touch him after that?Hell, no.
I stood without taking his hand.He tried to snatch my fingers, and I batted him away.
“I know you don’t need to hold someone’s hand,” he said, “but I do.I don’t want a matching handprint.”
“Then dodge.I’m not holding your hand.”
Speed walking away from him, I heard his soft chuckle.
Mom was waiting for us outside the building’s main doors.When she saw me, she burst into tears.Guilt speared through me, and I hurried to hug her.
“I’m sorry, Mom.What I said was purposely hurtful, and you didn’t deserve it.”
She held me tight until her tears slowed, then pulled back to look at me.
