Page 86 of Saving Ren
“I don’t want to go back. My brain’s just trying to process and catch up.”
His eyes dart over my entire face as he studies me, probably searching for the truth in my words.
“I’m doing okay, I promise. I’ve just had so many seeds of doubt planted over the past year, it’s probably going to take a while to harvest those crops and for my brain to be left fallow.”
“Good. I’ve no idea what you just said, but it sounds good.”
“Arable farming. It’s something I was taught in geography right before we left England. A fallow field is one the farmer harvests, then ploughs and leaves to rest for a year or two so it can recover. The analogy. . .”
“Is a pretty good one for so early on a Sunday morning.”
“Right? I think so too. No idea where I plucked it from, but maybe I should consider a career as a poet or creative writer if no one wants my interior design services?”
He screws up his face and gives his head a small shake.
“I’m thinking not. Just brush up on your interior design skills and put yourself back out there.”
“Fair enough, but right now, I need to put myself in the loo before I wet the bed.”
“You know a full bladder is supposed to make a woman’s orgasm much more intense? If you let me plough your field. . .”
“Seriously?My field has been thoroughly ploughed. Ploughed to the point that I’m not even sure I’m going to be able to walk to the toilet.”
He waggles his brows at me and talks through a grin that lights up his entire face.
“You fucking loved it and didn’t complain once that I was hurting you.”
“I did love it. You’ll get no complaints from me, Mr Sex God Surfie Dude, but that does not negate the fact, I’m still not sure if I can walk.”
My stomach chooses that moment to growl really loudly.
“We didn’t eat much yesterday,” I whisper.
“I ate you,” Gabe says with a wink which brings on an onslaught of fanny flutters. Having no other response, I smile and shake my head.
Gabe rolls off me, taking the sheet with him. The harsh morning sun glares down on my exposed body, and I fight every insecure atom of my being not to react.
“Hurry up and go to the toilet, Ren. If you don’t, I’m coming back over there, then I’m gonna fuck you.”
I turn my head to look at where he’s now lying on his back staring up at the ceiling.
“Thank you,” I whisper quietly.
“For what?” He turns to meet my gaze and asks.
“It’s going to take a while till all of those seeds of self-doubt are harvested, and all of my old insecurities stop rearing their ugly heads. I knew I was a mess. . .”
“Only because he got in your head and made you that way,” he interrupts me and says.
Rolling onto his side, he reaches out his hand and rests his palm on the side of my face.
“He did, I know that, and I know I need to stop overthinking every thought that goes through my head. I used to have so much confidence, and I know if I dig deep, I can find that part of me again, and you’re helping me do that, you’re making me want to do that, to be that person again, and all of that is making me wonder, what was I thinking? Why did I stay and let him fuck with my mind like that? Why didn’t I get out sooner?”
His thumb brushes back and forth over my cheek, his tongue darts out and swipes at first his bottom lip, then his top. He leans in, kisses me oh so gently on each of my cheeks, then my nose, and finally my mouth.
“Because you’ve been waiting for me.”
His words are almost a whisper, as gentle as his kiss, but he says them with absolute conviction. He says them in a way that I wonder why it’s not blatantly obvious. Like it’s a fact, and my whole life has brought me to him; has led me across the world and through a marriage, all so I could find him.
