Page 53 of Freeing the Wild
I play with Billi and chat for over an hour before Ivy has to leave to meet Wade and Rowan, and Mama heads out to meet Jo.
Once they’re gone, I get dressed and wash my face, wishing I could wash last night’s humiliation off me at the same time.But I can’t.So, instead, I grab my laptop and video-call Dr.Payler.
“You seem like you had fun.Following those key instincts is exactly what you need to do going forward, Cassie.”
“Even when I make a fool of myself?”I ask her through mycomputer screen.I still haven’t had a response from Haden since my message this morning.
“What do you mean?”she asks.I fill her in, the entire nitty-gritty, because as she told me in the beginning this doesn’t work if I’m not completely honest.And after a few meetings I already know she’s a safe space.
“You’re a human being, Cassie.You’re bound to make mistakes.Growing through your anxieties is all about learning to accept your imperfections.Learning to accept that you can’t control everything around you and that’s okay …”
Dr.Payler and I continue our session before we eventually finish up and I attempt to keep myself busy.I text Ginger about the visit to her school we talked about, before taking out my notebook and listing all the reasons I fell in love with music.
I look down at the paper when I’m done and my heart heaves in my chest.
I loved swinging on our tree swing, singing the songs of Carrie Underwood and LeAnn Rimes.My feet were bare, my knees were dirty, but I knew I was safe.I would hear my father working in the yard around me, my mother humming in the house while she baked.I’d play under that tree with Ivy, digging for bugs, looking out over the shallow creek in our yard.Those were the happiest days of my life.
I loved learning new songs to play to my parents.I used to put on shows for them.Ivy would write the details on the chalkboard while I made tickets out of paper, stuffing them in envelopes and delivering them to my mom and dad and Ivy.“6 o’clock tonight: Cassie Spencer’s new hit.”And every time, my parents would be there, tickets in hand, and I would sing for them.They never tired of it.No.They’d always clap and tell me I was going to be a star.
Every time I write a song that means something to me and people enjoy it, it reminds me of where it all began.Of that feeling of peace.That feeling of safety.
I swipe a tear away as the realization hits me.Writing and playing music represents everything I loved about my childhood, and everything I lost forever the day my dad passed away.
I take a long hot shower after my day of writing and digging into my emotions, and try to remember Dr.Payler’s words—that I’m human and I will make mistakes.But the more hours go by with no response from Haden, the more humiliated I feel.
I try to keep busy by spending some time on making a little video for my socials using all the ones Dax sent me this morning.Normally I wouldn’t advertise an invasion of privacy, but I decide getting in front of this, and making it feel normal and real, is the best thing to do.
I pair the video with a good Shania Twain song since we danced to so many of them last night and caption it: “Sometimes the best sort of rest is just dancing with the girls to the girls.Shout out to Shania for keeping me dancing all night while visiting Kentucky!”
I don’t even check in with Dax before I post it.Fuck them all if I can’t just be a person.
Surprisingly, for the rest of the afternoon the responses I get on the video are all positive.Mostly well-wishes and comments about how cute my outfit is.Maybe, despite what Dax says about everything having to be polished, throwing something organic into the mix every once in a while isn’t a bad idea after all.
Two hours later, I realize the problem with anxiety is she’s a bitch.A big, angry colossal bitch who gives no fucks and pops up in the worst way for no reason at all.Just when you think you have a breakthrough, she rears her ugly head.So after I don’thear from Haden, I start second-guessing everything I did and said last night and spend the rest of the afternoon pacing around my cabin.A million reasons as to why he hasn’t answered my text run through my mind.But the ones I keep coming back to are:he’s obviously disgusted with me for acting like I’d whore myself out for a ride home last nightandhe’s asking Wade for me to be moved somewhere else on the property so he doesn’t have to live next door to me.
“Well,fuck, Cass …” I say out loud, doing everything I can to get out of my own head.I don’t think.I just slip on my boots and coat, grab the keys to Ivy’s truck she’s been letting me borrow and head out to the driveway.It’s so damn damp and chilly.It definitely feels like snow is coming.I pull my wool hat down as I get in the truck.I have no idea where I’m headed but decide maybe a backroad country drive will help calm me.Maybe I can even find a place to get some chamomile tea into me in Laurel Creek’s picturesque downtown.I fumble for a few minutes before I start the truck, and I’m pulling up the playlist on my phone for the drive when I hear a cabin door shut through the glass.I turn and notice Haden in his big flannel coat.He’s carrying a Yeti cooler in his gloved hand as he makes his way down the front steps of his cabin to his truck.I check the time.Just after five-thirty.Same time I’ve noticed him leaving most nights over the last ten days.Always around dinner and usually not returning until after ten o’clock.It dawns on me that maybe he goes out to be with a woman, a woman that isn’t an entitled, high-maintenance princess like me.A pang of jealousy punches me square in the chest.At least, I think it’s jealousy, because I’m pretty sure this is the first time I’ve felt it.
His truck fires up with a deep rumble and I crouch down so he won’t see me.Like I said, anxiety is a bitch, and when mine flares up I shouldn’t be trusted.Case in point: when I back out of the driveway moments later to follow him.
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
Cassie
I block out the logic that following Haden is insane.Then I push down the voice that says he’s going to think I’m a lunatic if he finds out, and I stay a few cars behind him down the main highway that runs past Laurel Creek.
Finally, a few concessions down from Silver Pines, his blinker goes on.I watch as he pulls down a long gravel driveway and up to the front of a house that isn’t far from the road I’m on.The house he’s parked in front of is an old, dark brown brick farmhouse.There are two barns to the left of it and beautiful pastures beyond.The last of the day’s sun reflects off the swaying barren trees, but you can almost see and smell that spring is around the corner.This would be just his style—a woman out here in the country who shares his love for animals.That feeling of jealousy sucker-punches me again.
Haden shuts his truck off and hops out carrying the cooler.I pull over to the side of the road behind the safety of a hedge at the edge of the property.
“I’m just curious,” I tell myself out loud as I sink down behind the steering wheel.Right.Just a curious creep.I watch as Haden climbs up to the porch.He pauses before he knocks,setting down the cooler and opening up a bucket that sits on the steps.He pulls a scoop from it and sprinkles salt on his girlfriend’s front steps.Goddammit he’s a good man.
I hold my breath as I wait for her to answer.But when she does, I stare in shock for a few seconds.The woman who greets Haden is small and pretty with chin-length dark hair and glasses, but she’s … older.A lot older.She must be at least sixty-five.Haden pulls her in for a hug and points to the porch like he’s explaining what he just did.As he does so, his eyes flit to mine.
Motherfucker.
I duck down further behind the wheel, my breathing out of control now.Do I start the truck and leave?Do I hope he hasn’t seen me and he’s already gone inside to be with whoever this woman is?I decide after a few minutes to raise my head up slightly and peek.He’s probably already gone inside.I’m worrying for nothing.Except he hasn’t, and I physically shriek when he knocks on the driver’s-side window of my truck with the back of his first two knuckles.
“Shit!”I cry out as I sit up.I’m so totally and completely busted.Haden makes the motion with his hand for me to roll down my window,slowly.I pray that the ground beneath my truck will open up and swallow me whole so I don’t have to face him and that smug smirk he’s wearing.I take a deep breath and run through every excuse I can think of as I roll the window down.
