Page 37 of The Cabin

“Yeah, it must be really difficult having a place to sleep and food to eat and plumbing. I can only imagine what you’re going through.”

“Hey!” I pull on a strap of the bag he’s carrying to make sure he’s listening. “I’ve said thank you like a million times. I can go back to my cabin, I don’t –”

“I was joking, relax.” Sensitive topic, sir.

More walking, and we fall back into silence. The weather is gorgeous, and being under all the trees ensures it never gets too hot. The leaves all look translucent from the light passing through them, and there’s a bit of an overall storybook vibe. I’m about to freak out and slap all the bugs touching me, but outside of that, I feel pretty good. I do wish I was by myself…

No, I don’t. I mean, I do, but I don’t. I just don’t know what to do with myself around Grayson. I’m totally relying on witty remarks and arguing because if I don’t hide behind them I’ll have to deal with the fact that I’m essentially obsessed with him. And because I’m living with him I have to keep it shoved deep, deep down to make sure I don’t freak him out and make a fool of myself.

Grayson breaks the quiet. “Can we just call a cease fire for the rest of the day?”

“Can’t take the heat?”

His fingers brush against mine. “Please?”

Do you want me to combust, orrr…? “Okay, temporary truce.”

He holds out a hand for me to shake. I take it and he pulls me in close to him, so close. “And just so you know… I can take the heat.” He’s gone and walking ahead before I can blink. I can’t move.

I stand frozen for a few seconds, not sure if I’m hallucinating or, I don’t know, having a psychotic break…

“Come on, Sol. We have places to be.”

Oh, I have someplace to be. Hell. I am so going to hell for the fantasies I create in my head starring someone else’s husband.

I jog to catch up even though, ethically speaking, I’m extremely against running of any kind.

“You know I have way shorter legs than you. You need to slow down.”

“Trust me, I’ve noticed.”

“Great, so slow your roll.” I reach out and pull on his wrist, reducing his speed. “Perfect.”

“You’re not a hiker, huh?”

“It’s against my religion.” He gives me a funny look. As always, when he looks at me I’m positive he’s thinking something along the lines of, ‘She is such a nut.’

“I don’t believe in doing uncomfortable things.”

There’s a pause. You can tell he’s trying to be nice and hold back his snippy comment. “That seems like sound logic.”

“Oh, it’s not. At all. It gets me in a lot of trouble. Cue sitting in my apartment for two years because I couldn’t face anyone and didn’t know who I was anymore.”

“You were dealing with a lot.”

I turn towards him, thinking. “You signed your divorce papers and immediately came up here to renovate an abandoned cabin, turning it into something really wonderful. You’re dealing with a lot too, but that doesn’t stop you from living like it did me.”

“It’s just my version of hiding out. I can’t sit still or else my thoughts race, replaying everything. So, I built a cabin.” He grabs the back of his neck and plays with the hair there.

“I drank a lot of wine to shut mine up.”

He laughs. “Don’t worry, I’ve done that too.”

The whine that slips out is a total accident. I am really trying to be nice and stop complaining, but there’s a huge freaking decline ahead of us on the path with a bunch of boulders sticking out. It’s something a ram or a goat would have a lot of fun with. Not a Sol.

“Grayson, you can’t be serious.”

“It’s not as bad as it looks.” He turns to me and offers his hand expectantly. “Trust me.”

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