Page 81 of The Cabin

I took the first step in coming up here. That’s huge. It’s not feeling huge right now, but Joanna says I have to tell myself the exact opposite of what my brain is screaming at me. And right now, it’s screaming, ‘Sol, you’re so fucking inept that you can’t reach out and put your hand on the man who has been so unbelievably good to you? You can’t woman up and tell someone you like being with them? Seriously? You’re just going to ruin everything over being scared and pathetic and insecure?’

How have I lived this long being as scared of life as I am? Seems like something you should focus on when you run away from all your problems to a cabin in the middle of the woods pretending it’s to find yourself when really, it’s probably an act of cowardice because you can’t face what a mess you made of your life.

I’m babbling and joking and being self-deprecating because if I don’t… Well, we don’t need to go there. Bottle it up. Screw the cap on.

With a few deep breaths and a hundred failed affirmations from those stupid sheets I printed out, I pick myself up off the floor and drag my bag out to the truck.

At least I didn’t start crying, right?

I walk by the driver’s side where Grayson is already behind the wheel and squat down, ready to heave my bag into the bed. Before I get the chance to give my best tennis grunt, I hear an irritated click of a tongue as a door opens and hands grip the handle of my bag.

“I’ve got it, just get in.” God, I am the worst. Iampathetic. Grayson needed comfort and validation and I couldn’t give it to him. Even though he’s given it to me. And somehow, he’s still out here taking care of me.

—

The next six hours are excruciating. No one makes a single freaking sound. Grayson doesn’t even cough or sneeze or anything. No music, no tapping. Literally nothing to break the tension. I don’t know what’s worse, the deafening silence or the deafening screaming in my head.

As you can imagine, six hours is an extremely long time to be stuck in an environment perfect for a good spiral. Joanna can suck my ass. This is very much me pulling the same bull shit I always do. I may have been originally having a trauma response, but I have now sat in a truck forsix goddamn hourswithout saying a single thing. I know I am in the wrong. I know I pulled away and lashed out and did what I have a history of doing. I have been begging myself to open my stupid fucking mouth and just say something.

But I haven’t. Every second that passed made it that much more difficult to bring it up. After five minutes I thought, ‘Okaaaayyyy and talk. Go… now!’ That didn’t work. After ten minutes I said to myself, ‘Okay, just spit it out. Anything is better than this silence. You can’t screw it up.’ That also did not work. By four hours in, I was berating myself for being so broken and sad that I was literally choking on my own fear of rejection. I have actually made someone else feel rejected in an attempt to ensure I wouldn’t have to feel rejected. Great healing, Sol. Very nice work.

Wefinallypull into a parking lot of the hotel I assume we’re staying at and I send a thank you to every religious and non-religious deity that exists. If I had to spend one more minute in that car I would’ve disintegrated into the seat.

Grayson heads inside without looking back and I scamper after him trying to catch up. He’s already speaking with the front desk person when I arrive.

“Okay I have one room for two ready for the Stoker party.” Her customer service smile is pretty impressive.

“Thanks.” Grayson moves to take the key card.

“Oh… I can, uh, stay in my own room.” There’s no way he wants to share the same space as me after this morning. That would be very like Grayson to suffer in silence just so he didn’t have to hurt my feelings and ask me to stay somewhere else.

The look on Grayson’s face makes my stomach sink and then fill with what feels like a million creepy crawlers. I don’t know how to describe the sound of disappointment and hurt he makes, but it hits me right in the chest. “Don’t know why I’m surprised.” He shakes his head and disappears onto one of the elevators.

Vatner reservation, party of one. We’ve booked you the Loser’s suite and it comes with free self-loathing!

Chapter 22

Turning my phone on after three weeks of not having it is really weird.

I plugged it in when I first got to my room and had to wait for it to charge. From the twenty-five missed calls, I probably should’ve remembered to update my parents on my change of plans. Although, weirdly, they’re all from the first two weeks I was here. They stopped calling after that. I was supposed to come home after two weeks. What did they do, assume I was dead?

“Oh,nowyou want to call your mother?¿Qué pasó?Because I know you must’ve been trapped in a well and on the verge of death. There’s no other possible reason you wouldn’t call home,” is the first thing I hear when I make my first phone call in weeks.

“Hi, Mom.”

“Hi, hunny!”

They’ve got me on speaker phone. “Hi, Dad.”

“How are you doing sweetie? How’s the cabin?”

“It’s…it’s good. It’s been good.”

“That’s great! We’ve been worried about you.”

“Yeah, my car broke down and I had to extend my stay longer than I expected. And you know I don’t get service up here.” Best if they think I just went far enough away from the mountain to have a few bars of service. A joy ride. Not to, you know, New York. With a strange man I just met. Who is incredibly handsome and kind and makes me come until I see stars. And who I’ve also completely pushed away because I am still letting Brian ruin my life.

Iknowmy flaws. I just feel paralyzed in the moment, unable to do anything about them.

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