Page 6 of Redeem

So I couldn’t allow myself to think of it, but I couldn’t stop it either. Soon, I gave up the fight. I closed my eyes and drifted to sleep, memories of my time with Dana filling my mind.

Four

Dana

I hadn’t slept well the night before, but there was nothing too unusual about that. I hadn’t slept well for years, hadn’t slept well for my entire life, really.

I’d gotten used to that, but the reason for my sleeplessness was new.

Him.

I’d kept thinking about him, found my mind turning back to him over and over again.

Wished I’d had the foresight to ask his name.

Then told myself I was stupid for thinking such a thing.

I’d come here for solitude, knew that there was no place for me with other people, knew that other people would only bring pain, and yet here I was thinking about one.

I couldn’t pinpoint what it was, the awareness that was so evident in the way he looked at the world, the way he had so unexpectedly approached me. Maybe it was a combination of all of it.

But whatever the reason, it didn’t matter. I didn’t want to deal with anyone, had decided it was best for me to be alone, but I was still human. There was nothing wrong with being intrigued by another person, but that was as far as it went. This would pass soon anyway.

Besides, he was probably gone by now.

I hadn’t asked him anything, but I could probably guess at his story, figured he wouldn’t be sticking around. I’d just stay home and lay low for a couple of days, and soon I’d forget about him.

So the next morning when I found myself pulling on my boots and headed to the truck, I told myself that it had nothing to do with him. I’d forgotten sealant for the wood, so another trip to the home improvement store was in order.

It could probably wait, but it would be best to have everything I needed on hand, especially if I got bored and finished the project sooner than I’d planned. It only made sense to go.

That was the story I told myself as I drove toward the hardware store, and it was the only story I would allow myself to acknowledge.

But I wasn’t delusional enough to believe that it was true.

As I turned into the parking lot, my heartbeat inched up a notch, and I felt a slight pressure clamp down on my stomach. All of it was in anticipation of seeing him.

I didn’t look too far into the parking lot where the workers gathered, kept my eyes straight ahead as I walked toward the store. Once I got inside, I didn’t linger and went directly to the sealant. I purchased a couple of cans and made it back to my truck, all without looking left or right.

I was proud of myself and pleased that I’d passed my own little test.

As I placed the cans in the back of the truck, I felt a shiver, one of awareness and not fear. For the first time since I’d entered the parking lot, I allowed myself to look somewhere other than straight ahead.

Met eyes that were so familiar, so welcome, when they shouldn’t have been either. Instantly, my mind went back to yesterday, the brief brush of his arm against my breast. How I’d wanted so much more. I frowned, an expression so at odds with how pleasurable the memory was.

“You’re back today,” he said, his voice pulling me from my thoughts.

“I needed sealant for the wood,” I said, gesturing toward the back of my truck.

It was odd that I was having this conversation, and even odder that it felt so important.

“You need help,” he said.

I shook my head quickly, even though there was nothing in his tone that said he’d asked the question.

“I don’t. I’m fine,” I replied.

And I wanted that to be true, wanted it more than I had ever realized before.