Waindale

“Call if you need anything, okay? We’re always here if you need us,” my mom says, standing in the doorway. I glance back and her and nod before walking down the porch steps. My bag is fuller now than yesterday—I grabbed a few things. Unlike the first time, I didn’t take clothes or shampoo or toothpaste; I took the picture of my mom and me from my desk. The carved necklace of the moon goddess that I was gifted is stashed inside as well.

Adam’s truck is parked along the side of the road. My mom waves to him, and he waves back. It’s better this way. Whenever my two worlds come together, there is always some sort of misunderstanding. There can never be a perfect translation, so maybe a wave and a smile are good enough. I peer back again when I get to the car door. My mom doesn’t close the front door until Adam starts his truck, but once it’s closed, I know it’s time to switch to the other side of me.

“How was it?” Adam asks.

“Um, it was okay.”

“Tired? You can take a nap when we get back.”

I look away when his eyes find mine. There isn’t a bone in my body that wants to tell him that I slept just fine. “Yeah,” I murmur, “I will.”

When we arrive back at the house, Ben is there waiting for him. I leave the two and head to the bedroom with my bag. A sense of comfort swallows me as I walk in as if I’ve been away on vacation for weeks and I’m finally home again. I drop my bag on the bed and take out my picture frame. It’s sat on the table against my side of the bed, and along with it, the moon goddess necklace is strung on the corner of the headboard. I put my bag away and lay down. My breath lightens and my body sinks into the mattress, but no matter how long I wait, I know I won’t be falling asleep any time soon.

I remember when I first came into this room; Adam’s scent bombarded me. It’s different now—the scent is still there, but I’ve acclimated to it. I suppose there are quite a few things that I’ve gotten used to, like the feeling I get in my chest when I see him. My heart throbbed in the beginning, and now it’s settled to a sense of relief. It’s as if life before him weighed on me—a discomfort I thought nothing of—but when I’m with him, the weight is lifted. I can breathe easier.

We started all of this because we needed each other so badly. I fear that the more like my father I become, the less I’ll need Adam.

Footsteps grow in the hall outside the door, and my head lifts off the pillow. A part of me is relieved—I don’t want to be stuck waiting here.

Adam comes through and I sit up eagerly. With just one glance at this face, my smile falls.

“Sorry to bother you, I know you’re tired,” he says, speaking swiftly, “but I had to tell you now.”

“What is it?”

“My family is coming back.”

Five words I knew would come eventually. A part of me wished they decided to live somewhere else and simply forgot to give notice. Is it evil of me to want his family to leave us alone?

“Oh,” I blurt without much ready behind it.

Adam’s eyes soften but his face remains still. He looks at me for a moment before saying, “I know. They’ll be back in town, but this is still our place, okay? She won’t bother you here.”

It’s funny how he doesn’t need to say the word ‘mother’ for me to know who he’s referring to. I’ve gotten over the fact that she’ll never approve of me or like me or understand Adam’s decision to stay with me, but that doesn’t mean I want her around.

“You promise? Promise that we’re safe here,” I insist. “Promise that she won’t be barging in and dragging me out.”

“This is our house, Wrenley,” he says while looking into my eyes. ”Ours. She knows that.”

“She hates what I am.”

His arms cross. “She disapproves of what she thinks you are—which we both know means nothing to us either way. This was going to happen eventually; I just don’t want you worrying about her again.”

I sigh and fall back against my pillow. “I won’t,” I assure him, “I have other people to worry about anyway. I was just used to it only being us.”

“Nothing is going to change.”

“I hope you’re right,” I mumble.

Adam stands for a moment with his hands on his hips. I can see it on his face that he’s thinking of something else to say to convince me of this, but no guarantee comes out. His hands drop as his shoulders sink.

“I’ll leave you to get some sleep,” he says.

“I don’t think I’m tired.”

The words leave me without warning. Before he can question, I add, “I don’t know why—I just can’t sleep. I think I’ll take a shower.”

He nods and finishes with, “Ben and I will be downstairs. I’ll let you know if we head out.”

I watch Adam walk out the doors and close them carefully behind him. I don’t know why the conversation ended this way—it’s not what I wanted. When I heard him coming down the hall, all I wanted was for him to lay with me for a bit, even for a minute or two. I wanted to rest my head against his chest and listen to his heartbeat and his lungs breathe and every other little noise that might assure me of his livelihood. But that’s not what happened. Instead, he told me bad news and things shifted—we’re slightly off-balance now—and I need to fix it.

The shower is a distraction. My mind is preoccupied with massaging and rinsing and the compelling scent of his products; they sit right beside mine. As the conditioner soaks into my hair, I pop the lid off his bottles and take a whiff. I think back to the times when we were so undeniably close that I could nearly pick up the faint remnant of his wash.

I step out of the shower when I’m done and face the abrupt yet candid mirror. There’s a temptation rooted inside of me, beckoning me to look. Just a quick check—just to make sure. I bite my bottom lip and turn ever so slightly to the side. My eyes stay fixated on my invisible belly, but if I move to just the right angle—

“Wrenley?”

His voice calls from the other side of the bathroom door, sudden and surprising, causing me to snatch a towel and tear my gaze away. “Y-Yeah?” I utter back, flustered with hot cheeks. He didn’t see anything, yet my heart thumps relentlessly in my chest.

Adam’s voice toys with me when he says, “Everything alright? I just came to tell you that I’ll be out for a couple hours tonight. Alexander and I will be checking out a few things around the Waindale borders.”

“Really? Will you be out late?”

“I’m not sure. I thought maybe Vivianne could come by and stay with you while I’m gone, just to be safe.”

“Um, okay, I guess I can see what she’s up to.”

He pauses for a moment then says, “And, you know, stay in the house.”

My eyes stare into their reflection in the mirror as I say, “I know.” It’s almost like an illusion now; like the longer I stare, the less real everything feels. Again, words leave my lips with no authority when I say, “He’s pulling me away from you.”

I can feel his presence, almost as if his energy is seeping through the door. The sound of his hand resting on the door handle makes me watch the thing with building anxiety. The door isn’t locked, but he doesn’t open it. It’s as if he can’t decide whether to infiltrate or let me speak.

“I’ve been thinking about it for a while now,” I continue, “recalling things he’s said to me. I guess I just didn’t want to tell you because the idea of hurting you—hurts me. I’ve been thinking about a lot of things, and I’ve been making decisions without you, and I’m sorry.”

“Wrenley—”

“I would do anything for you. I really would. I really am, and you just have to let me do it. When the time comes, you have to trust that I’m doing what’s best for both of us.”

I can feel it moving inside of me—growing. With my father’s power, my body is changing, and it will continue to change in many ways that I’m not sure I can handle at this point.

I swallow and press my palm to the door. My head conjures images of his hand pressed against the other side. I watch the air in front of me as if it were his face. “I know we agreed that I wouldn’t accept any more power from him, but I don’t know if I can keep that promise. I need it. I need it, Adam, but it’s weakening our bond. And I have to choose.”

“Wrenley, I’m going to open the door.”

I lock the door swiftly and blurt, “I can’t stay this with you looking at me—I really can’t. Please, just, give me a moment.”

His hand presses down on the handle but it refuses to give in.

“I’m going to have to choose our bond or my father’s power and I’m going to choose the power, and before you say anything, hear me out, okay? Okay?”

When all I get in return is silence, I take it as a nod to carry on.

“I’ve been making plans without telling you—plans in my head—but it’s not fair to keep you in the dark. And now that your mother is coming back, I need you on my side. You probably hate me for turning my back on our bond, but that’s really not what I’m doing.”

I unlock the door then because I know that I have to say the rest of this face to face no matter what may arise from my stomach and spew out my mouth. When I steadily open the bathroom door, I find Adam sitting on the bed, eyes on the floor as he listens. I step out, causing him to look up.

“You’re going to think I’m insane,” I murmur. “And you’re probably not going to like it very much.”

There’s defeat in his expression. Adam’s gaze trickles back down—he’s unable to take any more hits but I keep throwing punches.

I peer up, say a silent prayer, then mumble, “I’m going to have a baby.”

His body halts. It’s as if I’m watching a terribly dramatic television show and have hit the pause button.

“I’m going to have a baby, and I need his power to be able to grow it inside of me.”

Adam takes in a deep breath. Finally, he lifts his head and stares at me with a look on his face that I can’t decipher. With no preamble, he solely says, “No.”

“If you could just listen for—”

“No,” he cuts me off. “I don’t know what in the world brought you to that conclusion, but it’s not happening. I don’t care to hear any reasoning behind it.”

My lips remain parted as I grasp for anything to help me.

“I know you don’t understand, but—”

Adam stands up then, exercising any and all power he has over me. “No.” He watches my mouth open then interrupts before I can even spout a single word. “This isn’t an argument we’re going to have. When I say no, I’m not asking for you to change my mind.”

I shake my head and spill, “I’ve felt it inside of me.”

“There is nothing for you to feel,” he says, moving closer. “You’re going to drive yourself mad if you carry on with this. You are not pregnant, Wrenley, and I will not hear another word about it.”

I look to my feet and tighten my grasp on the towel around me. Does he think I’m an idiot? I’m sure I look like some inexperienced, naive, little girl for believing such a thing, but it’s true; I feel something, and it’s not my newly-obtained power. I needed this. And soon enough, he’ll need it too.

Adam leaves the room without another word.

I return to the bathroom to grab my phone and message Vivianne.