Chapter 70

Renee’s POV

It’s late by the time I wake up the next morning. After I left Eric, I went for a drive. Aimlessly moving through the streets mulling our conversation over and over again in my head.

I don’t know what time it was when I finally snuck into bed and fell restlessly to sleep. Now, the bed is empty. I don’t know where Eric is, but I can only hope he isn’t on his way to pick up Debbie.

I don’t have much time.

I wanted to wake up early and get things moving, but there was no way I’d be able to muster up the strength to pull myself out of bed after that emotionally tasking conversation.

During my drive, I came to the understanding that I have to leave. I think I already knew this on some level, but yesterday just made it crystal clear.

I’m tired of this dance. I tried to make it work, then he did, now I am. If we’re continuing this game then technically it’s his turn, but I’m done.

I rub my eyes and try to shake off the sleepiness and cast aside this depleted feeling in myself. I’ll have time to process my emotions later tonight.

I hastily throw items in a suitcase, taking only the essentials. I’m not sure how long I’ll be gone, but anything I forget I can buy later. Last time I left with nothing but the clothes on my back and managed to survive, so I think I can do it again.

On to Debbie’s room. Same for her, I pack some of her favorite dresses and stuff animals. I pack her toothbrush and her school things.

I trot down the stairs, thinking I might be able to get out of here before he returns- until I hear the garage door open.

Dejavu crashes over me. I stand frozen in fear. So much for learning from my past.

Debbie is the first to bustle in through the door- still in her pj’s from her sleep over. Eric comes in behind her, carrying her bag. He doesn’t see me at first, but Debbie does. She stops in her tracks and looks up at me.

Eric nearly knocks into her, but catches himself and then follows her gaze, his eyes landing on me. Debbie’s bag falls to the floor.

“What are you doing?” He asks, but it’s evident he already knows the answer.

“I’m going to stay with Emily,” I tell him trying to sound brave.

“Fine,” Eric says. His response nearly knocks the wind out of me. It’s like I’ve been punched in the gut. I was so sure that this was what I wanted, but hearing him readily let me go- I wasn’t prepared for that. “The distance will do us good,” He says apathetically.

I said that I was done with this dance that Eric and I were doing, and I’m learning that he is too. I forbid my heart from aching, instead forcing it to turn to stone.

“That’s what I thought,” I agree. “C’mon Debbie, let’s go.” I tell her and place her suitcase forward.

Debbie stomps her foot. “I’m staying with Dad,” She declares. Another punch in the gut.

“Fine,” I say because if I say anything more, or have to beg my daughter to come with me- I’ll cry.

Besides, I can’t blame Debbie. She’s been with me for almost six years and ever since she could talk she’s been asking for a father- now she has hers. I can’t expect her to just let that go. No matter how much it pains me, I won’t take that away from her.

She’ll see in her own time the coldness of her father. Maybe it’s cruel of me, but she’ll have to learn the hard way.

I yank the door open and leave without looking back. I keep my eyes ahead all the way until I get to Emily’s.

Emily is waiting for me on the driveway of her cottage-like home. She lives in a very rural area, far away from the city. Her quaint and simple living is almost an ironic stark contrast to her bold and loud personality.

She wraps me into a hug and it’s only then do I realize that I’ve been crying.

We step inside and she leads me to her living room where she has tea already set on a tray next to a fireplace. She doesn’t ask me anything right away, which I appreciate.

“How was Jasper?” I ask, remembering his drunken state last night. Emily picks up her tea cup and gives a telling look. “That bad, huh?”

“He doesn’t remember how he got hurt,” Emily says. My jaw falls open.

“That means,” I say slowly as the idea begins to form. “He doesn’t remember telling me that,” I trail off. Emily nods. “Well, that’s good.” I decide.

If Jasper doesn’t remember telling me that he loves me, maybe we can just move past this. Maybe he didn’t even mean it, he was drunk after all- we all say things we don’t mean when we’re drunk.

“How late did you stay at his place?” I ask out of curiosity.

“He stayed here,” Emily clarifies and I widen my eyes at her.

“No, no,” Emily shakes her head and sets her tea down on her rectangular glass table. “Nothing happened, I just couldn’t take him home and leave him. What if he choked on his vomit or something?”

Then Emily laughs. “He thought the same thing when he woke up here,” She doesn’t realize it, but the way she says that makes it sound like she wishes something did happen.

Though I was so wrapped up in Eric last night, it wasn’t lost on me how friendly Emily was being with Jasper. Then again, she also was drinking.

I’m about to come right out and ask her if she has feelings for Jasper, but then she gasps. “I almost forgot,” she says and jumps up from the couch. “I left the cookies in the oven,” she hurries to her kitchen and I put the idea of her and Jasper together out of my mind.

The afternoon rolls into evening which ticks away into the late night and with each passing minute I’m reminded of how good it is to have a friend, how desperately I needed a girls night.

Emily and I paint each other's nails, reminisce on old times in high-school, make, and burn, more cookies. Being with Emily now makes me realize it’s been far too long since her and I had a night like this.

Eventually, we get to that time in the night. The half-eaten cookies have hardened, the music is turned down, and the mood of the evening quietens.

I stare blankly at the floor and let the emotions of the last twenty-four hours roll over me. Though, I don’t cry. I’m too tired for that.

Emily seems to understand my mood without me having to say a word at all. “You can stay as long as you like,” she tells me.

I think about spending some time here, away from the noise of the city. Every morning I wake up and sit on her swinging chair on the back porch over overlooking the meadows with buds of flowers getting ready to bloom.

I work from her place, sitting in her rocking chair next to the fireplace calling clients. When work is done, maybe I go into the woods and try to get back in touch with my wolf- all on my own without the help of Eric- just to know that I can.

“Thank you,” I tell Emily, though I mean to thank her for more than just the place to stay. I thank her for always being there for me, for being with me through all the craziness of my life. I thank her for being my best friend.