Page 7

WENDY

I can't believe what Wolff is telling me. It seems completely illogical and, honestly, a little crazy. But the way he's looking at me, the way he seems so earnest about it, I can't help but wonder if it's true.

Perhaps there's some truth to the bond we share.

The connection I feel to him is unreal. As much as it pains me to admit, I've been wondering why he would be interested in someone like me, and this makes sense.

It hurts knowing that it's not his choice, but if it's anything like he's described, it must be intense for him.

The idea of him having a place for me in his town is intriguing.

A part of me would love to just hop in his car and leave this shit hole town behind, but I can't do that.

I have Naomi to worry about. If I leave her, what's going to happen?

She can't fend for herself the way I did growing up.

Maybe that's on me for sheltering her, but I just wanted her to grow up different from how I did.

Naomi needs me here. I can't leave her, not even for someone like Wolff.

“Can you take me home?” I ask, finally saying something after what feels like hours of staring at him in silence.

He stands and nods, quickly packing up the blanket and leftover pastries from the ground. We walk toward his car in tense silence. He must know I'm questioning myself, and him, for that matter. I can sense his stress as he walks in front of me, and I wish I could take it away.

I just don't know what to feel right now, and that’s killing me. Everything was going so wonderfully, and now this is standing in our way.

We get in his car and he drives toward my house, neither of us saying anything again.

Wolff is sad, and it breaks my heart to think that.

He's brought me so much happiness in the past two days that I feel awful knowing I'm the root of the sadness.

But I can't help it. I have a life here and priorities.

I can't just leave them and run off to Oregon with him, no matter how badly I think I want to.

When we pull up to my house, I get out of the car and stand by the passenger door for a moment, watching him with tears in my eyes. “I'm sorry,” I say, resting my hand on the car while I look at him.

He sighs and looks down at his hands and his lap, nodding his head slowly. He doesn't know what to say, and I can't blame him. I'm sure he expected me to react in a much different way to that news.

I back away, waving timidly at the car before he drives off into the distance and leaves me standing in the driveway with tears streaming down my face.

Wolff is perfect, and I wish more than anything I could give him what he wants.

Susan was right. I don't think I will ever find a man like him around here again.

It's late enough in the afternoon that Naomi should be home, so I try to collect myself before walking through the front door.

The last thing I need is her asking me questions about why I'm sad.

I'm supposed to be the strong one. No matter how badly I want to bury my face in the pillow and cry myself to sleep, I have to hold it together.

I open the door, and before I can even close it, my father comes bounding my way with his face contorted in anger. “Who the hell was that?” he shouts, spittle flying from his mouth.

He's not usually home right now. I'm caught off guard by him being here in general, and I don't know what to say. I stand by the door, closing it and leaning against it, shaking my head in confusion.

“Who the fuck were you just in that car with?” he shouts again, moving closer. He's swaying back and forth, clearly drunk.

I don't understand why he's so angry right now.

I wasn't standing on the front lawn making out with Wolff.

I simply got out of the car and waved goodbye.

He doesn't know that I just lost my virginity in a meadow not even thirty minutes ago, and I've given him no reason to think something like that might have happened.

Besides, I'm nineteen years old, and that's none of his business.

“Answer me, you dumb bitch!” He moves closer and wraps his hands around my forearms, digging them in tight enough that I can already feel a bruise forming. I try to yank my hand away, but he holds it tighter to keep me still.

“You're hurting me!” I shout, feeling the tears stinging my eyes again. Maybe I was silly to think I could come home and have a little bit of peace after what just happened between Wolff and me. Because I sure as hell didn't expect this.

“No daughter of mine is going to be out whoring around,” he says, dragging me through the house toward the stairs. I try to fight back and stand my ground, but he just digs his nails in tighter.

Eventually, I give up and follow him up the stairs. He opens the bedroom door and shoves me inside. I fall to the ground and land on a few old wooden blocks Naomi has had since she was a toddler.

Naomi screams when she sees me, and I turn my attention away from my dad on whatever tirade he's on now and try to think of something to tell her about this. The fear is etched on her face, and I know there's nothing I'll be able to do to take it away from her.

The door slams, and I hear it locking from the outside.

I'm immediately brought back to my childhood.

He and my stepmom would have friends over for parties and lock me here in my room so I couldn't disturb them.

It hasn't happened in ages, and I've done everything in my power to make sure it never happened to Naomi.

But here we are. I'm really regretting not running away with Wolff now.

I stand and rush over to Naomi, who is curled up on the bed crying. I wrap my arms around her and hold her close, rocking back and forth to soothe her.

“Don't worry. It's going to be okay,” I whisper in her ear.

When my dad’s like this, there's no talking to him. I can hear him stomping around outside the room, slamming cabinets and kicking furniture that just so happens to be in his path.

Hours pass and both Naomi and I are hungry, our stomachs growling loud enough that we can hear each other’s with ease.

We sit silently on the bed beside each other, not daring to ask for dinner.

Eventually, Naomi falls asleep, and I lie beside her, closing my eyes and trying to forget all about this day.

A day that should have been wonderful turned sour very quickly. It only confirms something I've known about myself for a long time: I'm not meant to have good things.