Redefining Us: A Reclusive Novel

by Harloe Rae

  When I thought he was pushing me away again, I got a little defensive before downplaying my raging emotions. I went overboard with the beef jerky. Xander probably thinks I’m losing my marbles and he wouldn’t be far off.

  I’ll be so relieved if he lowers his guard enough for us to truly know each other again. I won’t be so moody and unstable around him once we have more common ground. That is what bothers me the most about all of this, as selfish as that sounds. I desperately miss my best friend and I want our connection back. Obviously I want so much more than that but I figure we can start slow. If we can build the trust back, maybe I’ll be comfortable finally confessing my love for him.

  Maybe I’m being too pushy and forward with my actions but if I’m not, Xander would probably go back to total isolation. I cannot let that happen. Even though all this unpredictability it’s making me mental, I can tell I’m helping him by being here.

  I’m standing outside while Xander finishes whatever he’s doing inside. I’m eager to get going and hopefully resolve some of this excessive stress that is constantly bubbling under my skin. The barriers between us are problematic but our connection is stronger. I need to be patient though our status is complicated and complex. For starters, I didn’t even know how long I was invited to stay.

  I look up as Xander slams the door and stomps down the rickety steps. Once he’s by my side, I can practically see the nerves rippling off him. What a perplexing pair we make. Both of us all flustered and hectic since we no longer have the effortless ease between us.

  “Where to, boss man?”

  Boss man? Seriously?

  Face meet palm. I’m internally bashing myself as soon as the words are out of my mouth but I’ve always owned my quirks. Xander used to like that about me. My goofiness only gets worse when I’m worried, which is probably some unconscious coping strategy. Xander better speak up and save me from myself.

  He snorts and shakes his head.

  Maybe I broke the tension a bit.

  “Let’s head that way.” He waves his hand toward some random destination over his left shoulder. “There’s a path to a place I think you’ll enjoy.”

  We stand there for an awkward moment, neither of us making the first move. I stare up into his amazing blue eyes and wait him out. Soon enough Xander steps out of the way and motions me forward.

  Such a gentleman. I can only hope he’ll check out my butt while he’s back there.

  My inner monologue is so cheesy as those ridiculous words scroll through my mind. I’m startled out of my musings when Xander clasps his hand around mine. Holy crap, I think my heart is about to beat out of my chest. He actually initiated contact! This is huge. What does this mean?

  I’m going to overanalyze the crap out of this.

  I try to take a sneak peek at Xander out of the corner of my eye but he’s already looking my way. My entire body heats up as tingles spread from head to toe. I feel the traitorous pink blossom on my cheeks, efficiently exposing my sheer delight. I’m so giddy over such a simple gesture but I’ve been waiting years for Xander to causally hold my hand.

  “Is this okay?” He asks while holding our joined hands up. He sounds so vulnerable and stares at me with such longing. He’s being honest and open, which shines from his stunning irises. It causes a swarm of butterflies to erupt in my belly.

  I’m nodding like a fool before I can get the words out. “Yes. Of course. I like it a lot, Xander.” My voice is a breathy rasp that belongs in the bedroom. Gosh, I’m a hot mess. At least he doesn’t catch on to my giddy-girl struggle. I need to get my head in the game because this is all about Xander.

  It’s hard to tell with all that facial hair in the way but I swear a ghost of a smile just graced Xander’s lips. Tears blur my vision momentarily at the flurry of emotion this man has been revealing today. My long-kept secret almost bursts from my lips but I clamp my jaw shut. Instead I focus on supporting him through this awful stage of traumatic grief.

  Our boots crunch through the snow as we continue on our expedition. White decorates almost every surface, which creates an angelic setting. It matches the soothing silence that can only be found far from the city. It is very beautiful and peaceful. I can definitely see the appeal of living out here. I appreciate the natural beauty surrounding us from all sides. Xander could be using the expansive wilderness to hide but I hope he’s getting more out of it than that.

  We duck under a few trees and cut through some rough terrain before Xander pulls me to a stop. He’s brought me to a type of clearing in the center of the woods and it takes my breath away for a moment.

  The trees provide shelter from the elements so the ground is fairly free of winter slush. Colorful leaves decorate the forest floor and it reminds me of a fall themed rainbow. A narrow stream flows nearby and offers a delicate acoustic tone. It all molds together to create the perfect escape from harsh reality. I totally get it. If I were a photographer, I would dedicate an entire exhibit just to this serene space.

  Xander releases my hand and steps over to a large shrub. I miss the connection instantly. He pulls a chair from under the branches and shakes off the debris. That’s super random but a perfect topic to begin a discussion.

  “Xander, this place is amazing. Seriously. Do you come out here often? And what’s with the chair?” I stammer slightly, since I’m not sure what to expect.

  He plops the seat down and motions for me to sit.

  “I consider this my solace. It’s a great spot to collect my runaway thoughts and just be still for awhile. I get a semblance of normal. If I have to discuss uncomfortable shit, I would prefer being somewhere I like.” Xander’s tone already holds an edge and I’m concerned about his willingness to share much.

  “This doesn’t have to be a huge deal. I didn’t mean to put pressure on you. I really think talking about it will help but you don’t need to tell me anything.” I can tell he’s anxious and I want to soothe his nerves, yet I really want him to push past these barriers so we can move forward.

  “We can start slow, Xander. Let’s not talk about the army or your time overseas. Obviously that’s too much. Will you tell me about your tattoo?” I ask the question easily. I could be opening a painful can of worms by asking but I’m dying of curiosity.

  When my words register, Xander’s face pales and his mouth gapes slightly. As though it’s an absolute surprise I want to know about his ink of all things. I thought it was a safe subject to address but maybe not. He should be aware of my burning need to know why he chose that skillfully gnarled tree. My body hums with fire as I recall the tangled pattern adorning his immaculate right side.

  Xander fidgets uncomfortably for a second, his hands curling into tight fists before easing open again. His forehead furrows as a grimace covers his face. His lips open a few times as if to speak but then he closes them again. It’s all up to him and what he wants to admit.

  He takes a deep breath in preparation and forces a loud exhale past his lips. Xander tips his face toward the sky before pulling the pin from the grenade.

  “The design is a tribute to the only girl I’ve ever loved.”

  * * *

  Once I confess the truth about my tattoo, I know it’s the right choice. A huge weight has lifted off my straining shoulders. That is until Willow starts choking.

  Her top half folds over her legs as she gasps for breath. Thankfully she doesn’t fall out of the chair. I approach her slowly to offer a pat on the back but she wildly swats me away with the hand not clutching her throat.

  I knew if I didn’t blurt out my secret, I wouldn’t tell Willow. It would continue to be one of the many roadblocks separating us. I just didn’t anticipate she’d react quite so strongly.

  I stand back and watch her struggle for a few minutes. It gives me a chance to evaluate our complicated shit. I know how closed off and guarded I am but I’m not opposed to letting her hang around. Not anymore. I enjoy Willow’s company too much already and I don’t want to send her packing. It’l
l come back to bite me but I couldn’t care less right now.

  My focus remains on Willow’s heaving form as she slows her breathing. She lifts her head to glare at me and I notice tears in her eyes.

  Fuck. Were those caused from emotions or the hacking?

  “What the heck, Xander? How do you just toss that declaration out willy-nilly? Seriously? You barely freaking talk to me and now you’re confessing something like that?!” Willow spits the words out like they taste bad. I can’t remember a time she’s ever been mad like this.

  She leaps from her seat and begins pacing frantically. Her hands flail about as she continues her rant. “I don’t even know what to say. How do I respond to that, Xander? I’m so freaking frustrated with you! I mean, why didn’t you tell me before? Why?” Willow’s steps abruptly stop and she turns to face me.

  “Wait. The design is a willow tree, right? I’m not making wild assumptions right? Holy crap, Xander. Tell me I’m not being crazy!” Her eyes glow as they widened in horror.

  Damn, she’s so fucking sexy.

  How could there ever be anyone but her? I’ve been obsessed with her since we were in middle school. We were always together and I guzzled down every drop of attention she gave me. My eyes were constantly tracking her whenever she was near. My heart sped up as she would approach me. The words that would have explained my feelings were never said but she could have figured it out.

  Since Willow has been staying with me, she is all I think about. She’s the reason the fucking ghosts have stopped haunting me incessantly. Bright light has gracefully infiltrated my pitch-black existence and I’ll never be able to repay her for bringing me back from the ledge.

  Can she seriously think I had some other girl in mind when I got my tattoo? I have to end that ridiculous train of thought right the fuck now.

  I close the distance between us in a few long strides. When I’m close enough to touch, I gave her more honesty. “I think you know the answer to that, Willow. You’re not being crazy, unless you actually believe I’d admit to loving someone else.” My voice is gruff yet soft.

  I can’t stop from touching her in some small way. I gently push some hair from her face and caress her cheek with the back of my fingers when I pull away. Willow trembles and peers up at me from under her lashes. She better not try getting shy on me now.

  “I’ve never been good with expressing how I feel and I’m really shit at it now. Just know, even through all the pain and suffering, you were always with me as a reminder. On my darkest days, your memory was there to yank me back from the breaking point,” I whisper against her lips. Willow’s breathe stutters as she sways in my grasp.

  She sucks at the corner of her mouth and the tease is enough to snap my restraint.

  I crush my mouth to hers while hooking my hands under her thighs. In the next instant, I have WIllow’s back against a nearby tree as I eagerly stroke her tongue with mine. Our bodies fit together effortlessly, which only adds to my rapidly building arousal. Willow is everything I’ve been missing these past three years.

  We’re fueled purely by desire for several moments. Clutching fingers, rocking hips, and panting moans. I’m quickly getting absorbed into this woman as my body melds with hers. Willow is silky and soft in contrast to my jagged edges so the combination is fucking electric. I never want the heat under my skin to quit burning.

  Just when I think Willow wants me to fuck her in these woods, she pushes against my shoulder and withdraws her mouth from our heated connection.

  Damn.

  “Wait. Hold on a second, Xander. I want to hear the story.” Her tone holds a hint of a groan as I rock into her.

  She wants to talk?

  Now?

  “What story?” I ask while sucking her earlobe between my teeth. Willow leans into me and digs her heels into my ass. Maybe I can convince her to give up the chitchat.

  Willow pulls away from me again even though I attempt to keep her locked in my embrace. “The tattoo. I want the details. You’re not getting out of this. No matter how tempting the alternative.” Her stare reflects her unwavering determination.

  My forehead drops to her shoulder as I exhale a loud sigh, trying to cool the fuck down. Damn, this girl has all the control but I couldn’t really care less. Willow owns my sorry ass.

  I unwind her legs from my hips and slowly ease her to the ground. I drop a chaste kiss to her lips before stepping out of her hold. I scratch at my beard and fidget with the hem of my shirt. I can’t stall forever.

  “All right. I don’t think there’s much to share but you can be the judge.” I’ve never been able to talk to anyone about my time overseas but telling Willow doesn’t seem like such a huge undertaking.

  I take a deep breath and continue, “Being deployed really sucked, especially at first. There isn’t a way to explain it to someone that hasn’t experienced it, but just know I had a really tough time adjusting.

  “Everything is so fucking different over there. It’s lonely and scary and you never know what could happen. Living through that shit changes you. I tried so damn hard to stay strong, especially for you, but there were times I wanted to give up.

  “Before I bonded with the guys in my troop,” my throat locks up at the mention of my fallen brothers. It makes my chest constrict but I grit my teeth and push past it. “I was by myself a lot. I thought about you constantly, Willow. I would close my eyes and picture you. I don’t know why I never told you how I felt. It seems so fucking foolish now. Maybe things could have been different.”

  I sound fucking defeated even though Willow is standing right in front of me. I suppose it still doesn’t seem possible.

  Will I ever believe she wants to be here willingly?

  Willow looks like a fallen angel that I’ve corrupted. Leaves are scattered in her chocolate hair but the strands still shine in the sun. Her plump lips are swollen and tempting me to ditch story time, but her beautiful green eyes are pleading with me to keep going. I’m a slave to her silent demand so I comply easily.

  “One stupid night, a group of us went out drinking. I got shitfaced and that just made me miss you even more. I started jabbering on about you and one of my friends put the idea in my head to get some ink. It sounded like a good plan and I knew exactly what I wanted.

  “I’ve shown you plenty of my random drawings over the years but never the ones dedicated to you. I have pages filled with willow trees and different things that remind me of you. Since I was a sappy shit, I carried around a favorite piece. We strolled into the parlor, I handed the paper over, sat down, and the artist went to work.”

  I swallow hard at the memory of the dull ache the needle caused while digging into my skin. I recall smirking like a tool imagining Willow’s reaction when she discovered my ultimate commitment. The reality was drastically opposite. I shove my hands deep into my pockets and find the courage to finish this.

  “I woke up the next morning with a killer hangover and my entire right side was throbbing. When I looked at the tattoo, I smiled for the first time in weeks.”

  “I sound like such a loser but it made me feel like you were there with me, Willow. In the worst place on Earth, I had a radiant companion by my side, keeping me safe.

  “It doesn’t seem like it but I was still relying on you, on the memory of you, every single day. Until you showed up. It’s messed up because I treated you like shit but I didn’t know how to handle actually seeing you again. The past several days have been a disaster but I don’t regret anything because you’re still here.” I clear my throat after the final word. My guts have been spilled all over this forest so I’m feeling pretty damn vulnerable.

  I sound like a pussy-whipped bitch but I’ll accept the repercussions. I won’t give her a watered down version. She wants to hear the truth so she better be able to handle it.

  Willow is quietly assessing me and my chest begins to tighten as the anxiety creeps in. There is a dull throb piercing through my skull and tremors cause my fingers to shake. The g
ates I just opened are threatening to slam shut. I don’t want to regret my words but I’m beginning to wonder if I went too far. I don’t know what I’ll do if she rejects my dumbass.

  While I’m busy warring with myself, Willow finally speaks, and her question is the one I’ve been dreading.

  * * *

  “Why didn’t you write me, Xander?”

  The entire time he was speaking, I kept circling back to the same freaking question. If he cared so much, missed me so terribly, then why didn’t he contact me?

  The day we parted three years ago burns brightly in my mind.

  He promised me.

  To find out he constantly thought of me yet didn’t reach out, pours salt in my open wounds.

  Xander stands motionless in front of me for several moments after the question leaves my mouth. If he knows me at all, which he dang well should, he knew that question was coming. I waited for those letters daily but they never came. No correspondence of any kind. The distance between us emotionally slowly began to match the physical space. It broke my heart but I wasn’t in control of it. I had no address or way to contact him. Xander needed to reach out first and he never did.

  Don’t get me wrong, I went all mushy inside for a hot minute when Xander admitted his long time affection. But then confusion plowed over the joy and my brain was scrambled over the stunning admission just laid at my feet. I’m so baffled, the moment I’ve been waiting for–for years–has a tainted hue.

  Xander loved me? That news has a chorus of angels, serenading me with heavenly hymns, taking up real estate in my soul. I am freaking ecstatic.

  Xander loved me but not connecting with me for three years? Yeah, I want to go bang my head against the nearby tree. I think about all the wasted chances that I let slip by as well, which only makes me feel worse.