Setting the bottle down on the counter, I hurry over to the door and open it to find Wren.
Her face is blotchy and red from crying, and I consider booking a flight to Vancouver to go and teach Rick a lesson.
“I need the pictures,” Wren says, pushing past me into the apartment.
“The what?” I trail her into the living room where she flops on the couch, sitting right in the divot I left earlier. Ruby is by her side immediately.
“The pictures. The ones you drew on my back the night of the vote. I need them.”
I release a relieved breath, not because Wren is obviouslyin distress, but because she is and she came to me for help. She could have gone to see Poppy, but she’s here. I sit down on the couch next to her and gesture for her to turn with her back facing me. She does, and Ruby shifts with her, wanting only to be glued to her. Wren tucks her legs up so she’s sitting criss-cross, and Ruby lays her head in the triangle her legs form.
And I begin drawing.
I draw a waterfall with a swimming hole at the bottom.
I draw a field of wildflowers.
I draw an easel with a canvas that has a picture of a dog.
I draw all the things that have brought Wren joy in the last few weeks, and with each one, every time she guesses what the picture is, her shoulders drop a little bit more. Her breathing evens out, and she comes back to me.
“I quit my job,” she says finally, her tone calm, even, and heavy with acceptance.
“Okay,” I say, trying to keep my voice neutral, non-judgemental, open. “What made you decide to do that?”
Wren turns back and leans against the back of the couch, tilting her head so she’s staring up at the ceiling. Her hand never leaves Ruby’s head; it’s clearly grounding for her.
“I don’t know. I was on the phone with Rick while he read me the riot act about how I never should have left the arts centre design up to a vote. How those things never turn out well, and now we have this random hippy arts centre under our portfolio marring our prestigious reputation. And I was arguing with him, pushing back and telling him what this could mean for the company, trying to get him to see that I’m worthy of a promotion. Then it was like, I heardmyself, like I was having an out-of-body experience and I could hear how desperate I was for his approval.” Wren takes a pregnant pause, as if still grappling with how she ended up there in the first place. “Something came over me, and I thought, why do I even care? Then it hit me. I don’t. I don’t know if I ever have.”
I nod to show I’m still listening and trying to follow.
“I only went into engineering because my parents wanted me to. Every decision I have ever made in my career has been to prove something to them, or to one-up Claire. And here I am, I hate my job, I’m burnt out and stressed all the fucking time. I’m having panic attacks. My hair has been falling out.”
“God … I knew things were bad but…” I say, and she closes her eyes as if only now realizing how bad it is, too. I place my hand on the back of her head, stroking her silky-smooth hair, and lean in to kiss her forehead. When I pull back, I notice tears have collected on her lashes anew. “I never realized that’s why you chose to go away for school. I thought … Claire said …” I’m still grappling with this shift in my reality, this new revelation about how everything came to be. Wren’s eyes snap open and meet mine. She squints at me, irises burning.
“What did Claire say?” Her words are punctuated, and she stiffens in my arms again. I guess now I have no choice; it’s time to tell Wren my side of the story. I breathe out heavily through my nose, mouth forming a tight line while I formulate how I want to explain.
“When you left for school, I pined over you. God, I missed you so much. All I wanted to do was talk to you, plan your next visit home. I thought about you all the time. Thefirst weekend you were supposed to come home, the Friday morning?—”
“The day you ended things with me.” A sharp twinge needles at my ribs. I don’t like thinking about that day, even now. Even when Wren is right in front of me.
“Yes, the day I ended it,” I say grimly. It was also the day Wren decided she wouldn’t be coming back to Heartwood for the weekend, she needed space away from me. She never came back after that. “Claire showed up at my apartment. She gave me this speech about telling you to follow your dreams, to help you see what you wanted out of life, to not make the weekend about going back, but moving forward.”
A red-hot flush is spreading to Wren’s cheeks as she takes in what I’m saying, understanding Claire was a big reason why I broke up with her.
“It wasn’t Claire’s fault,” I cut in before Wren has the chance to go off on her sister. “She was cryptic in how she talked about you, about our relationship, but the message to me was clear. At the time, I felt like it was the reality I was avoiding all along. I wasn’t good enough for you. I was always going to stay in Heartwood. You needed to go and chase your dreams, without me standing in the way. And you had this stubbornness, this determination to change me, to make me into a person I couldn’t be for you. You never would have ended it if I hadn’t.”
“Because I love you.” Her voice breaks, and so does my heart. The only thing keeping it from shattering is that her use of the present tense of the word.
“I love you, too. You ruinedme, Miller. For anyone else, I was ruined. You were all I could think about. All I can thinkabout.” I can’t hide the wobble in my voice, and I don’t bother trying. “That’s why I needed to do what I did.”
“I didn’t mean to make you feel like you weren’t good enough for me when I left. You always were. I wanted to do everything with you. We were partners in crime. We promised each other forever.” Wren’s voice shakes as she explains her side of things. Whatever role she played in our breakup is a moot point now. “I thought you needed a little motivating. I’m so sorry I pushed you so hard.”
“Look, what Claire said was all true. I knew it, you knew it. We were on two separate paths, star-crossed lovers. I was never going to be what you needed, not back then,” I say. “She opened my eyes to it and helped me accept it.”
“I know you want to spare Claire in all this.” Wren puts up her hand, gesturing for me to stop. “You don’t need to defend her. She’s a big girl now, she was a big girl then, too.”
“I don’t want to cause a rift between you and Claire.”
