When school was back in session, she held no excitement for her new classes. After the first week of the semester, she decided not to return.
“Wendy, you can’t simply give up,” her mother cajoled, but there was no plucky, can-do attitude that would change her mind.
“I’ve made my decision.”
“You’re being hasty.”
“I’m not. I know what I want and what I don’t want.”
University was not an experience she needed to have in order to feel like her life held value. Nor was a hymen or a husband, for that matter.
“This stubborn side of yours is not going to win people over.”
“I don’t care about winning people over, Mother.” She was learning to trust her instincts. “Why does every choice I make have to impact others?”
“Because it does.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
“As long as you’re in this family under this roof, it does.” Her mother left in another frustrated huff.
It seemed much easier to free a bird from its cage than cajole it back inside. Her parents were growing tired of her combative attitude. But she couldn’t return to being the miserable, agreeable girl she once was. Not at the expense of her happiness.
Wendy knew she was more than the sum of other people’s opinions and was only interested in discovering her true self now that she’d freed her shadow. In her free time, she cleaned the nursery, throwing away old keepsakes that no longer held meaning and making space for whatever her future might be.
Ultimately, all that remained were her favorite clothes, a few pieces of jewelry, and James’ coat, which she refused to burn. Sometimes, late at night, she’d put the coat on over her nightgown and stare out her window at the moon, wondering if—wherever James was—he could also see the stars.
Her worry never relented when she thought of him. She imagined him healed because the alternative was too horrible to bear.
There would have been no saving his hand—a severe loss that would have frustrated him to no end but not impacted his authority. James’s influence over others came from within. He wore his confidence like armor, and he would not allow such a loss to hinder his hard-earned pride.
But who was taking care of him in private? His conceit was an obstacle that would impede others from seeing to his needs.
She only hoped men like Gideon Starr loved their fierce captain enough to see past the gripes and growls. James would be profoundly hurt after his brother’s wretched betrayal and a beast to deal with for a very long time.
Late one night, when she couldn’t sleep, she wandered the nursery, fluttering anxiously like a wild bird in a cage. The longer she paced from wall to wall, the more restless she became.
James believed it was a choice to be caged, and cages came in many forms.
With nowhere to go, she tried to free the buzzing energy inside her in other ways. Her fingers trailed over her chest, mimicking the entitled way he’d touched her. She ached to feel his hands on her again, to go to that place where only James could take her, the place where her inhibitions died, and pleasure was king.
She pressed her fingers between her legs, picturing James looking down at her as he pushed her outside of her comfort zone and into that divine place where only they existed.
She imagined his voice whispering close to her ear as his breath tickled the tiny hairs on her neck. “I can set you free…”
“Yes,” she rasped, closing her eyes to envision his possessive hands on her as she slipped her fingers inside of her heat.
Her breath quickened as she slowly fingered herself, desperately trying to drive herself to the place of freedom and pleasure only he could take her.
“That’s a good little slut…” Her fingers pumped faster. “Let Daddy take care of you…” But the pleasure receded before she got to that place where a woman sang to the stars.
Bunching her fists in defeat, on the verge of tears, she growled in frustration.
She couldn’t breathe here. She was miserable. Alone. Incomplete.
Maybe James was right. Perhaps it was better to struggle than to be forced to live a life as someone you’re not. This nursery, this house, this life… None of it fit anymore.
The damage was done. Living a quiet life would not erase the rumors. Those stories would follow her for the rest of her life, because some people had nothing better to do.
