Chapter 8
SAMANTHA
Sleep has done funny things to me lately, and tonight is no exception. I dream that I’m out in the woods, in the middle of the storm. I hear Colin calling my name but I run away from him. I’m clawing my way towards the ranch, trying to escape Colin’s voice, and the cold and the relentless rain that’s beating me into the ground. I’m moving far too slowly and water is filling my mouth with every inch that I move. I know, somehow, that I’ll die if I stay out here.
I hear the sound of hooves approaching. When I look up, it’s Weston on his horse. He’s soaked through, his white t-shirt clinging to the curves of his lean body. His pants are so wet that they look like leather when he hops down from his horse and heads towards me. I can’t help being attracted to this hero on his horse, my knight in shining armor.
He scoops me up in his arms and hoists me up onto the horse. The dream is so vivid that I feel the moment when he gets on the horse, his chest pressed against my back. And before I know it, we’re riding towards the ranch, so fast that my surroundings become a blur. But still, the feeling of Weston’s body against mine is clear as day. It sends shivers down my spine, knowing he’s so close to me.
But there’s a figure waiting for us at the ranch. I can’t see who it is, but I get the sense that they’re bad news. Weston’s grip on me grows stronger, but now, I’m too distressed to care. Because when we arrive at the ranch stables, I see that it’s Colin, grinning at me. He laughs as I grip the horse’s reins helplessly. There’s nowhere to run.
And then I realize that Weston is no longer behind me. Colin keeps laughing, tears streaming out of his eyes as though he’s watching the world’s best comedy movie. And then, before I can open my mouth to call to Weston, the horse disappears beneath me and I’m sent plummeting down, down, down…
I wake, gasping for air as though someone has closed a fist around my lungs. I’m drenched in sweat and close to tears. It’s one of those moments where I can’t figure out why the dream upset me so much - it meant nothing. And yet it meant everything. It showed me how quickly everything good can disappear from your life. It shows how easy it is for a dream to become a nightmare. Because even though it was just a dream, it’s also the nature of my current reality.
I’m too distressed to go back to sleep, so I jump in the shower, relishing the hot water on my skin. It makes me feel a little better, but now I’m far too awake to get back to sleep. Besides, the idea of having further nightmares doesn’t appeal to me at all. I sit on the bed helplessly for a while, wishing I had my book with me. There’s nothing in here to do, and I’m sick of being alone with my thoughts. I could brave walking back to the hotel, but after my earlier experience, I realize walking in the dark is an especially terrible idea. No, I’ll have to wait until morning. But I need something to do until then.
I check the clock on my bedside table. It’s almost midnight. I suspect Madeline will have left by now, and Weston must be in bed, surely? Nervously, I find the dressing gown that Madeline left out for me and put it on, wrapping it tightly around my body before heading downstairs.
I’m as quiet as possible, trying not to disturb the sleeping household, but it doesn’t take me long to realize I’m not the only one battling insomnia tonight. When I arrive in the living room, I find Weston sitting there, sipping on mulled wine in front of the fireplace. He glances up as I enter. His eyes are a little vacant - I can only assume he’s had one glass too many. For the first time, he offers me a smile that doesn’t seem entirely insincere.
“Good evening,” he slurs slightly, grinning at me. “Care to join me for a drink?”
I want to say no. The dream I just had has shaken me up a little. The last thing I want is to sit with this man and be ridiculed by him. But he seems different right now. Less on guard than he seemed to be before. Perhaps this is an opportunity to make amends. Then, in the morning I can leave here without any bad feelings between us. I can use all the friendly vibes I can get after what happened with Colin.
I force a smile, sitting down beside Weston on the couch. He pours me a glass of the wine and I sip it delicately, almost shivering as the fruitiness and heat hit me. Weston’s eyes are closed as he drinks more.
“Well, I wasn’t expecting company tonight...I may have had a few too many,” Weston says. I snort quietly.
“Understatement,” I mumble. Weston’s eyes snap open. I expect him to be angry, but there’s a glint in his gaze.
“She talks!” he says. “I was starting to think you’d gone mute. You barely said a word at dinner.”
I fumble for a defense, an excuse for my behavior, but Weston holds his hand up to stop me from going any further.
“It’s alright. I know I didn’t make you feel very welcome. Madeline made sure I felt bad about it.”
I blush. So they were talking about me after I went up to bed? I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. I literally made the most dramatic entrance to their house possible - unconscious after being caught out in a storm and ridden in on horseback. I couldn’t be more self-conscious right now.
“I really appreciate you guys taking me in...I know I’ve been a nuisance to you, but it was really good of you to help me out.”
Weston’s face softens a little. “Well...you’re welcome. You don’t have to thank me. Anyone would have done the same.”
I shift in my seat. “Actually, I don’t think they would. I’m not sure I would host a stranger in my house. And...and I guess I’ve come to realize lately that even the people you think the most of don’t always think the most of you.”
Weston raises his eyebrow. “Oh yeah? Sounds like you’re harboring some pretty bitter feelings there.”
I sip my wine. “Aren’t we all bitter about something?”
Weston looks down at his hands. For the first time, I realize he’s wearing a wedding ring. I cringe to myself. I’ve literally just been dreaming of a married man. How much more embarrassing can I get?
“Well, that’s definitely true,” he says, still staring at the ring. I frown. He’s sending some pretty mixed messages. Is he divorced? And if so, why does he still wear his ring?
I get the feeling I’m not about to find out any time soon. If ever. After all, I doubt he and I will be pen pals after this. As he drains his glass, it occurs to me how different we both are. I’ve never clashed with someone the way I did when I met him. But at least not one second with him has been boring. I decide that while we’re here, we may as well open up a little. I take a deep breath.
“My fiancé left me,” I blurt out. Weston’s eyebrows arch even higher. I guess he didn’t expect me to surprise him quite this much with my talk.
“Really? Why is that?”
I drink some more of my wine. “Our wedding was meant to be a few weeks ago. He...he left me a note in the morning of our wedding. He...he went off with his best man.”
It takes Weston several seconds to catch on to my meaning. “Oh...oh my.” Then he bursts into laugher.
I grimace. Weston bites his lip, then takes my glass from my hand, refilling it with the luscious wine.
“I’m sorry. That wasn’t nice of me at all,” Weston says gently. He almost sounds sympathetic. I take a deep breath, avoiding his eyes.
“No worries, I would laugh out loud too if it hadn’t happened to me. Well, it is what it is. At least I know it’s not something I did...but I was so happy with him. I thought that the bliss would never end.” I snort to myself, shaking my head. “How could I be so stupid? To think I could ever trust someone that much…”
For once, Weston has nothing to say for himself. I continue drinking my wine until my glass is empty once more. Silently, Weston provides a refill.
“It wasn’t just the love he took from me, though. He took away my job - I couldn’t go back to work knowing I would see him there every day. He took the friends we shared from me. He took my pride and my dignity and threw it in the trash.” I’m trembling now, trying to avoid looking at Weston. I don’t want to see the pity in his eyes.
“This was meant to be our honeymoon,” I tell him, my voice cracking. “We were going to go hiking...he wanted to do it because he knew it would make me happy. Even though, apparently, that was never really a priority of his at all.”
There are angry tears streaming down my cheeks now. Weston stares at me in horror, not knowing what to do to help. After a few moments, he places his hand on my arm. I almost recoil, so unused to being touched by someone else than Colin that it feels wrong. But to my surprise, as the effects of the wine settle in, it begins to feel good. Too good...I glance up at Weston and notice that his own eyes are a little cloudy.
“I’m sorry that happened to you,” he says gently. “Marriage...it can be very beautiful.”
He looks down at his hand, still rested on my arm. Then, without warning, he tugs his grip from me. I almost spill my wine in shock. He seems shocked too, as though my skin burned him.
“But on the other hand…” he says quietly. “It can completely destroy you.”
I’m breathless from this conversation. How did it turn so heavy so quickly? The wine has gone straight to my head. Clearly, it’s had a similar effect on Weston. I don’t understand why I opened up to him, a complete stranger, and I for sure wasn’t expecting such a strong reaction about marriage from him at all. What could happen to him?
Weston seems to realize he’s said too much. He staggers to his feet, blinking several times as though to wake himself up. He puts down his glass, taking a deep breath.
“I should get some sleep,” he says, more to himself than to me. “Stay up as long as you like...goodnight.”
He nods at me before turning on his heel and leaving the room. I’m in shock, sinking further into the sofa. I can barely believe how this panned out.
What is Weston doing to me?