I’d devoured the articles online about what classified a girl from a woman and how they had to start menstruating to be called a proper adult.
My breasts ached and tingled.
My head crushed and pounded.
And my moods didn’t know if they wanted to be angry with the mess, rage at the pain, or be grateful that I was no longer a kid.
It was one of the longest days of my life, and I didn’t dare leave to get food because I couldn’t risk running into Patricia or John.
I loved food, but the embarrassment at how disgusting my clothes and bedding had become meant I didn’t move a muscle. I tortured myself with scenarios of Ren arriving home and seeing the bloodbath I lay in. Of him asking awful questions. Of him knowing that blood was coming out of me in places that I never wanted to discuss.
More tears came on the tailcoat of those thoughts, knowing I should get up, swallow some painkillers, and strip my bed and body of dirty things.
But the pain continued, and I just didn’t have the energy.
I didn’t know the time, but eventually the sound of Cassie’s Corolla crunched on the driveway, and I hunched deeper into my pillow.
Normally, she came into the barn before going into the house, looking for Ren and sometimes me to say hi before the routine of dinner and homework.
Perhaps, she’d forgo her usual visit today, and my nightmare would go unseen.
I held my breath, hoping against hope that she’d stay away while also a huge part of me wanted to be cared for, for another girl to help me, and to be told I wasn’t going to die with the amount of pain I was in.
Her footsteps sounded outside the bedroom door. Her gentle knock reverberating in my pounding my head. “Hello? Anyone home?”
I groaned under my breath, burrowing my head into my pillow, my face on fire and body in agony as she opened the door and found me.
“Oh, my God, Della.” She dashed toward me, dropping her messenger bag and cupping my face with her cool hands. She’d grown from the rebellious teenager I looked up to, to a confident young woman who I envied, and here she was, being kind to me.
I burst into tears as she dragged me into her arms.
I could tell you in graphic detail how she helped wash me, dress me, strip and remake my bed, feed me comforting yummy food, and fill me with painkillers, but I won’t bother. There’s no point because you won’t read this, and I don’t feel like living that particular part of my life any more than necessary.
By the time she sat me on the couch in her room with music posters and trophies won at horse shows and dressage competitions, I felt somewhat normal and listened intently to the lesson she gave on pads versus tampons and what to expect during my new cycle.
A closeness blossomed between us, and I’d never felt so in-tune with her.
She was my angel, and I’d never forget what she did for me.
By the time Ren returned, smelling of earth with dirt under his nails, my secret was hidden, my newfound womanhood none of his business, and now, for the first time, Cassie and I shared a smile that spoke of our own special secrets.
She didn’t tell anyone I hadn’t gone to school, and the next day, instead of heading to her uni classes, she took the day off and grabbed me as I forced myself out of bed.
I was still sore but nowhere near as bad.
“Is Ren gone?” she asked, looking around the messy one bedroom.
I nodded, struggling to get up the energy to haul on my school uniform. “Yep.”
“Good. Get dressed in your joddies and boots. You’re not going to school today.”
“I’m not?”
“Nope.” She grinned with her hair plaited with a ribbon similar to the one I wore every day. “My mum let me have three days off school when I had my first period. She bought me flowers and cakes and told me turning into a woman was something to be celebrated even though I wanted to yank out my womb and never have another one.”
I giggled softly, standing in my pyjamas with one of the pads she’d given me between my achy legs. “Me, too.”
Her eyes warmed. “You don’t want me to tell anyone, so it’s come down to me. I know you don’t really like the mall, so we’re gonna go for an all-day ride. I have a hot water bottle for your tummy in my saddlebag and lots of painkillers. I’m sure you probably don’t feel like it, but the doctors always say exercise and endorphins help the pain.”
She was so full of life and friendship that I couldn’t say no.
I didn’t want to say no.
This was Cassie accepting me as a friend not just as a younger nuisance, and she wanted to spend all day with me.
Needless to say, I loved her for that too. She let me ride my favourite of her horses—black and white Domino—and she rode her newest warmblood cross called Mighty Mo.
Armed with salad sandwiches and a slice of strawberry sponge cake, we headed off and spent the day riding, chatting, and being two simple girls sharing each other’s company.
It was one of my favourite days, despite the lingering ache in my belly.
As we rode, propriety fell away, and we giggled at crude things, gossiped about people at her uni, and generally didn’t care about right or wrong.
As our bond deviated from polite conversation to openness, more complicated topics filled my head. There were so many things I wanted to ask her, but embarrassment kept me silent.
That was, until she asked if I wanted to gallop over a rolling meadow after our lunch by the forest edge, and we’d ended up racing each other. Hair streaming beneath helmets, hands clutching reins, and legs tight against saddles.
The adrenaline hit me, making me giddy and chatty. Nothing was better than a gallop. I felt free. Not trapped by age or expectation. I was just Della, and she was just Cassie, and for once, we were equals.
She laughed as we slowed to a walk, rubbing her large breasts with a grimace. “These girls have been handy in the romance department, but holy shit, they hurt when riding.”
I blushed a little, looking at my flat chest. “I don’t have that problem.”
She smirked, eyeing me. “Don’t worry. Now that your periods have started, your breasts will grow almost overnight.”
“Really?”
“Yup.” She nodded wisely. “I went from surfboard to D’s. My dad was horrified when Mum took me shopping, and I came back with bras bigger than hers.”
I laughed under my breath, picturing all the upcoming trials of my life. Bras and tampons and girly stuff that I didn’t want Ren knowing about.
We rode a bit more before I had the courage to ask. “Do the boys mind your…eh. When you’re on your period, um…”
She raised her eyebrow. “Spit it out. I won’t tell anyone, and you can’t shock me. You should know that by now.”
“Okay.” I sat taller in my saddle. “Do boys care about periods? Like when you kiss them and stuff?”
“You mean can you have sex while on your period?”
My face flared.
I didn’t know if that was what I meant, but I nodded so I didn’t look stupid.
“I guess. I mean, some do. It’s not exactly fun. But some boys aren’t squeamish. It’s natural, after all. Not our fault we bleed once a month.”
I pouted. “Once a month is too often.”
“I agree.” Cassie sighed. “It does get in the way of some things, but tampons are great if you want to go swimming and stuff. And to be fair, a boy will normally stay clear ’cause of your mood swings, not just the blood.”
“Does Ren stay clear of your mood swings?”
She laughed. “He seems to stay clear of me a lot these days.” The sad wisp in her voice made me wince, partly because I was glad he avoided her and partly because I pitied her, because once you’d been graced by Ren’s affection, it was hard to have it taken away.
“I do miss him, but I’m with Chip, and things are going well, so I guess I can’t be greedy.”
Greed.
That sneaky little sin aga
in.
Questions exploded in my mind. Questions like ‘Am I greedy wanting things like what you have? What is it like? Is Ren a good kisser? How often did you do it?’
But each one of those questions was guaranteed to rip out my heart and leave it in the hoof prints of my horse.
I swallowed them down, only for Cassie to somehow sense them and blurt, “I have no one else to talk to about him. I’ve never told my friends that I’ve been with Ren because I didn’t want them thinking he was available, and I didn’t want the news getting back to my parents. But…” She flashed me a pained look. “I really like him. Like…I think I might be in love with him. Stupid, right?” She laughed and sighed at the same time. “When he’s with me, he gives me his full attention, but getting him to that stage…it’s hard work. It’s like there’s always something else on his mind, stealing his heart.” She glowered at the reins in her hands. “Almost as if he’s searching for something else, and I’m not it.”
I sat deathly silent in my saddle.
Not even the sway of Domino’s steady walk or the increasing ache between my legs now that the painkillers had worn off could distract me from the bitter sweetness of finally getting answers I’d begged for all while hoping I didn’t get anymore.
“Have you kissed a boy, Della?”
I sucked in a gasp even as my head answered for me with a sharp shake, lying.
She smiled. “I envy you. That first kiss is the best.”
“I…I kissed Liam once.”
“Did you?! Oh, my God!” She burst out laughing. “Oh, wait. Is that when Mum got super mad and made Liam recite every body part so he knew what each did?” She laughed harder. “That’s too funny.”
I hunched. “I didn’t find it funny. It wasn’t good, and his worm…I mean…anyway.” I shrugged. “I want to kiss someone soon. I’m a woman now. I should know what it feels like.”
She flicked her plait over her shoulder, her ribbon fluttering like mine in the breeze. “Well, my suggestion is to kiss someone you love with all your heart. Don’t settle for a cheap thrill. Save it for the person who means the world to you.”
That advice, right there…did you see it?
Did you understand what my young foolish heart heard?
If you didn’t…you soon will.
Cassie continued, “Sex isn’t something to be done with just anyone, you know? You have to trust them impeccably. Love them. Want them. Believe in them. Know that they will never hurt you and always have your back. Okay?”
I nodded, still obsessing over her previous advice on who to kiss.
There was only one person I loved that much.
One boy who meant the absolute universe to me.
Doing my best to stop runaway thoughts, I asked the stupidest question I could’ve asked, “What was it like…sleeping with Ren?”
Her eyes narrowed, her breath inhaled, and she studied me for an eternity before admitting, “The best I’ve ever had.”
I should’ve stopped there.
I should’ve known that something wasn’t quite right with me that I wanted explicit details on the man who’d raised me.
I should’ve known nothing good could come from taboo conversation and dealing with amplified emotions while on my period.
So many reasons to stop.
I wanted to stop.
But this was adult territory, and I was an adult now.
I could handle it.
I could handle the filthy feeling inside at asking about Ren.
I could handle the strange greed, envy, and unfurling lust, even though all three emotions should’ve been massive alarm bells that I was broken in many ways. That I was on the precipice of doing something forbidden and disgusting and wrong.
But…I had no willpower.
And I’d been waiting for honesty like this all my life.
“How was it the best?” My voice was small, afraid, already hurting.
Cassie tore her eyes from mine as her hand found its way into her horse’s mane and twirled the black strands. “How?”
“Uh-huh…”
Tell me.
Don’t tell me.
Ruin me.
Don’t ruin me.
“Because Ren has never been a boy. Even when he was younger, he was braver, stronger, more attractive than any of the boys who think they’re men but are still just silly little children. He carries this melancholy melody inside him that just makes me want to protect him and have him protect me at the same time. When he touches me, it’s like fire. When he kisses me, it’s like drowning. When he pushes me down and thrusts inside me, it’s like falling into space, trusting him to never let you go, all the while hoping he will let you fall and then fall right along with you.”
Her voice dwindled away with longing. “He’s aggressive in all the right ways. He’s dominating and generous and ruthless and…” She shrugged helplessly. “Sleeping with Ren is the best thing I’ve ever done because he doesn’t just live to deliver pleasure but because he gives so much of himself when he does. He has his secrets. He has his moods. But when he’s in your arms…that’s when he lets himself be seen. His kisses are full of tragedy. His touches are full of sorrow. And when he comes…wow…” She looked at the sky full of sunset-pink clouds. “He breaks your heart every damn time because he’s everything you could ever want and everything you’ll never have because Ren is wild. He’s untouchable. And the knowledge that he’ll always be that way tears off a piece of your soul, letting him steal it. He pockets it like his secrets, and he carves a hole inside you until you ache for one tiny piece of his in return.”
She sighed with all the pain she felt and all the matching misery I was about to cause. “I’m in love with him, and he doesn’t even notice. He doesn’t care because whatever he cares about isn’t me, and I’m done trying to be what he wants when I doubt even he knows. It’s just…it’s the perfect combination of grief and bliss, I guess. And I stupidly became addicted to it…just like I became addicted to him.”
Now, I’m sure I’ve embellished what she said to me that day.
I’ve added flair that creative writing has taught me and put phrases into Cassie’s mouth that an Equine Science student probably would never say.
I also, maybe, probably, put in my own bittersweet knowledge, because I understand her now. I might not have slept with Ren, but I know her pain. I recognise her craving because such catastrophe lives within me.
Of course, I didn’t know that then. But…that’s how I heard it.
I listened to a tortured tale of unrequited love and fell for it.
I’d never heard something so beautiful as being told Ren was unclaimable while in another woman’s arms, and it sent my stupid adolescent heart wondering if I would be different.
If I was what he was searching for.
If he was what I was searching for.
If all of this was for a reason, a purpose, an ending that would complete whatever journey we were on.
It cracked open the blinders I’d had on all my life and gave me a glimpse at the man behind the boy.
The man I’d caught myself staring at.
The man I’d dreamt about.
The man who was my everything and would now become the reason for every tortured day thereafter.
I’ve loved Ren Wild all my life.
But it wasn’t until Cassie Wilson ripped back the curtain that I fell in love with him.
I fell into the idea of him.
I fell into the idea of being his.
And unfortunately, once that idea was formed…there was no going back.
As we rode into the farm as dusk fell and Ren appeared from the stable with his reserved smile, tanned skin, and perfect love, I tore my gaze from his dark soulful eyes. As he asked about our ride and helped untack our horses, I kept my thoughts buried and my body averted from his hugs.
And when night-time descended, I lay in bed mulling over Cassie’s words.
Over and over again.
r /> Ruining myself, condemning myself until I had no other path to take.
“Well, my suggestion is to kiss someone you love with all your heart. Don’t settle for a cheap thrill. Save it for the person who means the world to you.”
In bold, it looks just as bad as my last confession of being in love with Ren Wild.
Her advice wasn’t meant to be taken the way I took it.
She didn’t mean to kiss the only boy I’d ever known.
She didn’t mean to set in action something that I’d regret for the rest of my life.
I knew that then, and I know that now.
But did it stop me?
Of course not.
CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
REN
* * * * * *
2013
DELLA HAD BEEN out of sorts for the past few days.
I tried to ignore it and give her space. I trusted that if it was important, she’d tell me, and if it wasn’t, then I didn’t want to pry.
However, the day after she got back from her ride with Cassie, she was standoffish and strange. She refused to eat dinner with me. She gave me her back the moment she slipped into bed. She didn’t want to watch TV or study or do anything that involved spending time with me.
I tried not to be hurt by her behaviour, but I lay awake most of the night missing my best friend and wondering how the hell I could fix what I’d most assuredly broken because her mood must be my fault.
Why else did she hate me?
By the time the next afternoon rolled around, I finished early, had a shower so I didn’t smell of sweat and earth, and used the Wilson’s barbecue to make Della’s favourite: honey covered yams with brown sugar and soy sauce roasted chicken. I even threw on a few foil-wrapped bananas with maple syrup, indulging in her sweet tooth on all three elements of the meal.
When she returned from school, she gave me a weird smile, opened her mouth as if to say something, then darted into our bedroom.
She returned a little while later with blonde hair dark and damp down her back from a shower, and a turquoise summer dress with a heavy knit cream jumper to ward off the spring evening chill.
I cleared my throat. “I made us dinner.”