The Rennillia Series: Volumes 1-5

by M. Sembera

  I turned the corner and faced the blacked out glass door. I stood up tall as I tapped on it. A minute passed before the door cracked open and HE stuck HIS head out.

  With a stomach turning grin, HE asked, “Miss me?”

  Clearing my throat, I snapped, “Gross,” before ordering, “Let me in.”

  HE made an unpleasant sound as HE said, “You’re pretty sexy when you’re trying to be tough.”

  I walked in and HE locked the door behind me.

  “I need to meet with Salvador, Friday,” I stated with a dead stare.

  Almost as if, just HIS uncle’s name put HIM back in line, HE asked, “When and where?”

  “Here at ten in the morning,” I replied.

  HE instantly refused, “No.” Before I could argue, HE growled, “My uncle doesn’t come here.”

  Narrowing my eyes at HIM, I offered, “Okay, but I need a place that’s public that Hert won’t know about.”

  With a grim expression, HE suggested, “The Diner I took you to.”

  Nodding, I agreed, “At ten.”

  Having made my appointment with Salvador, I turned waiting for HIM to let me out. Slowly, I could feel him stepping closer.

  “I know you miss me,” HE said in a vile whisper as I felt HIS breath on the back of my neck.

  I could feel my mouth start to water and I thought, I might actually throw up. Then suddenly, I saw Jackson on the other side of the door.

  Taking a deep breath, I ordered, “Open the door, now.”

  HE took a step back.

  Placing HIS hand over the lock, HE drew a breath in through HIS teeth and shared, “I like it when you get all feisty,” before informing, “Smart, bringing your little boyfriend but I don’t always follow the rules.”

  Clearing my throat, I glared at HIM as HE flashed a wicked grin and let me out.

  Avoiding eye contact with Jackson, I walked right past him and headed between the buildings. I jerked back when I felt a hand on my shoulder. Startled, it took me a second to realize it was Jackson following close behind. Slowly inhaling and exhaling, I admitted to myself HE had put me on edge.

  Grabbing hold of me and hugging me tight, Jackson asked, “Are you okay?”

  Nodding, I thought ‘I am now’, as I hugged him back.

  “I have a meeting Friday at ten with Salvador,” I shared as I let go and headed back to the car.

  We made it to the car and after getting back in, we drove to The Store.

  Jackson parked outside The Store then turned to me saying, “I don’t want you to go meet with Salvador by yourself.”

  Shaking my head at him, I stressed, “I have to go alone.”

  “Let me…” he started before I stopped him saying, “It’s a public place and I’m going to have the driver take me.” Forcing a smile, I added, “I have it all worked out and it will be fine, just like it was today.”

  “You don’t look like it was fine,” he said.

  Shrugging, I started to say, “I just…” before Jackson offered, “You’re not on your own. You don’t have to do this by yourself.”

  Nodding in agreement, I started to feel nervous. Not the same nervousness that came with being afraid, although it did scare me. As the knot in my stomach grew, I patted his arm and hopped out of the car.

  Our trip to The Store was productive but long. I had a hard time picking out an anniversary dress, mostly because I was distracted. Finally, I settled on one I thought would make Hert want to come home and stay home. I picked up some strappy heels that would work for the dress and The Society event. Lunch was okay but the food wasn’t very good and on top of Jackson fidgeting in his seat the whole time, he kept looking at me like I was pitiful. Making our last stop at The Florist Shop, I went in alone and gave the florist instructions for my centerpiece. She gave a few odd looks as she wrote down what I wanted before saying she would email me a picture when it was completed and before it was sent to the hall for the event. All I had left now was the table cloth and I was sure Mrs. Thomas would have enough fabric left after making my dress for me to use.

  I planned on my day out with Jackson being more fun than it turned out to be. Heading back to his mom’s house to pick up Sophia, I thought about what a fun day we could have had, if I hadn’t stopped by to see HIM first.

  Sighing, I offered, “Do you wanna go one more place before we pick Sophia up?”

  Cautious this time, he asked, “Where?”

  “Wherever you wanna take me,” I suggested, smiling wide.

  With a slight smile, he replied, “I think we should go pick Sophia up.”

  Disappointed, I nodded as we continued to the Thomas’.

  Mrs. Thomas showed me her progress on my dress and measured me again. It was going to be beautiful but at the moment it was hard to enjoy, knowing how mad Jackson was at me. Usually if I made Jackson mad, he would stay away for a few days then get over it. Unfortunately for the both of us, we were stuck together. As I pretended everything was fine, we left the Thomas’ and headed back to the house. When we arrived at the house, I quickly threw dinner together then just picked at it. Sophia must have had a fun day because she barely stayed awake through her meal. Jackson didn’t seem very hungry either and I could tell he was hoping Sophia had stayed awake so he wouldn’t have to talk to me. It was a hard thing for me to go see HIM. I just didn’t realize, it was difficult for both of us.

  The later it got the more I wished I could figure out a way to say I’m sorry and cheer him up. Thinking of the silly things Jackson had done in the last week that made me smile, I had it. I ran upstairs and into my room. Digging through my drawers I found a pair of my night shorts that looked like boxers. Pulling the shorts on, I put my pajama bottoms on over them. Throwing on an oversized night shirt, I headed back downstairs and into the laundry room. I found one of his freshly washed and dried undershirts in a basket. Shrunk enough from the dryer, his white wife-beater pretty much covered my bra looking like I had a loose tank top on. With it now under my night shirt, I headed back into the living room.

  Walking to the couch, I apologized, “Jacks, I’m really sorry for having you take me to see HIM. Please don’t stay mad at me.”

  Appearing as though he wasn’t happy about being mad at me either, he said, “I’m not mad, I just…I think we should both go to bed and start fresh tomorrow.”

  Smiling, I suggested, “We could or…We could practice for The Ball.”

  Jackson gave me a strange look as I held my arms in a ready position, waiting for him to join me.

  Standing up he started to smile, saying, “Ren…”

  Ready to cheer him up, I pulled off my over shirt, slid my pajama bottoms off and asked, “How ‘bout now?”

  Smiling wide and shaking his head at me as I stood there in what appeared to be boxers and his undershirt, Jackson stepped in front of me.

  “You’re really something else you know that right,” he shared.

  I grabbed his waist and pulled him to me, saying, “Let's practice.”

  Taking my hand in his, Jackson waltzed me around the living room.

  Since there was no music, our dance ended after we made our third lap around the living room. I knew I had cheered him up, seeing as his smile stayed fixed in place the whole time.

  Laughing as we sat down on the couch, I informed, “I don’t know why that bothered you so much. That wasn’t embarrassing at all.”

  Still smiling wide, he assured, “Technically, you had clothes on, not the same as being in your underwear.”

  “Whatever,” I spouted before saying, “Just admit it your kinda shy, after all.”

  Pretending to take offense, he teased, “I don’t think so. I was just worried you would get all wild after seeing me in my underwear.”

  Raising an eyebrow, I questioned, “Oh, so you pretended to be embarrassed for my benefit?”

  “Of course,” he insisted.

  Knowing that wasn’t the truth, I wagered, “Okay then, if you’re so confident, take
off your shirt and show me your tattoo.”

  Suddenly serious, Jackson stated, “No.”

  Confused, I scoffed, “Thought you weren’t shy.”

  “I’m not and it’s just a tattoo. Not a big deal,” he replied.

  Narrowing my eyes at him, I argued, “If it’s not a big deal then show me.”

  Raising both his eyebrow, Jackson shook his head at me.

  I sat there on my side of the couch pouting. The more I thought about his mystery tattoo, the more I wanted to see it.

  My curiosity compelled me to beg, “Please,” repeatedly, smiling wide each time.

  Shaking his head with each of my plea’s he finally said, “I’m not showing you.”

  Giving up, I griped, “Fine,” before saying, “I guess I’ll go to bed.”

  Pleased I had given up, Jackson said, “Night Ren,” as I stood up.

  Still wishing he would have showed me, I replied, “Night, Mr. McShy,” and headed upstairs.

  In my room, I got ready for bed then climbed in.

  After spending a few minutes thinking of ways to get Jackson to show me his tattoo, I decided to stop after an ‘I’ll show you mine if you show me yours,’ thought popped into my head. With a heavy sigh, I tried to get excited about seeing Hert for our anniversary. I wanted to see him and be with him. For some reason, I wasn’t as thrilled with the idea as I should have been. Then, I knew the reason. I was worried. What if I saw him and he wasn’t happy to see me? Sighing again, I rolled over and tried to fall asleep, thinking of every time Hert said he loved me.

  Chapter 16

  It was Thursday, Hert and I’s one year anniversary. I overslept and missed his call. However, Jackson didn’t and said the driver would pick me up at six. Most of my day was spent in preparation for the evening. I thought a few times about picking up a gift for him but decided I would be his present. With a plunging neckline, that left little to the imagination, my light blue satin halter dress was the perfect wrapping for his gift. Looking forward to my husband unwrapping me, I was thrilled for it to be almost six. Pulling my wedding ring out of my jewelry box, I slid it on my finger and was ready to go. I walked down the stairs.

  Jackson was standing in the living room holding Sophia as I made my way down.

  Smiling wide, I asked, “So, do I look pretty?”

  Jackson answered, “Holy sh…” before glancing at Sophia and correcting, “Mmmhmm.”

  Tilting my head, I winked saying, “Thank you. Sophia is supposed to be at your mom’s at seven”

  Nodding, he replied, “Oh, I almost forgot.”

  Confused, I watched him pick a card up off the coffee table and walk over to me. I stepped closer to him and he backed up a little stretching his arm out to hand it to me. Taking it, I opened it and smiled.

  “Happy Anniversary,” he declared.

  I started to hug him, saying, “Awe, that’s so sweet.”

  Holding his hand up, Jackson assured, “If you come any closer in that dress, you won’t be making it out of the house.”

  Smiling at his inappropriate way of complimenting me, my confidence soared and I was sure Hert would be coming home with me. Standing on the other side of Jackson, I kissed Sophia goodbye and left when the driver arrived.

  The driver informed we would be on the road for a while. Settling back in my seat, I took advantage of the champagne that Hert no doubt had sent for me. When we pulled into the hotel, I shook my head thinking it figures. The driver directed me to a private elevator that would take me directly to the floor with Hert’s suite. Shaking my head on the way up, I smiled wide and decided I didn’t care about anything tonight except Hert and me.

  Taking a breath, I tapped on the door. It slowly opened revealing Hert on the other side. Slightly startled to see him clean shaven, since the last time I saw him he had a beard, I focused on his clear blue eyes that seemed to be intensely inspecting my appearance. He cracked a smile, then closing the door behind me, swiftly grabbed me and started kissing me. Kissing him back, I held on tight as he lifted me up and carried me to the bed. My thoughts were hazy and all I could think of was how much I missed him and how good it felt. Setting me down, Hert leaned over me.

  As his kisses trailed down my neck, I whispered, “I love you.”

  Making his way across my collar bone, he urged, “I want you.”

  Scooting back slightly, I placed my hand on his cheek repeating, “I love you.”

  Nodding, he leaned forward and kissed me again, starting to undo the top of my dress.

  It occurred to me he didn’t realize how important it was for me to hear him say it back.

  I rolled away and sat up saying, “You love Me too, right.”

  Nodding again, he pulled me on top of him, placed his hands on my hips and started kissing me.

  Quickly pulling away, I asked, “Could you tell me?”

  Rolling his eyes, he stood up and griped, “What is your problem?”

  Weighing my options, I briefly wondered how much it really mattered if he said I love you. At this point my body was aching ‘you don’t need to hear the words!’ but my heart kept beating, ‘why won’t he say it?’ I decided it was a simple thing I was asking and he was acting like I just asked him to cut off his own arm.

  It was our anniversary and my husband obviously wanted to make love to me but didn’t want to say the words.

  “What’s yours?” I snapped, throwing my hands in the air.

  Snapping back, he assured, “At the moment, you.”

  Shrinking back a little, I replied, “Look, I know we kinda left things unresolved before you had to go but I love you and I want you to come back home with me.”

  “I told you I would be back next Saturday,” he stated.

  Scooting to the edge of the bed in front of him, I kneeled on it, saying, “You can still do whatever you’re doing but come home at night.”

  Shaking his head, he shared, “It’s easier to be away from distraction.”

  “I’m a distraction?” I questioned.

  Appearing as though he had accidentally told the truth, Hert stated, “I would prefer to have this conversation when I return home.”

  Hert’s expression and overall demeanor infuriated me. As I stared at him I started to feel sad.

  “So you wanna sleep with me now and love me when you get home?” I questioned.

  He paused before answering, “Wanting you has never been the issue.”

  “But loving me has? What happened to, ‘I promise to always try my best’?” I asked.

  Appearing frustrated, he complained, “I’ve been trying! I’ve tried and tried and I can’t do both!”

  Standing up, I confirmed, “And you’ve already made it very clear, you won’t resign.” Without a response from him, I asked, “Can you please call the driver? I don’t want to be here with you.”

  Nodding he picked up the phone and made the call.

  I continued staring at him and realized Hert had already left me once. This time was easier for him. I knew what he wanted and it hurt that a real marriage or relationship wasn’t it.

  There was a knock at the door as I walked towards it Hert stopped me, saying, “Wait.” I turned to him and thought maybe I was wrong, until he said, “I want you, always. Stay the night with me,” sliding his hands down my sides resting them on my hips. He pulled me close adding, “When I get back we can come up with an arrangement that works for both of us.”

  “I am not an arrangement,” I imparted, sliding my ring off and handing it to him.

  Shaking his head, Hert said, “I’m not asking for a divorce, just a…” before I stopped him, saying, “You have made it very clear what you want from me.”

  Narrowing my eyes and shaking my head at him, I was insulted and heart broken.

  The driver knocked at the door again and Hert said, “I will be back next Saturday.”

  “Good for you,” I snapped as I opened the door and walked out.

  Following the driver into the elev
ator, I stepped in and stood there quietly.

  It seemed to take forever to make it back to the house. I wanted to scream. I wanted to cry. Somehow, I managed to do neither. I just sat there silently resolved. I guessed I always knew. Somewhere inside of the too good to be true, it really was. The driver dropped me in front of the house and I sighed, walking up to the front door.

  Surprised to see Jackson in the living room when I walked in, I snapped, “I thought you were going home tonight?”

  “I was home, Hert called and said you were coming back here,” he quickly answered.

  With a sarcastic smile, I said, “Well make sure you go call him and let him know, his arrangement made it home.”

  “What?” Jackson questioned.

  Quickly changing my mind, I snapped, “Never mind give me the number. I’ll call him.”

  Handing me a piece of paper with Hert room number on it, Jackson offered, “He just said for me to wait for you and call if you didn’t show up.”

  “Oh, and what else did Mr. Herterand say?” I asked.

  Shaking his head, he shared, “That was it.”

  I stared at him for a moment and decided he was telling the truth. With an irritated sigh, I stomped upstairs.

  In my room, I slid off my shoes, pulled my hair up and pulled my dress off. Grabbing shorts and a t-shirt out of my drawer, I put them on. I started to throw my shoes in the closet but as I looked at all Hert’s shoes and clothes inside, I decided they were not worthy to be in the same area. Carefully setting my shoes to the side, I looked around the room and smiled thinking none of his belongings deserved to be near mine.

  Starting with Hert’s box of childhood photos, I picked the box up and carried it to his home office. Using his desk chair, I propped the door open wide to make for an easier back and forth. I shoved the box in the back of the closet before heading back to my room. Pulling out his dresser drawers, I carried them one at a time, stacking them in his office closet. Next were his shoes, which I not so carefully tossed in before covering them with the clothes from his side of the closet. Standing in my room, I looked around deciding what was next. Pushing the items from the top of his dresser onto the floor, I pulled it away from the wall. Much lighter without the drawers, I found his dresser slid right into the hallway. Looking up when I bumped it against the wall, I saw Jackson standing at the end of it.