Werewolf Boyfriend Delayine 2 (complete)

    A few months ago, I received a message saying my grandmother had fallen and broken her hip. It was then decided I would move in with her so I could help keep an eye on her. I also felt it would be good to have her keeping an eye on me. When I was a teenager, I was diagnosed with Schizophrenia. For the most part, with a good doctor and medications, I was able to live with it. But still, my grandmother was my favorite person in the world and being near her made me feel better. So, we both agreed we would look out for one another.

    The town she lives in was always one of my favorite places to visit as a kid. Hearthway Hollow was a beautiful place. Red brick buildings lined the streets, the vast park, and there were so many exciting places to shop. I used to spend my summers with my grandmother in Hearthway Hollow until my parents moved farther away. This was my first time being back in almost fifteen years.

    The town had grown so much. It was almost a shock to my system. The little town I had loved so much had grown up. But I supposed that could be said for any small town, really. My grandmother’s house hadn’t changed much at all, aside from new paint, hardwood floors, and a redone kitchen, it was the same. 

    “It’ll be so nice having you around again,” Grandmother says. “I have plenty of friends, but sometimes at night it’s nice to have someone else in the house.”

    “What about a boyfriend?” I suggest with a smile.

    She rolls her eyes at me. “I am long passed that stage in my life,” she huffs. “Why not give yourself that same advice.”

    I chuckle. “Eh, it’s not that important for me either,” I tell her. “When it happens, it’ll happen.”

    “Well, I suppose you’re right. What about a doctor?” She asks me.

    I double over and laugh. “Grandma!”

    “No! I mean a doctor for you to see,” she says. “Have you found anyone yet?”

    I shake my head. “I still have some meds, so it’s no big hurry.”

    “No big hurry,” she scoffs at me. “Your health is important. You need to hurry.” She pours me tea and lays a tray of cookies before me. “By the way,” she says as she turns the stove off. “I saw something interesting in the paper this morning. I think you’d rather like it.”

    “What is it?” I ask, picking through the cookies to find the frosted animal crackers I liked so much.

    She hands me the paper, showing me a line of job listings. “The local dance studio is looking for a musician!” She says excitedly. “You should go try out. You’re so talented.”

    “Oh,” I screw up my face. “I don’t know about that.”

    Grandma sits down across from me and pours her own tea. “You’ve used music to cope all these years. Put all that pain and hard work out into the world. You deserve it.”

    “Maybe,” I murmur. “It would nice to have some sort of work to do while I’m here. I can’t spend all day waiting for you to fall again.”

    “Very true,” Grandma laughs.

    I make a call and schedule an interview with the owner of the dance studio, a man named Delaynie Cross. His voice is deep and dark, kind of sexy, actually. I gather up my music and put it together, organized and neat, into a three-ring binder. 

    I then take out my guitar and tune it. When I was young, and the world felt like it was piling up on me, I used music as a way to cope. I focused so hard on studying how to play instruments, how to read sheet music, and everything there was to know so that the anxiety and the dread that followed me couldn’t sink in. I ignored it by playing the guitar, I denied it entry by writing songs. But even still, mental illness waits for no one. By the time I was thirteen, I was withdrawing from my family. I was cutting myself hoping that the pain I was feeling would stop. My mom and dad luckily were paying attention to me. They got me help as soon as they could. By the time I was eighteen, I was feeling like myself again. But that constant gnawing of dread was still there. At the back of my mind, even now, I can feel it like a hamster on a wheel, just waiting for the wheel to break off and careen wildly through me.

    The night before the big interview, I had a rather strange dream. I was walking home along a path through the woods. Everything was in black and white except for my red hoodie, which has been kind of like my blanky since I was eighteen. Anyways, I was walking home, and it was cold. Trees started growing on either side of my path. Big, jagged, twisting things that almost resembled broken fingers. I kept walking, slowly picking up speed. 

I see something ahead of me and then beside me. It runs around behind me and then it’s back in front of me. I start running, turning down the path I thought I had just come from. But I come to a fork in the road. I hear it behind me, huffing and puffing. I look down one road and then the other. Neither looks familiar. Still, the thing is behind me huffing and puffing. I start to go down a road, but the thing grabs me from behind. When I look up, I see a huge black wolf.

    I wake up, gasping for breath as I stare at the ceiling. I never sleep in complete darkness. I always keep some sort of light on. I found that, when I was young, sleeping in total darkness, I would hear things. Sleeping with a dim light made me see things. So usually, I slept with some sort of lamp or lantern on. I sigh and close my eyes, still seeing that huge black wolf. 

I shake my head and sit up again, reaching for the water bottle by my bed. I then look at my prescription bottle. I can’t remember if I took my medication that day or not. I sigh and set the bottle down after a long drink. I’d make sure to take it first thing in the morning before the interview.

When I wake up, I find my grandmother has made me a nice big breakfast to get me ready for the interview. Afterward, I shower and get dressed. I feel nervous, so I slip on my red hoodie. I gather up my guitar and the binder of all my music. As I’m getting ready to head out, my grandmother stops me.

“You can’t wear that ratty old thing to the interview,” she scolds.

I look at her confused. “What do you mean?” I ask. “What ratty oh-” I look down at my hoodie. “It’s not ratty.”

“Why do you even have that thing on?” She asks. 

I shrug. “I just put it on,” I reply. “I don’t even think about it.”

“It’s cold out today,” my grandmother sighs. “And it’s supposed to snow. Put on that nice new coat I got for you.”

“I’ll be late,” I tell her. “I’ll wear the coat when I get back.”

“Lenore!” She scolds at me as I leave the house. “Lenore!” She sighs and goes back, not wanting to fight the cold.

As I make my way to the dance studio, it starts to snow. I pull my hood up over my head and watch as the flakes fall. For a moment, I forget what I’m supposed to be doing and just stare up at the sky, watching snow fall and land in my lashes. I then have to sneeze, and I remember I’m heading to the interview.

The dance studio looks pretty cool. It’s on the corner of downtown, so part of it is still the red brick, but then there is an entire wall of just mirrored glass. As I’m walking by, I see something in the mirror. I stop and stare, at nothing but what was there. But when I walk again, from the corner of my eye, I see that black wolf from my dream.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” I growl under my breath. I shake my head and walk into the building.

There’s a girl at the front desk with black hair. “Can I help you?” She asks.

“I have an interview,” I say as I walk to the front desk. “For the musician?”

The girl gasps. “Oh! Yeah, one second.” She stands up, and I realize she’s super short. She runs to the back and comes back later with a man behind her,. He’s tall as can be, long dark hair, and neatly trimmed facial hair. The left side of his face bears deep, old scars. They come from the top of his scalp and all the way down to his chin. He almost looks like a comic book or cartoon villain. 

I take off my hood, and the snow falls away. I pull out my hair as he offers his hand. Delaynie was not what I was expecting in terms of a dance instructor. I suppose I was going on stereotypes and that wasn’t nice of me. 

Delaynie seemed a little on edge. Something about him wasn’t exactly present during the interview. When I talked, I noticed him staring at me as if there was something on my face. This made me feel anxious, and I couldn’t help but fidget a lot. After I finished talking, I was second guessing everything in my head. I wanted to tell myself to shut up and just wait for him to speak.

It wasn’t until he asked me to play, I felt comfortable again. Playing my music is one of the few things I feel comfortable with about myself. When I play music, it’s only me. The music helps me to stop from overthinking and hearing those horrible, clawing voices in the back of my head. The hamster on its wheel stops running for those few minutes.

I look up from playing and, to my shock, I see this big, tough guy has tears in his eyes. I would never have expected someone like him would be moved to tears so easily.

“When can you start?” He asks.

It’s hard to explain that rush of mixed emotions that come with being validated like that. Having all those negative thoughts and emotions about yourself being proved utterly wrong. The excitement of winning. The nervousness of starting something new. The absolute joy you’re going to be doing what you love for money.

“Really?” I gasp, leaning forward towards him. “No joke?” I feel the stinging rush of tears in my eyes. I know I look stupid when I cry, but everything is coming together so strongly.

    “I’m not much of a jokester,” he chuckles softly, shrugging his shoulders. “I think you’re perfect. I want your music to accompany my dances.”

    I bow my head to hide my face as I start to cry. “Oh my gosh! Oh-” I hiccup. “Thank you! This is amazing!” I wipe my face with my sleeve, careful not to smudge my mascara any worse than it must already be.

    Delaynie has the softest smile on his face, and it makes me feel comforted. “No, thank you,” He stands up and holds his hand out. “I can’t wait to work with you, Lenore.” 

    I stand quickly and shake his hand in return. “Same here,” I gasp. “This is just so amazing! I’m sorry,” I flinch. “I keep saying that, I just don’t know what else to say!”

    Delaynie’s smile broadens, and I have to admit to myself that my boss is handsome. “It’s quite alright. Say it as much as you want. I’m excited myself.” He walks with me to the front door. The girl with dark hair who is at the front desk is watching us from over the top of her magazine.

    “This is my niece, Kamilah,” he says. “She’ll get all the paperwork and necessary stuff ready for you. If you’d like to come in tomorrow, we can get started then.”

    “Ok,” I nod and glance at Kamilah. “What time?”

    “Studio opens at noon,” Kamilah stands up and walks around. It’s hard to believe she’s Delaynie’s niece since she barely comes up to his chest. “I’ll be in around one, so you can come at any time after that.”

    I nod again and take a deep breath. “Ok, sounds great! Thanks again, this is such a great opportunity. I can’t wait to tell my grandmother the good news.” I wave goodbye to them and happily trot back out into the falling snow. I run home, so excited about telling grandma the good news that I had forgotten my binder at the dance studio. 

    We celebrate that night by ordering from our favorite take-out restaurant. Afterward, I go to bed, excited for the next day to come so I could go into my job. I lay down, and as soon as I fall asleep, I start to dream again.

    I see the big black wolf standing in front of me. His form seems to shift and fragment, sometimes flickering like he was an image on an old television. I’m breathing hard as my breath comes out in thick white puffs. I feel that if I look away from him, then it will be over. All I can do is stand there and keep a lock on his eyes. 

    Don’t look away, I tell myself, don’t look away. Stand still. Don’t move. Stand still! Don’t move! Stand still! Don’t! Don’t! Don’t! Don’t!

    The words keep reverberating in my mind. They shake and vibrate and rattle in my head, creating an excruciating pain. I grab my arms, digging my fingernails into my flesh. I keep staring at the wolf. 

    “Come closer,” the wolf says in a voice like a cold grave. “Come closer.”

    I stand still, afraid to still look away from him. My nails dig harder into my flesh, the pain matching the ache in my head.

    “Come closer,” the wolf beckons to me again, stretching out a large hand. 

    Don’t! Don’t! Don’t! Don’t!

    “Lenore,” it growls.

    I wake up with a gasp. My room is freezing cold, and I feel a stinging in my palms. In my sleep, I had been gripping my fists so tight my nails had punctured my palms. I get up, closing the window I had left open, and I go to the bathroom. I wash my hands and bandage up my palms. Looking into the mirror, I see my face shift. I rub my eyes, blaming the horrible sleep and the nightmare I had.

    I go back to my room and sit on my bed, holding my head in my hands. 

    “Good morning,” my grandmother sings as she stands in my doorway. “Are you excited for your first day of-” she stops cold. “Lenore,” she whispers. “What’s wrong?”

    I look up at her and smile pitifully. “I’m ok. Just a bad dream.”

    She furrows her brow. “You need to find a doctor, Lenore. You can’t keep this gap growing.” She walks into my room and touches my cheek. Her skin is warm, and she smells like clean laundry. 

    “I will, Grandma,” I assure her. “Let me get this first day of work started. Then I’ll figure out what to do about a doctor around here.” I smile at her and stand up. “I’ll make breakfast today. Sound good?”

    That afternoon is sunny and chilled. The snow from the day before makes everything glow, and with the way this town looks, it’s almost like something from a movie. It’s all so beautiful and calm.

    I walk into the dance studio and see a bunch of kids running around in leotards and dance gear. Kamilah is behind the desk with a young girl in her lap.

    “Hi! Can we help you?” The girl asks, her hair is a thick mess of black curls and wild cowlicks.

    Kamilah grins. “Billie, this is our new employee I was telling you about. Remember?”

    “Oh right!” The little girl looks down, then thrusts out papers at me. “Papers!” She says.

    “No,” Kamilah hisses. “What are you supposed to say?”

    Billie’s big brown eyes bug. “Oh! Sign on the dotted lines!”

    “That’s right,” Kamilah grins.

    I smile and take the papers. “Thank you so much.”

    Billie slips down off of Kamilah’s lap. “I’ll see you later, Auntie Kami!” She skips away, heading to a class.

    “Auntie?” I grin at Kamilah.

    “It’s my favorite job,” Kamilah smirks. “Delaynie is waiting on you in his office. You can go in there and fill out the paperwork.”

    “Ok, thank you.” I go back to his office, knocking on the door.

    “Come in,” he murmurs, his voice low and somewhat distracted.

    I  step inside and see him looking over my binder. “It’s just me,” I say. “Kamilah said I could fill out my papers in here.”

    Delaynie looks up at me and, once again, I feel like there’s something on my face. “Oh, yes,” he clears his throat and sets the binder aside. “Come in, come in.” He motions to the chair in front of his desk and offers me a pen. 

    “How did your grandmother take the news?” Delaynie asks.

    “Oh, she was so excited,” I say as I sit down. “She said she always knew my music would take me places.” I then chuckle and shrug. “Just a dance studio. I don’t think I’m going that far.”

    “I wouldn’t think like that. Often the first step is a small one,” Delaynie chuckles. “Do you know how I even started dancing?”

    “The bus driver?” I smirk.

    Delaynie chuckles and shakes his head. “No. Actually, I was dropping off my nieces for their dance classes. I happened to stay for a ballroom class, and I fell in love with it. Before that, I was a shithead of a person with anger issues.” He shrugs. “I came to town and tried to start a fight with my brother.”

    “Oh,” I gasp. “How did that turn out?”

    “My skull got fractured,” he grins and laughs. “But it got me to look around and realize I wasn’t happy. So see? Your first step is way better than mine.”

    “Ok, I’ll agree to that,” I smirk as I sign papers.

    I sit in on a couple of classes, watching the dancers and Delaynie teach his class. He seems rather strict, stopping class to correct someone or having everyone repeat exercises over and over and over again. It all seems so repetitive and spiteful, but soon I see it’s all for a purpose. He does all this because he cares about his students and he knows their potential. He brings it out of them and by the time class is over, everyone seemed happy and assured with their work.

    In some of the classes, I play my guitar. They dance to my music, and I feel a sense of fulfillment doing it. My favorite classes are the younger ones. The kids get such a kick whenever I play, it really makes me happy.

    I also hate to admit it, but I’ve started to get feelings for Delaynie. A few times, he’s used me as a dance partner. He’s taught me several dance moves, and when he does, our bodies are close. He’s warm and smells like cardamom and pepper. His scars make me feel less self-conscious about my own. His strong and warm voice comforts me, and that’s no easy feat.

    One day as the class files out, Delaynie approaches me. “So what do you think?”

    I smile up at him. “I’ve been watching ballroom videos since I got the job. In fact, it’s all Grandma, and I did yesterday,” I tell him. “I’ve been stressing so much over getting the music right. But today, getting a feeling for the class and the people, I think I can do this.”

    “Great,” Delaynie smiles at me and my heart starts to jumble about like a toddler with too much sugar. “I was wondering if we could talk a bit more about specifics,” he says. “You’re probably hungry though,” he offers.

    I shrug. “I mean, I could eat,” I reply. “But if you need to talk about work, then let’s do that.”

    “How about over dinner then?” He asks me. “I’ll treat you, of course. It’s only fair.”

    The toddler with a sugar high has turned into a toddler with a sugar high and a caffeine addiction. It’s gotten so that the hamster on its wheel is starting to speed hurriedly forward. The squeaking of its wheel hissing in my ear “Don’t! Don’t! Don’t! Pity! Pity! Pity!”

    “I uh-” I fidget with the fingerless gloves on my hands that I’ve been wearing to cover the wounds on my palms. “If you’re sure that’s ok.”

    “Extremely,” he says.

    We walk across the street to a Chinese restaurant that looks like a hole in the wall, but when I see the food, I am instantly in love. Everything looks so beautiful and authentic.

“This is my favorite place,” Delaynie says. “Hope it’s ok.”

I watch a tray of dumplings go by. “Sorry, what?” I look back at him.

He grins at me. “Nothing,” he chuckles. “Feel free to order anything you like. I owe you for working after hours with me.”

“It’s ok with me, really,” I say. “If it’s for work, I’m excited about it.”

We order when the waiter arrives, and a pot of green tea is delivered to the table. Delaynie pours, and I notice scars on his wrists and knuckles. They aren’t like mine. In fact, they look like bite marks.

“Well first off,” he starts, and I look back into his dark eyes. “My younger class is doing a sort of show for the parents. I was hoping to get at least two new pieces for them. Something kind of cute and poppy. Costumes have been ordered, so anything that will go with birds.”

I take notes as he talks. “I can do that,” I tell him.

“Then something to suit a sort of Red Riding Hood storyline,” he murmurs.

I see the black wolf in my tea, and I set it aside. I look up at him. “Red Riding Hood?” I ask.

He nods. “Is something wrong?” He asks. “You look pale.”

I fidget and shake my head, grateful when the food comes. I can push the question aside and distract myself by eating. He makes me a list of songs he wants, storylines that need music. 

“I hope that isn’t too much. I’m willing to pay you for every song you do,” he tells me. 

“I don’t mind at all,” I answer.

He looks at me, his dark eyes are kind and gentle. He seems to want to say something, but we part before then. I head home as it starts to snow. It’s cold and dark. I get a shower and go to bed, telling Grandma goodnight. 

I lie awake in bed, afraid to fully succumb to sleep. I don’t want to dream of the big black wolf again. I don’t want to see him. He scares me. I fight it as long as I can, but soon I fall asleep.

The moon is full and casting shadows all around me. The shadows writhe and twitch, coming towards me with jerky, violent motions. They’re close to me, nearly on top of me, and then I hear the wolf.

“Come closer,” he says.

I look at him, terrified. I would run, but the shadows are all around me.

“Come closer,” he holds out his big hand again. “I’m here.”

I wake up with a jerk at the sound of my alarm blaring. I sit up in bed, holding my head in my hands. I start crying, weeping into my knees.

“Lenore!” My grandmother screams. “Lenore!”

I jump up, racing to the front door where she’s standing. “Grandma, close the door it’s freezing. You’ll catch you-” I stop when I see it. Laying on our front lawn is a huge dead bear. Snow is covering it, but I can still see that its throat has been ripped out.

“Lenore,” my grandmother whispers.

I slam the door shut. “The wolf!” I scream. I feel a panic rising up inside me. I’m so scared, and I can hear the wolf in my head. His clawing, gravelly voice whispering to me. “Oh god, it found me!” I scream.

“Lenore! Baby!” My grandmother tries to grab me to calm me down. “Sit down, Lenore, listen. Come here,” she beckons.

The words strike me, shattering me like glass. “Come here. Come here. Come here. Come here.” The wolf says over and over in my mind. I scream and strike her, hitting my grandmother, and she falls to the ground. I run away, going into my room and slamming the door shut. 

I grab my arms, digging my nails into my skin. I rock myself back and forth, breathing hard and deep. I’m crying, near panicking. 

“Mrs. Lundquist, are you alright?” I hear someone in the living room.

“Oh, Adam,” I hear my grandmother crying.

I shiver and look up, staring at my door. The whispering stops, everything goes quiet. I rush out of my bedroom, watching as a man picks my grandmother off the floor. I stare, unable to think of anything I could say to make this right. 

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

I take my grandmother to the hospital. The fall broke her leg, and she needs surgery. As I’m waiting in the lobby, I see someone walk up and sit down beside me.

“Are you ok?” He asks.

I look up, seeing Delaynie offering me a hot cup of coffee. I whimper and take the cup as tears stream down my face. “I’m sorry I missed today,” I say.

He rubs my back. “Don’t apologize for this. What happened?”

I shake my head. “Me,” I say. “I’m what’s wrong. I am always what’s wrong.”

“Lenore,” he says with a stern and gentle voice. “That can’t be right.”

I feel a comfort from Delaynie, something warm and peaceful as if we had known each other for years. I sniffle and let the tears fall freely. “My grandmother is hurt because of me,” I cry. “She’s hurt because I pushed her! I was scared and I just-” I pull the hood of my jacket up over me. I close it around my face and weep into the fleece.

Delaynie leans in. “Is it ok if I hold you?” He asks.

I nod rapidly, and he puts his big, strong arms around me. His hand cups the back of my head as I cry. We sit like this for a long time until I start to pull back. I avoid eye contact with him, afraid I’ll see something I don't like.

“I’m sick,” I confess to him. “You should know something about me, especially if you want to keep working with me.” I rub my eyes. “When I was fifteen, I was diagnosed with Schizophrenia,” I tell him. 

“Lenore,” he says softly. “I’m so sorry.”

I nod. “It’s ok. If you need to fire me I-”

“No,” he scoffs. “Why would I fire you for that? You might as well fire me while you’re at it.” He takes hold of my hand and squeezes it. “If you need help, just say so.”

I whimper and scoff. “It’s stupid-” I hiccup. I let go of his hand and stand up. “I need to go,” I whisper. “I need to get home.”

“Lenore,” he calls after me, but I quickly walk away. I leave the hospital as it starts to snow. I head home, but when I remember the bear from that morning, I stop. I stand there in the cold, my eyes burning as I stare into the whiteness. I see something moving towards me, it’s big and dark and pressing forward through the streets of the park. I turn around, walking as casually as I can. I hear it breathing behind me. Its hot breath was burning the back of my neck.

“Come here! Come here!”

The hamster wheel has broken free and is running loose. 

I sprint, running forward. I run, and I run. Crying and screaming, I run right into the woods. I’m not sure how long I ran, but by the time I stopped myself, I had to throw up. I heaved and wretched, quivering from exhaustion. I look around myself, seeing I am deep, deep inside the forest. I shudder, and my breath comes out in thick white clouds. 

“Oh no,” I whisper, looking around me.

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. The scratching, itchy voices whisper in the back of my head. I scratch at my neck and look around again. 

Stupid. Wrong. Stupid. Wrong.

I start walking forward.

You’re going to die. But that’s ok.

I clutch my hands around my ears. “Stop it,” I hiss. “Just stop it!”

He’s coming.

I gasp and look up. “No. He’s not real.”

He’s coming. 

“Stop it!” I scream, and I fall to my knees. I double over, pressing my forehead to the frozen ground. “Just shut up! Just shut up!” I curl up on the ground, holding my legs to my chest. I don’t know how long I lay like that. I close my eyes for a moment, and when I open them again, I see something in the woods.

The trees shift and move as it comes forward. Its massive paws pad towards me. I sit up with a fright, staring up at the big black wolf. 

    “Oh no,” I whimper. “Oh no,” I start to get up, but in my haste, I fall and hit a rock. I kick, and my pants rip on the sharp stone. It carves into my leg, and I cry out in pain.

    “Lenore, stop!” I hear Delaynie’s voice.

    I look around, wanting to see him come out of the trees. “Delaynie?” I scream. “Delaynie!”

    “I’m here, it’s ok, we’ve been looking for you.” The wolf comes towards me. “It’s ok. I’m here.”

    “No!” I scream and fight against the wolf as he picks me up. “Delaynie! Delaynie!” I scream, fighting and hitting the wolf as he holds me. I keep screaming his name, fighting against the wolf’s big, strong arms. I smell cardamom and pepper. 

    “It’s me,” the wolf whispers. “It’s me.”

    “We found her!” I hear a woman.

    “We need to get her to the hospital,” another voice says.

    I black out, giving into the black wolf and falling into his fur.

    I wake up to the hum of hospital equipment. The rhythmic ping of a heart monitor. I see a teddy bear laying beside me and then, sitting in a chair, I see Delaynie asleep. My leg is bandaged up, and blood stains are seeping through. 

     I lay back in the hospital bed, staring up at the ceiling. “Delaynie?” I whisper.

    He sits up like a shot. He’s by the bed and clutching my hand. “It’s ok, Lenore. You’re safe.” He pets my forehead. “I found you.”

    I look at him. “What’s going on? Was there really a wolf or was I-?” I shake my head. “The bear, though,” I murmur.

    “I’m so sorry,” he whispers, sitting down beside me. “I should have just talked to you, but I...there’s so much to tell you, but I don’t want to scare you again. The bear was my mistake. I am so sorry, Lenore.”

    I look up at him. “You’re the wolf,” I whisper.

    He squeezes my hand. “I am. But I would never hurt you,” he whispers. “Your grandmother told Adam your nightmare, but it was too late. By the time I thought I could explain everything to you-” he sighs and presses my knuckles to his forehead. “I never meant to hurt you, Lenore.”

    I unfold my palm and touch his cheek. “I need help,” I start to cry. 

    “Maria is bringing in the best in Hearthway Hollow,” Delaynie whispers. “Don’t worry.” he leans his cheek into my palm. “I’ll try better this time.”

    “Better?” I grunt. “Better at what?”

    He smiles at me. “Telling you my feelings.”

    The doctor comes then, explaining to me that I had to have stitches in my leg. Apparently, I had been in the woods for three days. I was starving and dehydrated, so they are going to keep me in the hospital for observation for a few days. While I am also here, I meet with a therapist and psychologist, who help me and get my medication back on track. I’m assigned a doctor as well, who will see to me from here on out. 

    I’m able to visit my grandma as well, who apologizes for not telling me the truth about Hearthway Hollow. 

    Delaynie visits daily, bringing me my guitar and a notebook that’s specifically made for writing music. I notice my guitar has fresh strings on it, and the chips and dents in it have been repaired.

    “It’s the least I can do for now,” Delaynie murmurs.

    “You saved my life,” I tell him. “You’ve done enough.” I beam at him and then I take his hand. I kiss his palm. “You don’t need to do this for me. I don’t mind being your friend, but I don’t want to burden you.”

    He smiles, taking my palm and kissing it. “I already know my feelings,” he tells me. “I already know I want to spend my whole life with you. From the moment I met you, I knew who you were.” He kisses my cheek. “You are not a burden, no matter what you may think. I’ll stand beside you. I’ll make sure you take your medicine. You’ll get to every doctor’s appointment, every therapy session.”

    I grin at him. “So you’ll be my therapy dog?” I ask.

    Delaynie laughs and presses his forehead to mine. “If I don’t scare you anymore.”

    I put my arms around him. “I’m not scared,” I whisper to him. “I love you.”