To Regret a Raven

Chapter 7 - I'm Sorry (Drie)

In the days that followed their talk, Drie steadily shored up her defenses, bracing herself to be love-bombed. And yet, with every day that passed, she felt more and more foolish - like she'd readied an armada to march on an ant hill. Retrospectively, she wasn't sure why she'd expected it, it wasn't Tanner's style at all. He'd always been the strong and silent type, watching situations play out while maintaining his distance, quietly analyzing. Prior to their implosion, he hadn't been spontaneous at all, which was, ironically, one of the things that had attracted her most to him.

Drie had always gravitated towards people who behaved in predictable patterns; she craved dependability. It was why she'd bonded so closely with Jeden, despite Sam being born between them. Jeden was the poster child for predictability, having been forced to follow predetermined processes most of her life due to her medical restrictions. Sam, on the other hand, was something of an enigma that Drie had never understood. She came across quiet and focused, currently finishing up her degree in accounting of all things, but there had always been a sharp edge to her silence. Having been only a year behind Sam in school, Drie remembered, all too well, the many ways Sam had stealthily manipulated things to work in their favor - along with the dangerous guys she'd been so open to dating. Drie loved her sister fiercely, but she'd learn to regard her with a certain degree of respectable wariness after so many years of observational conditioning. In a similar vein, it also explained why she connected with her youngest sister, Rosy, so naturally; despite Nellie, the resident madcap, being two years older than Rosy.

After the drama of her break-up with Tanner and his uncharacteristic behavior in the following weeks, she'd been forced to acknowledge that there was a lot still to learn about him. And she'd suddenly found herself flailing; not knowing what to expect, or what to believe, from a person she'd once trusted implicitly.

So it certainly threw Drie for a loop when Tanner backed off peacefully and held to his word - giving her space, respecting her time, not bombarding her with public scenes or surprises. He simply texted her a brief message on his way to the library each day, wishing her a good morning, and ending it with an invite for breakfast. She always responded with a polite decline, not yet ready to return to the place they'd spent so much time together - telling stories of their childhoods and laughing over their syrupy meals. And each morning, he let it go, not pressing the topic.

Afterwards, on most days, he'd send one or two additional messages of inconsequence spaced randomly throughout the day. Sometimes it was a funny nursing meme that would make her giggle reluctantly, other times it was an interesting article or clip from one of the shows they had watched together; but most often, it was simply thoughts he wanted to share - like how he missed her laugh, or a picture of a new book they'd stocked that he thought she may enjoy.

He kept this simple exchange going for weeks; despite her obvious lack of involvement. Other than her initial decline to meet each day, she wasn't responding to him at all. But she did read the messages, and then she re-read them, wanting to believe them, her heart wishing she believed them; but then she'd grow angry over the feelings of doubt her mind harbored. Telling her it was all just a cruel game that she had never learned how to play; telling her to ignore the wishes of her heart and choose the smarter path that wouldn't prove to be emotionally devastating.

Give him some time. Take it slow, the memory of Jeden's voice whispered and Drie sighed as her doorbell rang and she gave her reflection in the bathroom mirror one last look over. Her blue eyes hovering over the mascara and lip gloss she'd applied and the smooth bounce of her freshly curled hair. Besides class, it was her first outing in months, but Drie couldn't drudge up the slightest hint of excitement. She wanted to blame something, anything - her class load, Nellie's most recent drama, even her tumultuous feelings; but though she may hate it, the truth was clear as a bell. It wasn't Tanner waiting on the other side of that door.