Chapter 116

The three of us walked out of the spice shop and into the cool, night air. I glanced up toward the sky. Even though the Hexenbiest part of Adalind was dead, something gnawed at me that it wasn't over. No, Nick shouldn't have let her walk off so easily.

"I should probably get home," Nick said to us. "I can't wait to hear from Hank about his date." He laughed and flashed that stupid, toothy grin of his and then got into his truck. Surely Detective Swagger would have much to tell.

I looked toward Monroe once Nick drove off. "So, I guess I should probably head home, too. You wanna join me?" I asked cautiously.

"I've got some things to do at home. You go on." He leaned toward me, but then paused and drew back. "You still have his scent all over you," he groaned.

"Are we going to be okay? Please say that we are." I tried not to beg, but I was about to.

"I can't answer that yet." He slightly twitched as he forced his hands into his pockets. "Go home, get some sleep, and rest that tongue of yours, okay?"

"I'd sleep better if you were with me."

"Just trust me and get some rest. We'll… talk soon."

I sighed, but understood. This hadn't been easy to deal with. Zaubertrank or not, he had watched his best friend make out with me, and then I'd said that I loved him. Loved him! Oh, it was horrible! Then we'd argued in the car. What a disaster! If Monroe ever wanted to have anything else to do with me again, it would be a miracle in itself. I had to respect his request and go home alone tonight. I deserved much worse than that.

(*)(*)(*)(*)(*)

Brenda Lee's 'I'm Sorry' played through my car speakers on the drive back, and I tried not to cry. This wasn't my fault, but the guilt for everything this past week pressed against my chest. If only there was a magical scrub brush to erase all the kissing and other things out of my brain. The nausea returned just thinking about it.

I immediately took a shower when I got home. It wasn't magical, but the body puff helped cleanse my skin from Nick's touch. My chest was sore, but not just from the large bruise. As I lathered up, I finally couldn't hold it in anymore and I cried. The tears drifted down the drain along with everything else. But the tears were brief. I was stronger than this. I wasn't weak. The worst was over, and I could repair what had been destroyed. I had to believe that.

My tongue stabbed like a raging sunburn as I brushed my teeth. At least the antidote had worked, but would things go back to normal after this? Well, my version of normal, at least. Things were never really normal.

I wrapped myself in my comfy, flannel PJs and stepped outside to get the mail. Amongst the usual bills was a large, thin package. I took it inside and laid it on my coffee table. It didn't have a return address, but the postmark was from Louisville. Carefully, I ripped open the top and peeked inside. Oh, wow. Donnie had outdone himself. I slid out a flawless looking record cover with a large, Post-It note from my turtle friend in the center.

Renée,
Sorry this took longer to find than I thought it would. It wasn't easy, but when does that ever stop me? Before you ask, this one's on me, my little dudette. I think you know why. I hope your boyfriend appreciates this. He's one lucky dude.

-Donnie

One lucky dude? That statement was laughable. What a time for this to arrive. I peeled off the note to reveal Hugues Nuages smiling back while giving me a six-fingered wave. I slid out the disc, which was like new. Perhaps it had never been played. Surely not everyone was a Zither fan. Maybe I'd be able to give this to Monroe once things were better between us.

I put the disc back in its cover and went upstairs. The red wrapping paper was still out from when I'd wrapped Monroe's last gift. I picked up the roll. Why not? It was still his favorite color, right? Instead of a red ribbon, I settled on a white one.

"The better to tie me up with," I quipped aloud. Perhaps going with red at all was a bad idea. I shook my head. No, it was fine as long as I wasn't wearing it.

After taking my time with the wrapping, I went back downstairs and laid the gift on the coffee table. My tongue was still on fire, so I grabbed a large cup of ice from the kitchen, and settled on the couch.

I chewed on ice chips as I sat in a daze. TV didn't pacify my feelings. Fifteen minutes into a show, and I had no clue what they were even going on about. I paced through the house. I cleaned, I paid bills, and I even finished my flow charts while trying to distract my thoughts. None of it was helping. There was only one thing that would help. I called Monroe.

"I'm sorry," I said as he answered the phone.

"Hun, you don't have to keep apologizing," he sighed. "You've apologized enough already."

"But I feel so… Oh, it's just awful," I sighed in return. "Monroe, I…"

The words hung on my burned tongue. I wanted to scream from the rooftops this crazy "L" word, but I couldn't say it over the phone. Not after what I'd done. I couldn't believe I'd said it to Nick. I should've known something was wrong sooner when I did that. But now I knew, and I'd screwed up. I loved Monroe. I loved him with every clichéd phrase and every romantic song ever written. And now that my mind agreed with my heart, was it too late?

"Renée?" Monroe asked. I'd stopped talking and was thinking.

"Sorry. I just wanted to say that I don't deserve you. And I'm sorry I lied to you today... and all those other times. You deserve better than this." Tears ran down my cheeks, and I sniffled into the phone.

"Renée, now don't cry," he softly replied. "Man, it's not about whether or not I deserve you. None of this was easy on either one of us."

"It was wrong to argue with you tonight. I don't want to lose you. The universe says we belong together, Monroe," I continued, sounding so incredibly needy, but I didn't care. "You and I… we belong together."

Monroe took in a breath. "Maybe so, but the universe doesn't mention what happens if I lose you because you've gone off and done something senseless because of, you know, some gut feeling or whatever. With your recklessness I might lose you in a whole other way. I can't handle that, you know? Things are gonna need to change, though. But, man, I don't know if you can change."

"I'll find a balance. We can talk about it. Come over and I'll make coffee."

Monroe let out a short chuckle. "Don't you have to work in the morning?"

"Yeah, but I'll sleep later or call in sick or something."

"No, don't call in. I'll phone you when I'm ready to talk, okay?"

"Tomorrow?" I asked timidly.

"Let's see how tonight goes." He let out a deliberate sigh. "I just need to think for a while, you know?"

I held back more tears. He was done with me. It was obvious. All the lies and the deceit were too much. My inner fourteen year old was full of doleful angst. "I'm going to try to get some sleep," I said, instead of all the other crazy thoughts in my head.

"That sounds like a good idea. Goodnight, Renée."

As I hung up the phone, the tears fell again. I hooked up my MP3 player, until I found Blake Shelton. When your heart hurt like mine did, country was the way to go.

"Why do I do the things I do?
Was I born this way? Am I a self-made fool?
I shoot the lights and curse the dark.
I need your love but I break your heart.
And I know the words that'll bring you back,
But I don't say nothin' as I watch you pack.
I had to work to be the jerk I've come to be.
It ain't easy bein' me…"

I picked up my phone again. I should call him back and tell him the words I wanted to say. Staring at the phone, I shook my head. No, he needed time. I'd give him tonight then tell him tomorrow. I set the phone back down.

Instead, I walked into the kitchen and opened the fridge. I could drink my tears away. That went with the country song theme, too. The bottle of tequila was inviting as I picked it up and held it in my hands. If I drank that bottle down I'd forget just about everything tonight. Might as well enjoy the perks of my Waldgeist abilities; no hangover in the morning. I shook my head, again. It was just a temporary fix. I'd stay drunk if that were the case. I put the bottle away and closed the fridge door with a sigh.

For several minutes I paced the floors. There was no way I could sleep. For the next couple of hours I sat angled in my chair, staring up at my cuckoo clock as the minute hand ticked forward again and again, inexorably making its way around the face.

"Time, why you punish me?"

I sang out the words. Time. How much did any of us really have? And how much time had I wasted this week because of Adalind Schade? I wasn't using my abilities. Adalind was artificial, not because of her job, but because I knew. Pete was wrong; not everyone was good at heart. His philosophy had a nice sentiment, but I needed to wise up and listen to my Waldgeist side. These instincts about people were there for a reason. I'd been used and abused far too long. It was time to Wesen up.

Another few minutes passed. I thought about this rollercoaster ride of crazy I'd ridden with Nick Burkhardt. Zaubertrank aside, I'd meant what I'd said to Nick in the ruins; I didn't want to hate him. Granted, right now I loathed everything about him. The shock of it all had hit me full force while my mind cleared, and the anger still lingered. But I didn't want to hate him in the long run. Someway, somehow we'd get back to normal. I'd help him with the database, and he'd help me wield a morning star over my head. (Hey, Monroe's idea wasn't all that bad, actually.) But we'd find a way to work together and figure out the rest of Mr. Royal Pain's plans, and then we'd stop him. I needed to Grimm up, too.

The minute hand ticked once more as both it and the hour hand settled on the twelve. My bird sang his sweet song, alerting me it was midnight. This day of hell was officially over. I wanted Monroe here. I needed to make up for lost time. It was a new day and I loved him; my heart and mind were ready. Together they would put these fears aside and live in the moment. When I saw Monroe next time, he would know. The crazy 'L' word needed to be said in person. Once it was, then we'd just have to see where that part of our story would take us. Maybe he'd reject me, or tell me that what I'd done was inexcusable, but I would still tell him how I felt.

No matter what, no one else would ever hurt Monroe again, especially not me. Never again. I felt like I should be standing on a hillside somewhere with the theme from Gone With the Wind playing off in the distance. A quick chuckle escaped me at the imagery. It felt good to laugh.

"As God is my witness, I'll never hurt my Blutbad again," I said in my southern drawl. It was the durn truth.

I trotted into my bedroom. The red towel was still on the edge of my bed. I shook my head and tossed it into the garbage can where it belonged.

A/N: Monroe needs some time to think and Renée can't stop thinking, either... Donnie made good on his promise about the record, but will she get to give it to Monroe?

1 more chapter today. (: