A Soul Ensnared

Nine

July 1, 2013

Sonya sat curled on her couch, feet tucked beneath her, sipping from the large glass of pinot noir nestled against the palm of her hand. She had traded her business attire for silk pajamas and a cotton robe. The calendar had been released into the community today, having been approved and signed off on by both Noah and Nancy last Thursday. Today, knowing her schedule was light, Sonya had taken a much-needed break from her desk and toured five new clients. This, in turn, had secured three new applicants to the Club.

Lifting her glass into the air, she gave herself a small toast, and took a slow drink from her glass, savoring the wine against her lips. She allowed her thoughts to wander, and found herself thinking about the tall, broad-shouldered, ruggedly scruffy man who held the new position as Superintendent with the Club. She'd seen him earlier in the day as she toured an energetic group of men. He had been discussing architectural plans with a team of businessmen from across the fairway of the third hole. When his eyes had caught hers his face had brightened in response, and her heart had swelled with the excitement of promise. He'd lifted his arm to hail her with nature, easy grace, and she'd felt heat in her cheeks as her hand lifted in a small wave, feeling utterly conspicuous.

Something about Noah created a havoc of emotions within her—emotions she wasn't yet ready to face with the demise of her previous relationship. For right now, though, as she sat alone in her apartment, sipping wine, she let her mind wander over the potential of him. Noah had a roughness about him, and it wasn't just the beard. There was a strength beneath his suits which strained to be released. There was power in his step, and command in his tone. He was self-confident, self-assured, and knew what he wanted. Feeling a smile twist her lips, she found herself envisioning him standing in the middle of a forest, chopping down pine trees, sweat dripping off the curve of his brow.

"Oh my goodness, Sonya, stop it," she said to herself, forcing the vision to dissipate. Taking another sip of wine to either clear or further muddy her thinking, Sonya mulled over her latest dilemma. Here she was, daydreaming about another man, when she hadn't yet taken the courage to deal with the first man in her life.

Ugh, Sonya thought. Brent.

She rolled her eyes. The thought of his name chilled her like Indiana's first winter freeze. Shivering, she reached out to pull a blanket off the back of the couch, and wrapped it around her bare legs.

She hadn't spoken to Brent since she'd caught him flirting with Bernice. She hadn't known the depth of that flirtation until she'd read the messages, only had maddening hunches, but she wasn't willing to face him quite yet. What she needed, she'd decided, was time to think. She was still hurt over his assertions that she was needy and dependent. It had caused her to wonder if she was, in fact, needy and dependent. Yes, she needed him to want her in his life. Yes, she wanted to depend on the permanence of their future.

But was she what he claimed?

"How am I dependent?" she muttered out loud, negating her thoughts. "I'm sitting in an apartment that belongs to me. I drive a car that I bought. I have created a life that should be envied, but I'm whittled down to being a desperate, clingy female?" The air didn't answer her question, and neither did the bottom of her wine glass.

When she let her anger simmer down, she mulled over the biggest problem she was facing—the open flirtation with Bernice. She never would have believed such unfaithfulness if she hadn't seen it with her own eyes. Sure, he was a charmer; she knew he unintentionally stepped over the line when it came to comments he'd made in the past. But, was it fair to blame him for flirting? Everyone flirted, including her. She flirted with the sole intent of gaining new Club members. Was it so bad for him to do so?