Chapter 5: Chapter 5: Blood and Tears

At the house, Samuel walked inside with her and went through the house, while she stood impatiently waiting, tapping her foot, too angry to care that he didn't talk to her. When he'd gone through every room in the house, he went to stand at the door, silent, his face expressionless.

"I don't want you inside my house. I'm kicking Mark out, and you and the wolf can go now." She waited for him to fight back, to say something that would give her an excuse to scream like a demented person.

Instead, he merely stood against the door, staring straight ahead. The dog sat next to him on his haunches and, so help her if that was a smirk on his face, she'd shave him, paint him pink, and put a dress on him.

With a last glare at both of them, she stormed up the stairs to her workroom, her aching knee dragging more than usual. She needed the calm her sewing brought her. Halfway up the stairs, she stopped and took off her shoes. Her knee ached and the shoes made it worse. She couldn't let her anger and hurt cause her to make her injury worse.

Barefoot, she carefully limped up the stairs to the second floor where the two bedrooms were and up another short flight of stairs to the attic and into her workroom.

Inside the room that spanned the length of the house, she stood against the wall, battling tears, trying to soak up the peace in the room that had been the sewing room of the women in her family for more than a century. This was the one room in the house where she still felt Ouma's presence. Tonight she needed it as much as she'd needed it after the accident.

Sabrina switched on the light, let the shawl fall on the floor, and limped to the rocking chair Ouma used to sew in. Sabrina sat down and massaged her aching knee. "How dare he?" She sighed. "Ouma, I wish you were here," she whispered. Ouma had always know just what to say and do to make everything better.

Sabrina had resisted marrying Mark at first, especially because they knew each other such a short time. She'd still been reeling from the accident and Jennifer's death. It was as if everyone she dared care for left her, even if they had to die to leave her. As if fate decided to take everything at once, it took her mother then Jennifer. When Mikaela suddenly left to live in London, Sabrina had felt betrayed, but also relieved. If Mikaela was far away from her, maybe she wouldn't die.

Mark had convinced her, didn't give up on her, and now she was married to who knows what. A creature that could move like lightning and make his eyes glow like a freak show. Who enthralled young women and left his wife alone to go off and do who knows what?

Sabrina grabbed the measuring tape and threw it against the wall. It plopped down on the red Indonesian kilim before it reached its target. Furious she threw the scissors, and they hit the wall with a satisfying thump. "I'll show him, I'll kick him out of my house so fast his evil vampire head will spin."

She grabbed a spool of thread and threw that as well. Humiliating her in front of her best friend. The thought of him alone somewhere with Jo made her look around for something else to throw. Something that would make a satisfying shattering noise. Maybe then her heart would stop trying to break into a million pieces. Sabrina took a deep breath and picked up the scissors and the measuring tape.

"Deep breaths, Sabrina, sit down and look at the patterns," she said out loud.

The words Ouma had said to her so many times. Sabrina sat down and picked up the pattern she'd cut earlier.

Was fate telling her she was to be alone for the rest of her life? That she wasn't meant to have love. Maybe there was a higher purpose waiting for her. She picked up the paper pattern she'd cut the previous day and folded the material that was cut slightly bigger so it would fold over the paper pattern.

Her hands only shook a little. Breathing in and out, focusing only on the texture of the material, she pinned the material to the paper and then threaded her needle. Sewing everything by hand was a long process, but she enjoyed doing it this way. She'd made a name for herself creating handstitched silk quilts with traditional patterns.

Sabrina closed her eyes and forced her breathing to calm even more. This time, she managed to thread the needle with steady hands. Was he kissing Jo? Her hands trembled again and she stuck the needle into her finger. She swore, blinked away tears, and doggedly continued sewing.

The way the pattern came to life piece by piece soothed her.

Maybe she'd call this one blood and tears.

"I thought I'd find you here."

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