by S. Herrera
He presses a kiss to the top of my head. “I don’t want an out Sawyer. I want you, however I can have you.” He squeezes me, “We'll cross any bridges when we get there.”
My self-control has reached its limit. I can no longer hold back the tears, the sobs.
“We’re stuck in this perpetual state of never feeling like we are good enough.” Wyatt laughs, but there is no humor in it.
Leaning back, he gets comfortable on the couch, pulling me up so that he can hold me against his chest. I revel in the safety he makes me feel. And I wish that I was strong. That I could tell him the truth about everything.
If he knew about Erik, he would lose his mind, and most likely tell Knox. Especially since the texts turned into phone calls. And just the other day he showed up on campus.
I am finally finished with my last class and walking across the quad to the student parking lot. Checking the time on my phone, I confirm that it's only another hour until Wyatt will be done with his classes and head back to my apartment.
Last night he had a late study group and stayed on campus. I missed him and am really looking forward to having dinner together tonight, even if it's just take-out Chinese on my couch.
Things have been stressful with classes and Erik escalating from texts to calls. But it’s been three whole days since the last time I heard from him. I feel like I can finally breathe a sigh of relief.
“Sawyer!”
At the sound of that voice saying my name, I freeze. My brain screams at my legs to move, but they don't listen.
“I've been trying to get ahold of you. Are you ignoring me?” He keeps talking as he walks closer.
And I still can't bring myself to move. To run.
When his hand lands on my shoulder, finally, my fight or flight reaction kicks in.
“I'm sorry. I've got to go.” And my legs move when I tell them to.
I run through the crowds of people milling about, all the way to the parking lot. I don't stop to check for cars while I dig out my keys, and furiously press the unlock button.
I climb in my car, pulling out and making it only three blocks away before I park on the side of the road. I breathe deeply, hoping to keep the panic attack I know is coming at bay.
When I get back to the apartment, I order our dinner and take a quick shower before Wyatt gets here. Getting rid of the tear-stained makeup, the blotchy face… the evidence that Erik still has some control over me.
I don’t want to include Wyatt in my Erik drama. I’m worried if anyone else is involved it will only make the situation worse.
Sure, seeing him the other day scared me a little bit. But things only got physical between us that one time, and it’s been over a year since that happened. He probably just wants to see me face to face so that he can tell me about how he moved on when I left. Or about some awesome record deal they got now that he isn’t dragging me around with him.
I’m not only scared of his fists, I’m scared of his words. Just his attempts of contact have me retreating back into the shell of a person I used to be with him. And I refuse to go there again. I refuse to let him have that control.
Just three more hours of this shift, then I get to go home and get ready. Wyatt and I have plans to go out to dinner tonight. Like a real date.
It’s been weeks since we’ve been able to carve out time for us to do something like this, and we need it. Even though we talked it out a bit, things have been tense due to our argument from a few days ago lingering over us.
I’m making an iced chai latte with oat milk for a customer, using up the last of the container for the drink. I place the drink at the end of the counter and call out the customer’s name. Turning to Kelsay, another college girl that works here, I let her know that I am going back to grab another case of oat milk.
She gives me a thumbs up as she finishes the last customer’s drink from our afternoon rush. I push through the doors and go down a narrow hallway that leads to the back storeroom.
Easily, I locate the blue box on the shelf designated for dairy alternatives and pull it down, carrying it back with me. As I'm walking back, I hear the door chime, indicating the last customer has left. But before I make it to the doors, I hear it chime again.
I can't explain the how or why a feeling of dread washes over me, but it does. And when I hear his voice, I once again stop in my tracks, only gaining enough courage to tip toe forward so that I can peek through the little window on the door.
“Is Sawyer Coleman here?” He asks, turning the charm all the way up.
“Why are you asking?”
“I'm just an old friend back in town. I'd like to catch up with her and heard she works here.”
“She’s not working today. But if you want to write your information down,” Kelsay says sliding a notepad across the counter to him. “I will pass it along.”
I watch as Erik scribbles down a note, folds the paper in half and passes it back to her. When he finally turns to leave, I’m able to breathe a sigh of relief. But it’s short lived because I quickly realize that I need to handle this situation, now.
Pushing through the doors, I make my presence known to Kelsay. “Thank you for that.”
“No problem. I didn’t like his vibe.” She shrugs, not making a big deal and I appreciate it. “Ex-boyfriend?”
I don’t answer right away as I unload the box and put all but one carton on the shelf. Grabbing the last carton, I walk to the fridge and place it in there. “Yeah. It didn’t end great.”
She finally tears her eyes from the door and hands me the note. “Here.”
I take the note, shoving it in my apron and telling myself that I will read it when my shift it over.
A few hours later we are being seated at the restaurant. On paper, this should be the perfect night. Just Wyatt and I enjoying each other’s company and having a romantic dinner together.
Erik’s visit to the coffee shop today put me in a funk, one I just can’t seem to shake. I don't want to ruin dinner or let Wyatt think that he's done anything. We've been looking forward to this dinner all week. So, I will pull myself together and enjoy this dinner.
“Where's your head, babe?” Wyatt places his hand in the middle of the table, palm up waiting for mine.
I reach across and take hold of his hand. “Right here with you.”
He flashes that grin that seem to be only for me, and suddenly life feels a little more doable. I remind myself that he is here. He is my now. Erik is my past.
And as though he knew the thoughts running through my head.... my phone buzzes and I slip it from my pocket to check it.
Erik: I came to see you today. I just want to talk.
“Everything okay?” I raise my eyes to meet Wyatt’s.
Tell him. Tell him. Tell him.
“Yeah.” I set my phone face down on the table, only for it to buzz immediately.
Erik: Why did you run off the other day?
“Sawyer.” Wyatt squeezes my hand to get my attention. “What’s going on?”
“Nothing.” I pull my hand from his but can’t bring myself to tear my eyes away from the text.
“Then can you put your phone away while we have dinner?” He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms in frustration.
Something inside of me snaps at his behavior. And no matter how wrong I know I am, I still can't stop the words coming from my mouth.
“You aren't my dad. I don't need you telling me what to do. I won't tolerate another guy trying to control me, Wyatt.”
I stare across the table at Sawyer in pure shock. Where in the world did she get the idea that I’m trying to control her?
“Sawyer, I'm not trying to control you by asking you to put your phone away while we have a real date night for the first time in weeks. What is going on?”
“Nothing, okay? Nothing. Please stop asking me that.” She throws her hands in the air adding emphasis to every word.
“I'm sorry, I don't know what else to say. Something happened
, and I'm trying to fix it. But I can't if I don’t even know what it is.” I lower my voice to a harsh whisper, remembering that we are sitting in the middle of a crowded restaurant.
Sawyer drops her head into her hands, and I look around to see how much attention we are drawing to ourselves. They all look away in an attempt to pretend that they are being polite. All except for one middle aged man with a family who looks at me and throws a sympathetic smile my way.
Knowing what I do about her past, I always try to be patient with Sawyer. I try to understand what Erik put her through, even though she hasn’t given me all the details. But at some point, I have to consider how I deserve to be treated.
It isn’t fair for her to project Erik’s wrong doings onto me. Especially when I’m only expressing my concern about her well-being and our relationship.
“I’m not hungry anymore.” She mumbles with her head still in her hands.
I dig my keys out of my pocket and set them on the table in front of her. “I’ll pay then take you home.”
She looks up, dropping her hands away from her face. The surprise and hurt that takes over her face is almost enough to make me take it back. But the hurt and anger simmering right beneath the surface of my cool demeanor won’t allow it.
Taking the hint that I have nothing else to say, she pushes her chair back from the table and walks out of the restaurant. I sigh in frustration with her and myself. I flag down the waitress and give her my debit card. Luckily, we only made it through ordering drinks, so we don’t have to wait on any food.
After I sign the receipt and get my card back, I head out to the car where Sawyer is waiting. Climbing in the front seat, I don’t say a word and start the car. The silence continues as I pull out of the parking lot and drive through town to her condo.
I don’t pull into the parking garage. Instead, I park on the street, walking up with her only to gather my books for class.
“I’m going to stay on campus tonight. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
Sawyer is leaning against the wall with her arms crossed. She opens her mouth to argue, then thinks better of it.
I throw all my books into a backpack and cross the room to stand in front of her. Racking my brain, I try to find the right words. But I don’t have any, so I press my lips to her forehead and let them linger before pulling away and leaving.
When I get back in my car, I dial Wren before pulling back onto the street.
“Hey man! Hold on a sec.” I hear voices and what sounds like bar noise in the background for a few seconds before it goes quiet. “Sorry about that. I’m outside now. What’s up?”
“Girl trouble. But if this isn’t a good time you can call me back later.”
“Awh, man. What did you do?” he asks, ignoring the second half of what I said.
“I didn’t do anything… She’s just been acting weird since we got back from the road trip and she won’t tell me what’s going on. We got in another fight tonight at dinner and she went off about me trying to control her. I know what she’s been through, but I don’t know man…” I’m stopped at a red light, watching cars pass through the intersection.
“I’m sorry. That’s a hard one, man.” Wren says, and I can just picture him standing outside a bar full of celebrating baseball players, rubbing his chin and thinking of the best advice to give. My best friend will be the greatest dad.
“It’s okay. I just needed to vent. I didn’t mean to interrupt the celebration with your team. Congrats by the way.” I accelerate forward when the light changes and drive the rest of the way home on auto pilot with Wren talking the entire time.
“It’s no problem man. Truthfully, I’m just sitting in the booth, drinking root beer and texting Charlotte. They just brought me along to be their designated driver anyways.” He laughs, playing down the fact that he is the team’s starting pitcher, and a big reason they won their game tonight.
“If you called for my advice, here it is. I think you should just keep being patient with her. The poor girl has been through a lot, and maybe she’s going through something else right now. But whatever it is, she isn’t ready to deal with it and that’s not something you can force.”
We like to joke about Wren being the wise dad of the group. Always knowing the right things to say and giving the best advice. But it’s all true.
“You’re right.” I huff.
“Maybe just let her know how you feel. Talk about it instead of pushing these feelings down.”
When he says this, I know that I made a mistake by just walking out and not explaining to her the why. But I felt like we needed time, and still do, to cool off before either one of us said something stupid.
“Alright, man. Thanks. I’ll give it a few days and let us both have some time to think. Then I will talk to her.”
“Great. I knew I could talk some sense into you.”
He laughs, and I join him. And for a just a second, it feels like we’re eighteen and throwing a baseball around in the field behind his parents’ house. Just talking about girls and baseball.
“Thanks, Wren. I’ll talk to you later, go have fun with your team. And tell Charlotte hi for me.”
Click.
The sound of the door shutting behind him is loud in the otherwise silent room. I keep waiting for him to walk back in, but then I hear the faint ding of the elevator coming from the hallway.
He’s actually leaving.
I should run after him. Apologize, and tell him the truth about Erik. I should, but I don’t. Instead, I stay, leaning up against this wall in the same place he left me.
If I went after him and told him everything, would it even make a difference at this point?
I've never seen Wyatt as angry as he was tonight. No, angry isn't the right word to described it. Hurt. He was hurt.
“Shit, what did you do, Sawyer?” I walk over to the couch, sinking into the cushions and replaying the conversation over and over in my head.
After sitting on the couch and staring at the door for about thirty minutes, I lose all hope that he might be coming back. I walk to the door and lock it. Then turn off all the lights, one by one, as I head to my room.
I pull out a pair of sweats and one of Wyatt’s Duke hoodies that he left here and get cozy. Though it’s still a little early, I crawl into bed without even washing my face and bury myself in all my blankets. I lay there, alone in the dark and think about everything that went wrong tonight. The texts from Erik and Wyatt’s frustration.
His behavior at the restaurant is where my mind keeps coming back to. I could see the annoyance and disappointment written across his face. Especially when I accused him of trying to control me. I knew when I said it that I was projecting my feelings about Erik onto him, and it wasn’t fair.
But when he told me what to do, I just snapped. Then he went and proved me wrong by keeping his cool, giving me my space, and getting me back home safely. All things that he should do, but not all things that have been done for me in the past.
It’s Wyatt. I should have known that he wouldn’t react out of anger or yell at me. But there is a part of me that has learned to expect it and prepare for it. With Erik I was always on edge and quickly stopped standing up for myself in the way I did tonight. The way that I always do with Wyatt with no fear of consequences.
I burrow down into my blankets further, wishing I could turn off my brain and just sleep. But when the bed feels this empty, it’s hard to not feel the emptiness in my heart too.
chapter fourteen
Since our fight a few days ago I haven't seen Sawyer, but we have been texting back and forth. Tonight she asked me to come over for dinner so that we can talk. When I arrive at her place, things still feel a little awkward between us. As she holds open the door for me to come in, I brush past her without taking her into my arms or kissing her senseless like I've done nearly every time I've come over in the past.
“How were your classes today?” She asks, closing the door behind me and following me into
the living room where I drop down my duffle bag.
She'd asked me to stay when she texted me this morning. And that was about the only way that I knew this wasn't a breakup dinner.
“They were good. Long, but good. Getting close to final exams, so mainly a review. What about yours?”
“Same. But I just remind myself how far behind I am and how that's the whole reason I'm taking these summer courses anyway.” She turns and walks to the kitchen. “So, we should probably talk about everything...” She says the words, but it's easy to see that's the last thing she wants to do.
I cross the room to join her in the kitchen where she is leaning against the counter. Cupping her face between my hands I pull her in for a kiss. It starts soft and slow, but quickly turns hurried and needy.
Her arms wrap around my neck, fingers winding their way into my hair. There is desperation in the way her mouth consumes mine, and I can't explain the feeling. Like somehow, I know we are on borrowed time.
I should stop this kiss. Insist we talk first. I shouldn't let her deepen the kiss and swallow her moans when I run my hands through her hair.
I definitely shouldn't lift her up on the island and pull her shirt over her head, placing soft kisses down her neck. Letting her heavy breaths drive me further from sanity.
Her hands move to my t-shirt, pulling it over my head and reaching for the button of my pants. I let her undo my pants, but I stop her hands before she pushes them down. Digging my fingers into the waistband of her running shorts, I drag them down her legs and toss them somewhere across the room.
I grip her thighs and tug her to the edge of the counter while she frantically pushes my jeans down, exposing my need for her.
Sawyer’s lips crash down on mine as I line myself up with her, sliding in with little control. Her kisses are frantic, trailing down my neck and collar bone.
Her nails dig into my shoulders as my pace quickens. Only with Sawyer has sex felt like a need. Like I will never get enough of her.