by S. Herrera
I close the distance between us, coming up to stand next to Knox. “Sawyer—” before another word can leave my mouth, Knox’s hand is on my chest.
“It’s been a long night.” He steps in front of me, putting himself between Sawyer and I, making it clear that I’m not getting close to her right now.
I nod, accepting that we won't be figuring this out tonight. And without a word, I take two slow steps backwards, giving Sawyer a chance to protest. To ask me to stay. When she doesn't do either of those things, I turn on my heel and walk back up to the deck. Though the doors, the kitchen, and back out the front door.
I pause in front of the gate. Just hours ago, we were joking and reminiscing about how it all started. About how I got the girl. Or at least I thought I did.
The gate clicks closed behind me and I keep walking to my car. If I stop again, I might not be able to stop myself from running back and begging her to talk to me.
By the time I'm behind the wheel, my thoughts start to change. I no longer feel the urge to beg her. She's been trying to push me away since things got started to get serious with us. And she has made it clear what she wants.
The tapping on my window nearly scares the life out of me. I was so wrapped up in my own thoughts that I hadn't even noticed Everly follow me outside.
I roll down the window and wait for her tell me whatever she followed me for.
“Are you okay?”
“No.” I want to laugh or yell. Something to make this awful feeling go away. But I won't take my anger out on her, she doesn't deserve it.
“We'll take care of her. Just go home, get some sleep and things won't seem so bad in the morning. I’m sure once she has a chance to calm down and sleep it off, she'll be ready to talk.”
“Thanks, Ev.”
She reaches in and squeezes my shoulder reassuringly. But the sad smile is anything but. “Drive safe.”
I turn the key and put my car in gear. As I pull away from the curb, my mind is racing. I can't help but wonder how I ended up being the bad guy in this situation. I only ever wanted to love Sawyer, to protect her, and be there for her.
I told her as much. I keep showing her my heart, and each time she crushes it. She wants to push me away, and this time…this time, I’m going to let her.
On the way to my place, my phone buzzes with text messages and rings through the Bluetooth with phone call after phone call from Wren. Charlotte must have already told him everything.
Finally, when I’m only a few blocks from campus, I answer one of his many calls.
“Wren, I don’t want to talk about it.”
“Fine. I’ll talk.”
I let out a frustrated breath, but I don't argue. What's the point?
“Are you home yet?” He asks like an overprotective dad.
“Almost.” I answer, like an annoyed teenager. Which somehow has me smiling.
“Charlotte called and was worried about you. She wanted me to make sure that you made it home safe.”
At this, I instantly soften and remind myself that my friends care about me and only want what’s best for me. Even if I don’t always agree.
“Tell her that I said thank you. I’m pulling into the parking lot right now.”
“I’ll let her know.” The line goes silent for a moment and he must be thinking of how to word what he wants to say. “Wyatt, you are a good man. I don’t need to remind you of what she has been through, but that doesn’t mean your feelings don’t matter. Just remember that timing is everything.”
Cryptic. “Thanks.”
“Anytime. Call me if you need me.”
Then he ends the call and I’m left staring at a picture of Sawyer that I took while she ate popcorn at our first Duke game together.
I watch Wyatt walk away from me once again, through another door. And somehow it hurts so much worse than the first time. This time feels different.
Once I’m sure he’s left the house, I bolt while everyone is still stunned and staring at the empty doorway. I run straight into the house, slowing to a walk when I reach the hall. At the end is the spare bedroom I've stayed in before. I push the door open, intending to close it behind me but it's stopped by a foot.
“We are going to talk about this.” My brother's voice booms in the small room.
“I don't want to talk about this with you.” I sit on the bed and look down at the fluffy carpet. If I have to see the disappointment in his eyes any longer, I'll break.
“What were you thinking? Did you forget about what he did to you? Because I haven't, I still remember exactly what you looked like when I got to the hotel after you called me to come get you. I remember forcing you to go to the hospital. And I remember the days, weeks, months after you came home—”
I stand, cutting off whatever he was going to say next. “I get it, Knox! You’re disappointed! I’m sorry, okay!” I yell, barely restraining the rage and pain flooding me. Then I quickly run out of steam. Sitting back down on the bed with my head in my hands, my next words coming out as a weak plea. “But you can’t make this decision for me. I need to do this. I have my reasons. You just have to trust me.”
I hear his intake of breath as though he is gearing up for another rant. Instead, the sound of retreating footsteps fills the room and I look up to see my mom in his place. She closes the space between us, sitting next to me on the bed and pulling my head into her lap.
Mom runs a comforting hand over my hair, letting me cry for a few minutes before asking if I want to talk about it. Instinctively I want to say no. But something inside me finally snaps. I tell her everything that's happened since my birthday. Every text, call, and visit.
“I didn't want to involve anyone else. I just wanted to handle it and move one.”
“I can understand that. But can you see where they’re coming from and why they would be worried? Agreeing to meet with this boy alone and not telling anyone about it or the harassment and stalking.” Knowing I'm about to argue, she lifts her hand to keep me from talking. “Because that's what this is. It wasn't the smartest or safest choice. Not after what he has already put you though.”
“I was going to meet him in a public place. But I couldn't tell Wyatt or Knox. They would have never allowed it to happen.” I shake my head in frustration, hating that I have to try and explain myself. But also feeling relief that I can finally share this with someone else. “I need this, Mom. To let him know that he didn’t break me, that he didn’t win. To find closure so that I can have a healthy, functional relationship.”
“With Wyatt?”
“Yeah, I think so. That’s why I need to put this all behind me.”
“While I understand, I want you to know this. You don’t need his closure. You are a strong and amazing young woman that I am proud to call my daughter.”
“Thank you.” I say through tears and throw myself into my mom’s open arms. Feeling safe and loved by the woman I hope to be half as strong as one day.
“You could have come to us.” This time my mom is the one to hang her head. “I wish we would have been there for you. We should have brought you home sooner.”
She is on the verge of tears and I don’t know what to do. I haven't seen my mom cry like this very often in my life. She's always so happy, to busy holding the rest of us together for anyone to see this side of her.
It's sobering to see that my mom isn't perfect, always put together. Sometimes she falls apart just like me.
“I should have tried harder.” She whispers between the light sobs racking her body.
“Mom, we both know I wasn't coming home until I made that decision on my own. Unfortunately, it took what it did to get me here.”
“Why?” The million-dollar question.
“Erik was great, until he wasn't.” I tell her many of the same things I told Wyatt just last night.
I told her about what I now know is gaslighting. Him constantly using my fears and insecurities against me. Everything he convinced me of, especially that my famil
y wouldn't want me back.
There's a moment where I think her head might explode, but her anger quickly turns to devastation. “Oh, honey.” She pulls me into a hug.
Every word that comes from her mouth is reassuring me of how much she loves me, and that she will do whatever it takes to help build our relationship back up.
After what feels like hours of talking to Mom, my dad finally makes an appearance. “How are you doing, Bug?”
I take a deep calming breath before answering. “I'll be okay,” I tell him, and it's the truth. I know that I will eventually be okay. I have been healing every day since I came home. This thing with Erik is just a big bump in the road. I know that once I settle things with him, once and for all, things will get better.
“We should probably get going. We've got a drive ahead of us.” He looks to my mom, as if she needs the reminder. Then he looks to me, “Do you want to come home with us?”
“I appreciate that, Dad. But I'm going to stay here tonight.” I stand and let him take me into his arms. His hug says so much more than his words. My brother had to get his lack of communication skills and feeling sharing from him.
“You call if you need anything and cut your brother and that Matthews kid some slack. They both care about you very much.”
“I know.” And I do, but it doesn’t fix everything.
My parents hug me tight and are sure to tell me at least a dozen times how much they love me and are proud of me. It hurts a little bit because I have to wonder if it’s because they are worried about me running again.
I can’t blame them. I’ve done it every time things have gotten hard in the past. But that’s not who I am anymore.
They aren’t gone long before there is a light knock on the door. I’m still sitting at the edge of the bed in the same place they left me when I say, “Come in.”
Everly peeks her head around the door. “Hey,” she takes a few steps in, holding up a glass of water and a pair of what looks like pajamas as a peace offering. “I brought cozy clothes and some water.”
“Thank you.” I stand taking them both from her.
“We just got Emmy down, so we are going to head to bed. Charlotte is down the hall talking to Wren. Just let me know if you need anything.” Her smile is so soft and caring that it almost has me in tears again.
“I’m so sorry that this happened. Especially on Emmy’s birthday.” Guilt slams into me like a truck and I suddenly feel sick to my stomach.
“Don’t even go there. She had the perfect birthday and you helped with that. If it makes you feel any better, I ruined Charlotte’s birthday party when your brother found out I was pregnant with Emmy.”
“Yeah, good times.” My brother’s monotone voice echoes down the hallway causing both of us to chuckle.
“Just get some sleep, Sawyer. I promise things will look better tomorrow. They won’t be fixed, but they’ll seem a little more manageable.” She turns and leaves me alone in the room with my thoughts.
I down about half the glass of water, wishing I would have drank more water in between glasses of wine. Then I change into the sweats and t-shirt, thankful that she thought to bring them to me. Finally, I turn off the light and climb into bed, pulling the covers over my head.
It’s not long before the tears come again. You’d think I would eventually run out, but tonight they seem to be endless.
I miss the feel of Wyatt in bed next to me. A part of me is scared that I might have messed everything up between us tonight. He’s such a patient and understanding man, but even that can only last for so long before he decides he can’t take the push and pull anymore.
I worry about the fact it was Everly and not my brother that came in. I know I hurt him and broke his trust, but I had my reasons that I hope he learns to accept. I appreciate everything he did for me, and I know what he had to witness as an older brother still weighs on him. It doesn’t change what I still feel like I need to do.
I eventually exhaust myself with my spinning thoughts and cry myself to sleep. Hoping Everly is right about things looking better in the morning. Because tonight, they look terrible.
chapter sixteen
I swing the door open, not caring that I push it with enough force that it slams back into the wall. I’m tired and cranky. After a long day of classes, I only have a few hours break until I have to head up a study group at the library. I need a nap.
Between studying for finals and everything that went down with Sawyer this weekend, I am mentally and physically exhausted. We haven’t talked since the fight, and that was a few days ago. Neither of us has tried to contact the other. Maybe that’s for the best. Everly at least let me know the next day that Sawyer was doing okay.
I drop my books on the coffee table and drop myself down on the couch. Leaning back, I tuck a pillow under my head and kick my feet up on the arm. Instantly, my eyes start to droop, feeling myself starting to doze. Finals week is stressful enough on its own. Add in the craziness that is my personal life along with not sleeping and it becomes hell.
I should probably set an alarm on my phone to make sure that I wake up in time to get to the library, but that would mean sitting up and opening my eyes, ruining the sleep that is so close.
Buzz.
No. Nope. Not checking that right now.
Buzz.
Groaning loudly, I pull my phone from my pocket and glance at the screen. The world must be against me today. A ruined nap and texts from Knox, just fucking great.
Knox: Do you know the park down the street from Sawyer’s?
Knox: Be there in 10 min.
Oh sure, because that sounds like a great idea.
Me: Why?
Knox: Now.
I try again.
Me: Why?
I sit there for a good three minutes until I realize he isn't going to give me an answer. For a moment I consider ignoring him, but if it has anything to do with Sawyer...
“Ugh.” I groan in frustration getting up from the couch and gather up my books again. Chances are I won’t have time to come back before heading to the library.
I walk out my door, locking it behind me and cursing Knox every step of the way to my car.
When I pull into the parking lot of the park, I spot Knox right away. The guy kind of sticks out in a park, decked out in his three-piece suit and sunglasses that are no doubt, expensive as hell.
I climb out of my car, press the lock button on the key fob, and meet him on the sidewalk. He nods his head in greeting and waits for me to fall in step beside him. We start heading in the direction of the coffee cart at the other end of the parking lot.
I look out over the expanse of the park, looking for a clue as to why we are here. All I find is children laughing and playing on a large play structure, plots of green grass, and massive trees placed randomly throughout.
“Are you going to tell me why you drug me out here?” I finally ask.
“Sawyer’s here. And she’s with meeting Erik.”
“What?” I stop in my tracks to look at him, but he keeps walking, so I move quickly to catch back up.
“Everly told me I should call you and bring you along. Something about you being nicer, and me being too much of a dad. She said not to do anything stupid.” He shrugs it off.
I barely hear what he says because when I start walking again, I look straight ahead and see her. After days of not talking, and the way we left things, it hurts more than I expected it to.
She’s walking away from the cart, coffee in hand, side by side with a guy I’m assuming is Erik. As I get closer, I can see that he even looks like a freaking musician. Shaggy hair, excessive jewelry, torn up jeans, combat boots, and even the military jacket.
As we approach them, Sawyer and Erik sit across from each other at one of the square metal tables placed around the cart. Knox marches right up, taking one of the empty seats.
“What the hell?” Erik says, while Sawyer looks between her brother and I in disbelief.
I w
alk to the chair across from Knox. Instead of sitting in it, I grip the back of the chair and lean slightly forward, becoming a wall between Sawyer and Erik.
“How's it going?” Knox pushes his sunglasses onto the top of his head, leaning back in his chair, getting comfortable.
“Why are you guys here, together?” Sawyer stands, pushing back from the table abruptly and almost knocking her chair over.
Erik is on his feet next, causing my body to tense, and I straighten my posture. I angle my body so that I can keep blocking Sawyer from Erik.
He eyes me up and down before asking, “Who is this guy?”
“Doesn’t matter,” Sawyer blurts as Knox coolly replies, “He's the boyfriend.”
I see a flash of anger in Erik's eyes before I tear mine away from him to look back at Sawyer. But she avoids my eyes by looking down at the grass, kicking a hole into the ground with her running shoe.
Finally, Knox gets out of the chair, coming around to the table to stand closer to Erik. Glancing at Knox, Erik moves away and starts to walk towards Sawyer, bumping my shoulder as he passes.
“I can’t believe you did this.” Sawyer glares at Knox before taking a few steps further away from the table.
Erik continues to follow her as she walks away. “What the hell is going on, Sawyer? Is he really your boyfriend?” I’m quick to close the distance between us when he starts to raise his voice. I wait all of two seconds before placing a firm hand on his shoulder, keeping him from going any further.
Erik’s face contorts in anger when Wyatt’s hand lands on his shoulder. Whipping around to face him, Erik pulls his arm back like he’s going to throw a punch. Only, before either him or Wyatt get a chance to react, Knox is there. He lands a blow to the side of Erik’s face and I can’t help the shout that comes out of my mouth.
“Knox!”
“I’ve been wanting to do that for so long.” He smirks and shakes his hand out. “Erik, I think it’s time for you to leave, buddy.”