by Devin Sawyer
“Actually, I ordered in for us. There’s Chinese on the counter.”
I’m ready to tell him everything but I’m suddenly questioning the best way to do this. Before he’s even sat down to eat seems inappropriate, but I don’t know that I’ll ever find a good time. When he returns from the kitchen, he sits on the couch next to me with his container of beef and broccoli.
“Hey, I want to talk to you about something.” I cringe when I say it because it sounds like every cliché breakup line ever. Reece’s chopsticks pause midway to his mouth, sensing the severity in my tone.
“Yeah, I need to talk to you too, actually. You go first,” he offers tensely.
I take a deep breath, terrified to say it out loud.
“It’s Lawson,” is all I can say before my throat feels like it closes up. I clear it, hoping that will help. “We, uh.”
“Stop,” he demands, and his voice is harsh, a tone I have almost never heard from him. I know right now he’s putting it all together. The fact that I don’t have to say anymore tells me we were probably more conspicuous than we thought.
“Reece, I need to say it.”
“I don’t exactly think this is about you right now, Farah.” He slams his container of Chinese down and stands, pacing the living room. His frame is bowed out and angry and I’m unsure at this moment what to do from here.
“Actually, I think I’ll go first,” he finally says. “I got a call today from my father. I don’t usually take his calls because I prefer to email with him, it prevents him from cutting me off every time I speak, but I’m not sure why I felt I needed to answer today. I got the call maybe an hour before I arrived home and I thought to myself how strange it was that he would call me at that time. When he said there were photos of you and Lawson leaked to the press looking intimate at a restaurant, I thought surely this was a fucking misunderstanding. He sent me the photos that would be revealed by the press later tonight on the east coast. I looked at them, and I saw Lawson staring at my girlfriend like he was in love, but you… you looked impartial and I thought for maybe a moment, that I would come home, let you know the spin the media is trying to put on this story but that I knew you would have an explanation for why the two of you had dinner without telling anyone. I didn’t second guess you, not for a moment.” He laughs, a spiteful sound I’m not familiar with coming from his lips. “I guess I should have.”
The revelation that he saw this coming is hurtful. That today of all days this had to be revealed. For a half second, I wonder if Lawson had anything to do with it, but I know he would not choose to reveal something like this and never utilizing the media.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him, and it sounds like the most idiotic thing to ever leave my mouth.
“How long?” he asks. “How long was this happening? Since we arrived in Charleston? I really trusted that you had more restraint than this. You left HIM for Christ’s sake. You went to the other side of the GODDAMN COUNTRY,” he yells this last line and I jump a little.
I never expected this to be easy. I knew Reece would be hurt, but I didn’t expect the yelling. Tears begin to well in my eyes, and I want to hold them back, but can’t control it any further.
“Are you like fucking dating him and this is where you end things and run off back to him now? Real fucking classy.” Reece’s voice begins to crack, and I can tell the emotion of what’s happening is settling with him.
I let him yell and get all the questions out without trying to answer any of them until he finally collapses against the wall and slides down it until he sits across from me on the living room floor.
“Things got out of control. When he was here things were strange and I think old feelings just came up. What I did to Lawson all those years ago was wrong and I never should have left him like that, and I know that, but I felt like I owed him something.”
“What? A good lay?” Reece fires back and I try to keep going.
“I felt like I needed to give him closure the right way, and I agreed to a final week together, to allow him that closure, but it went farther than I would have liked.”
“I can’t fucking believe this. I can’t believe he would fucking do this to me.”
“Lawson didn’t want to hurt you. Neither of us did. He loves you.”
“NO, FARAH. HE LOVES YOU. He’s made that abundantly clear.” He wipes at his eyes and I do the same. “Well,” he says, sounding defeated. “Go to him then.”
“I’m not going to him,” I explain. Reece looks up, confused. “I told him today that I wasn’t going to continue things. I have chemistry with him, and I wish I didn’t. But I do not love Lawson the way I love you. Being with Lawson is like being on a roller coaster. The highs are fun, but the fall is dangerous, and I don’t miss that feeling. I miss you. I miss the way our relationship feels stable, probably not at this moment, and I’m willing to own full responsibility in that, but for me, you were always safe and comforting and I don’t need a life of roller coasters when I have something worthwhile to come home to.”
“Why wasn’t it enough the first time?” he asks, standing to his feet and walking out of the door of our apartment.
I finally let go of everything and cry the way I’ve been wishing I could, but feeling it wasn’t my right when I was the one who messed up. Reece has never left during a fight before and part of me isn’t sure if he will even come back tonight.
I wait around for him for hours. I don’t eat, and I don’t sleep because I want to punish myself with the pain. I want to hurt the way I hurt Reece. When he still hasn’t returned, I tune into the nightly news to catch the media scandal being released. I want my sins to be rubbed in my face. Yet, I can’t help but get hopeful when it’s not the first item on the news station, like maybe it won’t make breaking news at all, but shortly after there is a three-minute clip with video of my dinners with Lawson, and us entering an elevator together. The story speculates about the two of us, and a woman I don’t recognize reveals that she went to school with us and tells intimate details about our relationship back in Columbia that are only half correct. Lastly, I see a newswoman chasing down Lawson as he leaves his office and heads to his car.
I watch him on the news as he prepares an answer for the released photos. I study his eyes, his movements, his mannerisms. I know them all too well and when he finally shares his response, he doesn’t look annoyed at the journalist, even though I’m sure he’d like to clock her.
“I met Farah back at our Alma Mater, I guided her through some classes, and provided her support in some of her classes, and she was younger, newer to the area. We became fast friends, and yes, we hung out frequently together. Farah met Reece through our friendship. And I knew, in that moment that they first met, that those two were destined for each other. They were compatible in the most in sync ways. The photos of our dinner last week, are mere speculation and taken out of context. We had dinner as two old friends, who don’t get to see each other very often and happened to be traveling in the same town. These rumors are hurtful to both Farah, myself, and my family. The truth is that I am not married because being a senator is not an attractive job. It may appear elusive, and grand from the outside, but the truth is I spend more hours working than any of my counterparts and that’s not conducive to any healthy relationship. I love this state and its people, and if I plan to serve it to its best, then I have to be married to that commitment. Unfortunately, this has left me as an open target for fictitious scandals such as these.”
With that, he unlocks his car and steps inside, leaving the newscaster to close the story. I’m not sure if anyone will believe him, but his statement was genuine and likable despite the situation. I wonder if I will fare as well and remind myself how grateful I am that it’s unlikely they will track me down on the other side of the country.
Shortly after the news ends, I hear the front door slam shut. Reece’s footsteps can be heard briskly moving toward me in the bedroom and I cower down, knowing his wrath is coming.
When he appears through the doors, he is bundled in a coat and beanie, and his eyes are rimmed red with tears. My heart breaks when his voice does.
“I fell in love with you even when I shouldn’t have.”
He stops and paces the room, bringing his hand up to his mouth, trying to control his emotions, and my own masks his. I begin crying again for what feels like hours on end.
“I knew I could love you even back then, back when it was always you and Lawson. I wanted you so bad, but I thought maybe it was just a typical younger brother jealousy thing, but I know now that it was real. I know that sometimes you just feel a connection with a person, and you have to pursue it. I did. It may have been years later, and you were single finally, but I pursued it even when I probably should have left it alone. I know what that feeling is to be drawn to someone. What I need to know is, do you feel that for me?”
I sniff up my tears in an attempt to speak. “Yes. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to explain this in a way that makes sense, but I didn’t know it was possible to want to be with two different people.” I watch him wince. “I know that must hurt, but some part of me wants closure on my life with Lawson, it always felt like even though I left, it was everyone else’s choice. I was really confused when I saw him again and some of those feelings came back. Part of me wanted to be with him again, but the part that desperately wants to be with you never left and that is confusing as heck for someone to try and process alone. Having to choose, meant choosing between two VERY different lives and that in itself is a different question I had to ask myself. But I love you. More than anything and anyone, and at the end of the day, I didn’t think I could walk away from you. So I chose you and left him again.”
His face contorts and I can’t tell if he’s angry or grieving but I want to go to him and touch him, but I’m too afraid he would just push me away. I messed this up and need to give him his space.
“I hate that I still love you,” he says through tears, and I feel a splitting sensation in my chest. I don’t want him to hate that. I want it to always be the best part of us. I want to think that our love could overcome anything, because despite my mistakes, that’s how I feel. I feel like at the end of the day, no matter what, it will always be Reece I want my forever to be with. “I can’t promise you anything,” he says, shaking his head and finally meeting my eyes. “Like literally anything. But if I’m going to try to get past this, you can’t be around him ever again.”
“Yes, I know that. It’s done,” I say, hoping this is heading someplace reassuring.
“I don’t want to know about any of it. None of the details. If you haven’t already said it, I want you to take it to your grave.”
I nod my head again. This was essentially the same unspoken agreement we had prior to this regarding Lawson. We never discussed the intimacies of my relationship with him.
“I just want my life back. The one I had with you just months ago.”
“I want that too.”
“Never hurt me like that again,” he begs, looking into my eyes.
“Never,” I say it as a promise. “You and me,” I tell him. “Forever.”
The idea that he could still choose to leave has me terrified. A pit in my stomach which will probably never go away now that I’ve experienced the fear of losing the man I love most. I’m not sure why forever scared me so much before. The thought that committing to something as big and unknowing as marriage terrified me and right now, I would be so lucky if Reece ever wanted that with me ever again. I wanted forever with him, but it took me closing an old chapter in my life to get there.
“Okay,” he breathes out. “Then let’s try again.”
THE END.
For more of Farah’s story, look for book 2 in the Love & Desire Series in 2020.
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
To Ellie (and all of those at My Brother’s Editor), whom I dedicated this book to, that should be enough thanks… but if it’s not, then know I appreciate the way you respond to every message I send you within minutes. I appreciate the thorough job you do on all my work, and the quality you continue to produce. I publish feeling confident because of the job you do.
To the bloggers: I am so grateful for each and every one of you that your love of reading brought you to me. Thanks for the time you spend sharing and reading and posting. I understand what a timely and thankless job it is and the fact that you gave me that time is truly amazing.
To my beta readers: I am so grateful for your assistance. Your feedback helped me to shape my words and ideas into an even stronger work. I’m sure without some of y’all’s supportive remarks I would not have moved forward with this process.
To my formatter Abby: Thank you for being a breeze to work with.
To my cover designer, Danielle Dickson: Your work is beautiful, and it gave a face to this novel that I had dreams about and spent countless hours working on. Thank you for that.
To my husband: Thanks for letting me skip the gym a whole bunch of times because “I have to get this chapter finished.”
To one of my best friends in the world, Megan: Thanks for always reading my shit and giving me honest opinions. Your eye for detail definitely means I’ll keep you around for a few more years. The Backstreet Boys concerts and strip clubs are just an added bonus to our friendship.
And last, but not least, to the readers. I thank you for making it this far and for giving my book a chance. I only endeavor to improve my creative process with each book, and I hope you find more works by me in the future. To stay in the loop follow me at the links below:
Facebook: www.facebook.com/devinsawyerbooks
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Website: www.devinsawyerbooks.com
Newsletter: www.devinsawyerbooks.com (I promise not to spam you with junk. Just updates on book-related things.)
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
Devin Sawyer is a contemporary romance writer who enjoys a bit of dirty humor. If you have a dirty joke, she’s the first one that wants to hear it. She grew up in a small Texas town and still enjoys quiet country towns. She started out writing at a young age with moody, depressing, poetry—mostly about unrequited teenage love. But enough about the dark times. Now, Devin prefers to write witty romantic comedies with hard-hitting issues. Devin has a master’s in social work and is independently licensed as a therapist. She finds reading and writing a pleasant escape from real-world stressors. Her favorite reads are forbidden love stories.
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