Page 24 of Waiting For Fate

“I’m so sorry.” I scoot my chair back from the table and rush upstairs—likely to die of embarrassment. I never lose my temper, and yet I just unleashed every bottled-up emotion I’ve had towards Sawyer for years in front of everyone.

What the hell is wrong with me?

I’m halfway up the stairs when a hand wraps around my bicep and I spin around to see Sawyer looking up at me.

“Please don’t go, Dove.” The pain in his eyes almost has me turning to walk closer towards him. That is, until my senses kick in, and I remember he’s the one that put us in this position to begin with. Making all the sadness I was beginning to feel turn back into anger.

“How dare you ask that of me when you were the one that left first.”

“I told you, I had to leave things that way.” The muscle in his jaw flexes, giving his face a hard appearance. A shocking contrast to the gentle hold he has on me still.

“Why?” I challenge, hoping he’ll give me some explanation that will douse the fiery anger I’ve been holding onto in regard to him.

“I told you why.” I shake my head at his answer.

“No, you didn’t. You may have given me a strikingly vague reason five seconds ago about why you left the way you did. But that doesn’t excuse the years of hurt and confusion you put me through by doing so. So now is your chance. Tell me why.” I cross my arms over my chest, giving him the floor to say what needs to be said. He looks around, letting his mouth pop open and shut a few times before it closes for good, and he shoves his hands in his front pockets.

“I had to learn to let you go when you left, Sawyer. Now it’s your turn. Let me go.” The pain that flashes through his eyes could damn near break my heart—if it wasn’t already broken.

He has no idea how many years I wished for him to look at me the way he is right now. Like he can’t stand the thought of losing me.

He finally releases my arm and I rush to the spare bedroom, locking the door behind me.

After weighing the pros and cons of jumping out the second story window to be able to leave undetected, someone knocks on the door.

“Leah, Sweetheart. Unlock the door.” I almost immediately start crying when I hear my mom’s voice on the other side. I take a deep breath in hopes of composing myself and unlock the door, but the moment I see the genuine concern in her eyes my lip begins to quiver all over again.

“So, it has nothing to do with a certain Clark boy moving back home, huh?”

“I’m fragile right now, Mother. Please don’t make jokes.” I choke out a laugh and turn to walk to the foot of the bed before falling back on it. I feel a dip in the mattress when Mom sits down beside me, her cool hand brushing through my hair comforting me the way only a mother can.

“You know we have to make jokes, or we will end up drowning in our tears.” I remember when my mom told me that the secret remedy to heartbreak was a rom-com. So you can laugh and cry all at once until one day, you’re left with only the laughter.

“I can’t control myself around him, Mom. I’m still so mad at him but I…” I bite down on my lip so hard to keep the next part of my sentence in that I can taste the blood that’s been drawn from the sensitive flesh.

“But you still love him.” I shoot up from the bed and rush to close the door.

“Mom! Do you want a megaphone? Sheesh.”

“Oh, Honey. If anyone doubted the way you felt about him before, they’re likely clued in now,” she laughs.

My head drops as I stare at the light wood grain floors in Taylor’s spare bedroom, wishing that tonight hadn’t happened.

That I hadn’t drank so much.

That he hadn’t looked straight at me with those sapphire blue eyes when he said he was thankful to be home.

That he didn’t still affect me the same way he did ten years ago.

“I don’t love him. I hate him.” My eyes burn and my throat feels dry, and I force the words out. “I hate him for not showing up that day for breakfast. I hate him for leaving and ignoring me, but never telling me why. I hate that I loved him for so long and he never saw it. And I hate that he’s finally looking at me the way I always looked at him.” I focus on the warmth of my tears running down my face, embracing my emotions before I pack them back up in their little box so I can face my friends again.

“Because it’s too late. He waited ten years too long to apologize, and now I don’t want to hear it.”

“There’s a fine line between love and hate, Leigh-Ann. Make sure you know with absolute certainty what side you’re standing on before you lose him again. If you need to hate him, then I’ll understand. But I love you too much to see you hurt like this if there’s a chance you could trade all of this hurt for happiness.” I shake my head as she caresses my cheek, wiping away the rest of my tears.

“I was on the other side before, Mom. Look at how that worked out for me. Maybe I’m just not meant to be in love.” My voice is such a low whisper I’m not even sure she heard me until I see the sympathy in her eyes.

Just as she looks as though she might say something, a soft knock sounds at the door and I push off it, turning just in time to see Shane peek her head in.

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