Page 64 of Sawyer

I curl up in a ball and stay that way until morning.

***

Sawyer is waiting for me outside of the theater the next evening, and he’s been there for a while if his pink cheeks are any indication.

“We need to talk.”

I nod. “I agree. We do.”

“Why’d you leave last night?”

“I had to. There was something I needed to do.”

“You’re not a cheater, Ivy.”

My cheeks flush with shame. “Last night I was.”

“He cheated onyou! Way worse than a kiss!” Sawyer bellows. “Right this second, he’s probably…”

“Probably what?”

He looks down at his boots and shakes his head, his jaw tightening and releasing.Tension. “Nothing. Forget it.”

I consider telling him that I’ve broken off my engagement, but I still need a little time to process what I learned about myfather last night.He couldn’t give a shit about your happiness. The words have circled in my mind ever since, endlessly, brutally. Here I was, stupidly thinking that marrying Clark might heal something in my father’s heart, in our relationship. But now I have to face the truth. It’s possible, even probable, that my father doesn’t love me. Maybe he never learned how to love, or maybe he just doesn’t care. But if he doesn’t care about my happiness, it means I need to protect myself. Some people are toxic to you, and sometimes those people are your own parents.

“Hey…” Sawyer puts his hand on my arm. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” I say. “Just thinking.”

He stares at me for a second, and I get the feeling he’s gearing up to say something.

“Ivy…I feel like…I mean, I don’t want to miss my chance to make a case for you and me, but I suck at timing. If now’s not the right time…”

A wave of tenderness makes me sway toward him just slightly. Oh, how I wish I could bury myself in his arms forever, shut out the rest of the world, and never think about Clark or my father ever again. Sawyer notices my wobble and moves his hand under my arm, holding me steady.

“Should I be worried about you?” he asks me.

“I want to hear the case for you and me. I definitely want to hear it,” I tell him, reaching for his face with a mittened hand. “But can you wait? Just a little bit? I’m—I’m dealing with something right now…with my dad…and I need to process it before—”

“I’ve got you,” says Sawyer, gazing at me with so much love, I can’t believe I ever thought I could let him go. It seems unthinkable now. Unfathomable.

“I know you do,” I whisper.

Just then, a light snow starts to fall, tiny white crystals dotting his hair and my parka and the boardwalk at our feet.

“It’s snowing,” he says, grinning at the sky like a little kid. My heart squeezes with love for him. “First snowfall of the year.”

I smile at his face, because I’m fairly sure that Skagway’s first snowfall of the season has nothing on Sawyer Stewart enjoying it. Leaning up on tiptoes, I place a mittened hand on one of his cheeks and press my lips to the other. At some point, he covers my hand with his, leaning his face into my touch.

I love you, I love you, I love you, I think, before drawing away.

When I open my eyes and look up at him, his expression is sharp, intense, like he’s trying to figure something out. He reaches for my hand and pulls it away from his face, running his index finger over my mittened ring finger. My nowemptyfinger.

His eyes, wide with an urgent question, flick back to my hand, and he tugs at the tip of my mitten. He pulls it off to reveal my naked finger. Blinking at it, as though he can’t believe what he’s seeing, he jerks his gaze to me.

I nod at him in confirmation.

“You’re not engaged?” he murmurs, his body tense as he waits for my answer.

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