Page 38 of For the Record

With another sigh, she reluctantly got up, reaching for the remote and shutting the TV off. Next, she took Sawyer’s cell from where it peaked out under the pillow and set both on the coffee table. She retrieved the blanket from the floor, and her heart was a mess as she carefully draped it over Sawyer.

“Good night,” she whispered, bending to give Sawyer a soft kiss on her forehead. The scent of her skin was incredible, and Coy couldn’t help but breathe her in as she slowly pulled away. Fuck she was beautiful, with soft snores pushing out past her parted lips. Coy swallowed, backing away to pick up her plate again. She gave Sawyer one last lingering look before dimming the lights and leaving the room.

Chapter 19

Sawyer

Never in her lifehad Sawyer felt such extreme exhaustion. She was tiredallthe time. Going up a flight of stairs to her bedroom wore her out so much that she had to take a breather before going ahead with whatever had brought her up there to begin with. Yesterday, she slept past her alarm. She couldn’t recall the last time she’d done that, if ever. In fact, it was Bree who had turned off the alarm in the end, gently shaking Sawyer awake to ensure she was still alive.

There was a knock on Sawyer’s bedroom door before Bree stuck her head in. “Oh, you’re up, perfect. Need help getting dressed?”

Sawyer shot her an annoyed look, turning back to her task. She grabbed the gray joggers off the bed and carefully lifted one of her legs. She refused to answer that question. She had a heart attack; she wasn’t dead. Bree had already taken over everyaspect of Sawyer’s life, and now she wanted to help her dress?Over my dead body.

“Good, you chose something comfortable. Remember, the doctor said we need to start slow, going for short walks—”

“I, not we,” Sawyer corrected, slightly out of breath now as she stood to haul her joggers up over her hips. She picked up the sweater also on her mattress, sliding her arms and head in before turning to Bree. “I love you, sweetie, but please stop trying to micromanage me. You have better things to do with your life.”

“That’s crazy talk,” Bree replied, wrapping an arm around Sawyer’s waist as they left the room. She was shorter than Sawyer, just barely reaching her shoulders, but as Bree insisted on holding on to her as they made their way down the stairs, Sawyer was the one who felt small and helpless.

“Bree, this is …” Sawyer’s voice trailed off as they reached the dining room. She never used the dining room anymore. It was too formal and reminded her of years of toxic family dinners. Two place settings were set up, both with bowls of hot porridge topped with fresh berries and a carafe with, she assumed, coffee.

“I know you weren’t hungry for breakfast yesterday, but I’d like you to try and eat a little this morning,” Bree explained, giving Sawyer a gentle squeeze before letting go. She walked over to the plate setting at the head of the table and pulled back the chair, gesturing for her mother to sit.

“I can seat myself,” Sawyer bit out, embarrassed she was being treated like an invalid. Once she’d taken her old place at the table, she added, “I eat at the island.”

Bree froze as she was about to sit down. Her eyebrows shot up. “Is that new? Sorry, I don’t mind moving us to the kitchen.”

“It’s fine. Just so you’re aware for next time, since you seem hell-bent on catering to me.” Sawyer was aware of how irritated and unappreciative she sounded, but she honestly couldn’t helpit. She’d been doing everything for herself for far too long to suddenly stop. She picked up her spoon, eyeing the too-healthy breakfast with a grimace. She’d raised Bree on crepes, pancakes, or bacon and eggs unless they were in a rush, but even then, she’d made certain to have homemade cinnamon rolls or pastries up for grabs along with their usual staple of yogurt and fruit. Olivier had demanded it.

“I’m not trying to take over,Maman, I promise,” Bree said, looking down at her food. She bit her lip before glancing back up to Sawyer with glistening brown eyes. “I just want to be here for you. I know you’re angry that I’m here, but can you blame me? I almost lost you.”

Sawyer’s throat burned as she watched her daughter trying not to cry. She swallowed down the ache, reaching out with a tentative hand for Bree’s shoulder. She placed it there, feeling awkward and inadequate when it came to offering comfort. “I don’t blame you. I’m sorry I’m not a better patient.” The apology was forced, but it was the best Sawyer could do. She knew Bree was just trying to help, that she loved Sawyer, same as Cindy and Lori. Even Barb and the rest of her staff had stepped up in the last week, doing everything in their power to keep Desmaraisrunning smoothly while she was out. Cindy had taken to her role as executive chef like a moth to a flame, but Sawyer had expected nothing less. Her friend had been born to run a kitchen, and in a way, Sawyer was pleased to be able to offer her the opportunity to try her hand. She patted Bree’s shoulder, trying for a smile. “Now, how about we dig in?”

Bree returned her smile, though she reached up to brush a fleeting tear off her cheek. She barked a laugh. “It may be cold now. Let me know, and I can nuke it.”

“I’m sure it’s perfect, love.” Sawyer helped herself to the small container of milk, pouring a splash over the berries in the bowlbefore setting it back down. “Would you mind grabbing the maple syrup out of the fridge?”

Bree shook her head, tapping a dish she hadn’t noticed with her spoon. “This is stevia,Maman. It has zero sugar and no aftertaste like the old sugar substitutes.”

Sawyer frowned. “I know what stevia is, Bree, but why is it in my house?”

“I placed a grocery order yesterday while you were napping. Picked up a bunch of heart healthy options for you, too. Those pamphlets you were given mentioned limiting sugar as much as possible.”

Sawyer closed her eyes, praying for patience. She took a deep breath, or as deep as her body would agree to these days and exhaled slowly. “Maple syrup has a high nutritional value.”

Bree nodded. “I’m not disagreeing, but you can’t just fall back into the same lifestyle you had pre-heart attack.” She pointed to a dish of pills sitting behind Sawyer’s coffee mug. “I ordered vitamins as well, supplements to help with whatever you’re not getting anymore in your food. Your heart pill is in there, too.”

“Fine. It’s fine.” Sawyer shrugged off the unease clouding her person and scooped out a sprinkle of the sweetener. She would not get upset at Bree, who was only trying to help. She stirred her porridge, sucking her teeth as the hot cereal didn’t even change color from the sweetener. What other consequences to her overworking and not watching her diet were in store for Sawyer? She was a French-Canadian chef for fuck’s sake—sweet and savory was practically her middle name. “How’s Scott?” she asked, eager to get her mind on anything else.

“I don’t know,” Bree admitted with a shrug, spooning a bite of porridge into her mouth. She chewed and swallowed before adding, “We broke up.”

“Broke up? Why? I hope it wasn’t because you dropped everything for me.” Sawyer swallowed her own bite.

“No, nothing like that.” Bree was looking at her as she uncapped the carafe, her brows pinched together slightly, deep in thought. She poured steaming coffee into both their mugs. “It just wasn’t working out. He wanted me to drop everything and be available whenever he was, and honestly, his narcissistic tendencies started feeling too much like Papa’s.”

“Calisse,Bree. Je suis tellement désolée.”

Bree set the carafe down, and Sawyer reached across to clasp her daughter’s hand in hers. She should have known Bree wasn’t happy. Why hadn’t sheknown?

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