Page 39 of Come Home to Me

Sarah

My thoughts have been surging through my head since I picked up my phone and Colton told me about Dad. I can’t make sense of most of what I’m thinking, since one thought contradicts the next, which contradicts the next, which contradicts the next.

For example, I want to go back to Ohio to see my dad but I’m scared of his reaction.

Will seeing me push him too far in his weakened state and cause him to get worse?

And, while I’m afraid it might be too much stress for him, I’m also worried how his reaction will affect me.

If he tells me he’s not ready to see me, even now, when he might very well be on his deathbed, how will I handle that? What will that do to my self-worth?

On top of all of that, I don’t want to leave Frank, but I don’t know if Frank even wants me to stay in Denver. He’s been adamant that I go back to Brookside.

It’s like I don’t know anything anymore. Up is down and down is up and nothing I thought was true actually is.

“Bree’s crazy,” I say to Frank, after several quiet minutes in the car. “Anyone can see that. I can’t tell if she’s upset that you didn’t fall for her, or if she truly believes you manipulated her, but either way, she’s out to get you.”

Frank glances at me, one eyebrow lifted. “You mean that?”

I nod. “Yep. She’s angry and trying to get between us, but it’s not going to happen. I like you too much to let someone like her make me think less of someone like you.”

I can’t imagine anything that would make me think less of Frank. He’s pretty much the most perfect human being I’ve ever met. And no matter how many people I meet in the future, I’m sure that statement will hold true for the rest of my life.

His shoulders drop away from his ears and he lets out a long breath. “I can’t tell you what a relief that is. I’ve been afraid you bought what she’s selling and I’d have to drive back to work and kill her for getting between us.” He drops me a wink and offers a playful smile, but the look in his eyes is much darker, seething with contempt and the possibility of destruction.

“Don’t worry. There’s no need for homicide in your future.” I smile through the wash of confusion raging through my head.

Frank places a hand on my thigh. He wants to say something, I can see it all over his face, but he chooses silence and I don’t push him. Instead, fear spins me in circles. Despite all my bravado about not believing Bree, a worried voice in my head keeps reminding me how quickly Frank told me I should go home and see my dad. He didn’t even consider asking me not to go.

And the more I try not to listen to that voice, the louder it gets. The more I remind myself that Frank is a good man, the more that voice reminds me I’m not a good woman.

While I’m sure Frank’s insistence that I go home and see my family is an example of him being supportive in the best way he knows how, that little voice wants me to think he’s trying to get rid of me. Even a perfect human being could get tired of someone like me.

Yeah, well, if he wanted me gone, why would I be in his car going to his apartment?I ask the voice.

Duh. Because you put out and he wants one more quickie before he tosses you to the curb, the voice replies.

I take a long breath and let it out slowly as I watch pedestrians on the other side of the window.

Old Sarah would have crumbled under the confusion by now. She would have told Frank to stop the car, gotten out, and run back to Brookside, numbed from the inside out by too many pills to keep count.

New Sarah sits as quietly as she can, as long as she can before turning to Frank just as he pulls into the parking garage under his complex. “Can I say something?” I ask.

“Of course.” Frank glances at me as he navigates the tight turns of the underground space.

I explain the inner argument I’ve been having and then sit like a defendant on trial, terrified of his verdict.

Frank pulls into his parking spot, turns off the car, and spins in his seat. “You’re afraid I’m kicking you out of Denver?”

“Not really,” I say and then laugh at myself. I’m the one who started the conversation. The least I could do is be brave enough to be honest. “But yeah. Kind of.”

I hang my head, ashamed of how weak I really am. I spend my life trying to pretend I’m strong. That I’m confident enough not to worry about what people think of me when really, that’s all I do.

“Sarah…” Frank chuckles and shakes his head. “What if I told you I spent most of today wondering if it was too soon to ask you to move to Denver?”

I lift my gaze. “Really?”

Am I ready to make a commitment like that? The joy pounding through my heart suggests I am.

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