Page 19 of Saber's Surrender

“They were. I handpicked them for him. It was a closed adoption, but at least I got the chance to have some say-so as to where he went,” she tells me.

Hearing that information settles something deep inside. At least she had some knowledge about who our son was going to be placed with, instead of him blindly going to just any old family. I don’t know why it makes a lick of difference or why it makes me feel better either, but it’s something to think about when I’m alone.

“That eases some of the tension I’ve had for all of these years, Roxy.”

“Okay, we need to talk about that,” she says, pointing her finger in the direction of my lips.

“Talk about what?” I inquire, unsure of what has her ire suddenly coming about.

“Can you figure out if I’m Foxy or Roxy?” she harrumphs. “The way you switch back and forth has my head spinning. And it’s rude to use Foxy when you’re not upset with me and spitting out Roxy when you are.”

“I didn’t realize I was doing that,” I divulge. “I’ll try to pay closer attention.”

“I know at the club you’re Saber, but when we’re alone, do you prefer me to call you Weston or stick to using your road name? While we’re on the topic, I’d like for us to clarify that.”

“At home and in front of our kids, I’d like you to call me Weston. It has a friendlier annotation to it and it makes us feel more like a family and that’s what they need.”

“Then that’s what I’ll do,” she advises.

We finally get called to get the printed license and as we move out from the corridor where we were talking and toward the counter, I take her hand in mine, lacing our fingers together much like we used to walk when we were younger. It’s instinctual, a long-standing habit, that has me doing this, but it’s something I don’t want to examine too closely right now. Because it feels right, even though I’m still filled with anger. The warring and contradictory feelings within me are giving me a headache.

I thank the lady behind the counter when she hands me over the printed sheet of paper and guide Roxy out of the building. I still have a lot of work ahead of me when it comes to how I feel in regard to her, but I’m hoping this is a step in the right direction.

CHAPTER

TWELVE

Roxy

I’m kickingmyself for keeping a wall built between me and the other women of the Imperial Knights. I’ve consumed an entire bottle of wine which explains why I’m giving them a history lesson in all things having to do with me and Weston.

“I can see both points of view,” Belle, Jingles’ old lady tells me. “You were both so young and displaced that you didn’t want that for your child.”

“Exactly,” I express, snapping my fingers. “That’s the word I’ve felt but never used… displaced.”

“I can’t imagine having to make that choice,” Harper whispers, pulling her son closer to her chest. She can’t drink with us considering she’s breastfeeding, but she’s at our side and listening to all of my woes without any judgment.

“The Saber you’re telling us about is such a contradiction to the man I know,” Laney professes. “It’s like there’s two sides of the coin when it comes to how he treats you in comparison to how he treats the rest of us.”

“Want me to hide all of his accounts so he doesn’t have access to his money?” Selah asks, and I chuckle because she’s serious. “I can do it with the snap of a finger. I can even transfer him to a hospital in Timbuktu."

“Please don’t,” I snicker. “Because soon, I’d have to go with him and from what I understand, the heat there is year round and I don’t like to be sweaty.”

Virginia’s bad enough, but at least there are seasonal changes. Still, like most people, I complain when it’s hot out and every step yields sweat, then when it’s cold and snow is blowing.

“That’s a shame. Sometimes, glistening skin can be fun,” Ryleigh says with a sigh. “I bet Saber could make you sweat and you wouldn’t complain.”

“If my memory is right, I never once complained back then and seeing as he’s older and has more experience under his belt, I bet he could rock my world,” I muse.

We might’ve been each other’s first, but we soon figured out what felt good and practiced frequently. Which is what ultimately led to me getting pregnant with Canyon. Sighing, I zone back into the conversation.

“You know, now that I’m thinking about it, I’ve never seen him with a woman here at the club. I wonder if he has a secret lair somewhere he takes them to. He doesn’t even imbibe in the club girls,” Selah states. “Maybe I’ll keep his money safely stored in his account for now.”

“That’s much appreciated considering we’ll need to prove we have money tucked away for the kids’ sake,” I convey, snickering. I briefly wonder if Mrs. Tremain will have information on any accounts for the kids so we can set them to the side for their future educational pursuits.

I’m not the type of person who insists on college since we need people to learn the various trades that help the world keep going. Canyon may want to learn how to fix cars and bikes, or he may delve into the lucrative HVAC world, who knows? Egypt might want to learn how to do hair or become a makeup artist for actors and actresses. Or, she might want to become a doctor. I want the world to be their oyster and don’t want to lay my hopes and dreams on their shoulders.

“Like I said, it’s safe for now. However, you give me the word and I’ll transfer it all into your account,” she surmises.

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