Page 78 of A Play For The Heart
“Is there something different about you?” I ask, making a show of spinning him around looking for something different, purposefully avoiding his face. His giggles fill the air, shining a small ray of light into the darkness I’ve been feeling. “Did you get taller? Oh, no! I know what it is…your eyes changed colors!”
I bend down, getting close to him, pretending to examine his eyes. Through the sound of laughter, Micah responds. “I lost a tooth!” His tongue wiggles through the hole in his mouth.
“Ahh… how did I miss that?” I say with a smile, feeling better from the interaction.
“Tooth fairy brought me twenty dollars,” he reveals, leaning in like it’s a massive secret.
I nod seriously, then make a motion of zipping my lips shut, signaling I won’t tell a soul. Micah opens his mouth to ask another question, but by the grace of God, a volunteer blows the whistle, and the kids go running to form teams.
Letting out a massive breath, I spend the rest of the evening bouncing between the craft room and the gyms, never staying long enough where Micah is to make sure he can’t ask any Henry-related questions. The effort it requires to avoid him takes it out of me, and by the time I’m locking up for the evening, I’m exhausted down to my core.
It was nice to see the kids and get back into some type of routine, but the ache that sits in my chest only seems to worsen with time. As I fall into the driver’s seat, my cell phone rings.
Turning my purse over, I dump the content out, frantically searching for my phone, hoping it's Henry. As I turn the phone over and look at the screen, disappointment floods through me. I debate not answering, but there’s no way he would call to chat, so I answer.
“Hello?”
“Oh. Sawyer. Hi,” Declan says, sounding flustered.
“Is everything alright?” I’m concerned that he’s calling me. We haven’t spoken since the bar, and considering how we left our relationship, I wasn’t expecting his call.
“Yeah. I called because—well, I need to apologize. For everything that happened between us.”
“Apologize?” I ask, certain I’ve heard him incorrectly.
“Yeah,” he trails off. He’s silent for a beat before he continues. “I want you to know, it was never about you. I treated you poorly as a result of how I saw myself. I let the attention get to my head and hurt you in the process.”
“Oh…Okay,” shock leaks into my response. I’m genuinely surprised by the apology. I believe him. I liked Declan before he moved to Seattle. He was kind and goofy and somewhere along the way, that version of him got lost. Forgotten. Set aside for who he thought he should be.
“I know I was a shitty boyfriend, but I would like to try to be a better friend. If you’re willing.” I hear him take a deep breath on the other end of the phone. “I understand if not. I’ll respect that boundary. I’ve been talking to my therapist about what I want in life and one thing that was important to me was apologizing to you. And Henry.”
I suck in a sharp breath at the mention of Henry’s name. Tears well in my eyes, on the precipice of falling, and I bite my lip to hold back a sob.
So much for keeping it together.
“Fuck. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—sorry,” Declan says, worry in his voice.
“It’s okay, it’s just been a lo—wait. How do you know?” I ask, suddenly suspicious.
“I…uh…He told me when I apologized. For what it’s worth, he’s trying. I know because that’s where I was at after what happened at the bar. Figuring out your shit is hard, especially when you have no one in your corner.” He says it as though he relates to the statement. Maybe he does. “Thanks for hearing me out, Sawyer.”
“Sure,” I have no other response.
“I hope it works out with you two.”
Before he hangs up, I yell into the phone. “Wait!”
“Yeah?”
“I’m in your corner, Declan.” I’m not sure why I say it, only that it feels right. True. Even though he was a shithead, it’s clear he’s working on himself. I’m a firm believer that people deserve second chances if they work for them. It’s clear Declan is doing that. So, if he needs someone in his corner, then he has me.
“Thanks, Sawyer.”
Having nothing else to say, I hang up and drop my phone onto the passenger seat, with the rest of the contents of my purse. I’m not sure how much more I can take emotionally.
Hell must have frozen over. Yup, that's it. It’s the only explanation for the scene in my living room. I shake my head just in case it’s an illusion and I’m just dehydrated. No such luck. I step deeper into the apartment, treading carefully like the area is a minefield and I’m one wrong step away from being blown to pieces. Which isn’t unlikely given who is sitting on the couch.
“Uh…Hi?” I say as a greeting, unsure of how I’m supposed to respond to this unicorn of a situation. There’s a ban in place preventing this from happening. Maren decreed it. And I’m not going to break that law. The fact he’s blacklisted in our apartment makes his presence incredibly confusing. “Not that I’m not happy to see you, but how the hell did you get in here?”
