Page 105 of The Affair
“I thought you were mad at me,” I confessed. “I thought you needed to get away from me.”
“No, sweetheart. I could never be mad at you.”
She pulled me into her arms. These were the arms that had given me comfort throughout my entire life.
Today was no exception.
Pulling back, she gave me a warm smile. “Now, how about I fix our coffee, and we can finally talk about why you’re really here?”
I nodded, not wanting my visit with her to ever end. As I watched her grab mugs from the cabinet, I couldn’t help but wonder,why am I here?
What was I running from?
Life with Sawyer was amazing. The store was getting on the right track, and I’d never felt happier.
So, what was my hang-up? Why had I driven all the way here?
“How did you know Daddy was the one?” I finally asked as she came back to the kitchen island and took a seat.
My niece was happily watching a kids program in the attached living room while the baby slept in his nursery.
Her smile returned. “Does this have something to do with Sawyer?”
My eyes widened. “How did you—” And then it hit me. “Aunt Sally?”
She nodded, taking a sip from her mug. “I might not have called, but that doesn’t mean I didn’t check up on you.”
“That’s sneaky.”
“She said you sounded happy when she spoke with you.”
“I am,” I said before correcting myself, “At least, I think I am.”
“What makes you so unsure?”
“I don’t know,” I answered. “He’s perfect. We’re perfect together.”
“If that were true, you wouldn’t have driven across state lines to visit your mommy. Now, how about you start from the beginning?”
I thought about her words—the beginning.
Where did I start? Two months ago when he’d stumbled into my store?
Or the two decades I’d spent loving his brother?
I’d thought life was pretty perfect back then too.
Believing in love doesn’t make it real…
“Mom, I have something to tell you,” I said, realizing the root of my dilemma. “It’s about Nana.”
It was time to come clean—about my feelings for Sawyer, about the loss I’d felt when she left.
And it all started with a leather journal.
* * *
My mom hadn’t saidanything for a full five minutes.
