Page 110 of A Me and You Thing
I pressedend call. Then I made things worse. “It’s just a telemarketer,” I lied. I flicked his phone to silent and handed it back to him, feeling mortified by my subterfuge, yet unable to stop myself.
I don’t know what came over me. But my perfect life is being snatched from my grasping fingertips. It’s slipping away, I can’t hold on any longer. I’ve never been good with someone taking something that’s mine.
Now, it’s been over an hour and we’re still sitting in the urgent care waiting for our turn with what seems like half the population of Newport. I’m holding a sleeping Josie in my arms, and Sawyer is holding a sleeping Jordyn.
All I can think about is the way I just treated my delicate best friend who’s struggling to fit into her old life. I wish I could rewind this day and start again.
Sawyer hasn’t said a word or even glanced my way since we arrived. He’s been subdued, staring into space, lost in thought, his usual good vibes non-existent. His shoulders are stiff, his posture tense. I’m not positive, but I think he might be... mad. I hope he’s not angry with me. I know I’ve been a little demanding today, but I don’t particularly enjoy the role of jilted lover.
That’s why temporary insanity entered the picture. I’m a woman scorned and all that nonsense. Blah, blah, blah. There’s no excuse for my behavior. I’m well aware of that fact.
During our walk, I knew Sawyer’s intentions were to end things once and for all. I knew he was done trying to console me, that I’d gone too far in my attempts to play upon his guilty conscience. I tested his patience, and now it’s backfiring on me.
I went off on him as we strolled down Beachcomber Lane, the most perfect spot in the entire world. Rainbows should’ve been spewing from my mouth. Instead, I told Sawyer I couldn’t believe he was canceling our wedding and how unfair it was. I even blurted out that his behavior was atrocious. Yeah, I actually used that word. I threw so many harsh words in his face—as though I could guilt him into marrying me—I’m surprised he didn’t lose his temper and tell me to never grace his doorstep again. Not my finer moment.
He remained quiet. Stoic. Firm. Even though I kept him from where I knew he wanted to be all day.
With Quinn.I know he’s dying to cut ties with me and be with her. It’s so obvious. He can’t hide it.
Ouch. It’s enough to drive a girl stark raving mad.
As an excuse for my behavior, I told myself I just wanted to talk things out, but it’s such a lie. Sometimes the biggest whoppers are the ones I let myself believe.
I admit to deliberately commanding Sawyer’s attention today, hoping I could sway him. I knew what I was doing and I didn’t resist the temptation.
I’m a fool. When it comes to Quinn, he can’t be swayed.
It was a desperate attempt on my behalf. I’m chalking up my behavior to extreme duress. I went a little crazy at the thought of losing Sawyer. And Josie and Jordyn.
Now, however, I’m overcome with guilt. I can’t find one single excuse for my irrational behavior. I’ve been a poor imitation of a shrew that needed to be tamed ever since Sawyer attempted to break our engagement last night. It seems like forever ago, yet it hasn’t even been twenty-four hours. Still, they’ve been monumental hours.
The thing is, when it comes down to it, I’m the only one fighting—as though I’m on life’s battlefield, swinging my sword like crazy. When I finally take the time to catch my breath and look around, I realize I’m the only person on the field and there’s nothing left to fight for—and no one left to fight with.
I’ve finally come to my senses, but now I’m faced with a Sawyer I don’t know. His silence is making me nervous.
I’ve never seen him mad. He’s always even-tempered and calm. It’s one more thing I love about him.
When Quinn was in the hospital, the writing on the wall was done in fluorescents. I knew what would happen next. How could I not know? Sawyer and Quinn have major history between them. He thinks of Quinn as his long, lost love. He’s immortalized her into a perfect being. Nothing can knock her off her pedestal. The love they feel for one another is tangible, and being in the same room with them is torture.
I didn’t stand a chance. Life feels so unfair right now.
“Jordyn Denali,” a nurse calls out.
We make our way to a brand-new exam room that already feels dingy and take our seats across from each other to wait even longer. The girls shift in our arms, but continue to sleep, thank goodness. After immunizations, Tylenol, backyard play, crying their eyes out, and missing their naps, they’re exhausted. Jordyn’s face is tear-stained, her slightly swollen arm resting on her chest limply.
I look down at Josie and brush a few stray hairs out of her eyes. Do I really have to say goodbye to these girls? This is so much harder than I ever imagined.
I study Sawyer. He’s staring at the ground, a brooding expression on his handsome face. He’s so tense, he’s about to snap. I’m not sure if he’s angry or just upset about Jordyn. Maybe a little of both.
“Sawyer, are you okay?”
His head remains in a downward position, but his eyes look up at me with a deep, penetrating stare.
No doubt about it. He’s simmering. Steam’s about to come out of his ears.
“No, not really.”
“Worried about Jordyn?”
