Page 113 of A Me and You Thing
He’s done. We are OVER.
No more evenings spent cuddling on the couch. No more kisses. No more laughter. No wedding. No honeymoon. No more anything.
I will never be Mrs. Sawyer Denali.
I saw how hard it was for him to break things off with me, and I thought that meant something. I thought it spoke to his strong feelings for me.
Nope.
He just felt sorry for me. Because he’s a good guy. A good guy who has his limits, but a good guy all the same.
And I just lost him.
He’s been trying to let me down easy since Quinn arrived home. He’s been brutally honest, but kind. He’s been politely telling me how sorry he is while slowly backing out of my life. He’s been cognizant of my feelings, perhaps too much so. But if he hadn’t been so concerned over my emotional state, he wouldn’t be the man I thought him to be in the first place.
I need to get out of here. I can’t stay, I just can’t. I’m going to say something I’ll regret and ruin all of my good intentions.
“I think it’s time for me to leave.” I take a deep breath, hide my shaking hands, and offer what I know will help him the most right now. “Let me be the one to check on Quinn, make sure she’s okay.”
He’s clearly skeptical, and I feel like he thinks he needs to protect Quinn from me. A few hours ago, I suppose he did.
“Please let me do this. I need to make amends, and I owe her an apology.”
He takes his seat, all at once looking much more relieved than I’d like him to be. I tuck my heartache away and save it for another day.
“All right. Thank you,” he says quietly.
“Why don’t I drop Josie off at your mom’s house?”
“I think that’s a good idea.” His tone is clipped, concise, like he’s making plans with a neighbor.
It’s hard to believe we were about to be married or that there was ever anything between us. It’s like he snapped his fingers and, bam, we were over. I hate this.Get me outta here.I can’t take it anymore.
I push to my feet, careful not to awaken Josie, and linger in the doorway. “I’ll take an Uber. I need Josie’s car seat from your car.”
He hands me his keys.
“I’ll leave them at the front desk.”
“Okay.”
“Goodbye, Sawyer.”
In return, I receive a curt nod. After my actions, I guess that’s all I should expect.
Still, it hurts like crazy.
FEELING UTTERLY DEFLATED, I stare out the car window seeing nothing. I’m so numb. My relationship with Sawyer has always been so incredibly good. Now it’s bitter, tarnished by my behavior. Even friendship is out of the question.
I drop off Josie—hugging her more times than usual—and play twenty questions with Claire, giving her vague answers that seem to satisfy her, all while trying to pretend everything’s fine. I make my escape and give the driver my home address. Correction, Sawyer and Quinn’s home address. It hurts to think it, hurts to say it. But it’s time to face reality. I’ve always been good at it. Why change now?
I bury my head in my hands and try not to break down right here in some stranger’s car.
I’m going to check on Quinn, apologize profusely, pick up a few belongings, and hit the road. Not sure where I’m going, but I’ll figure it out. One thing is for sure, it will be far away from here. Far, far away. Someplace where I can lock myself in a room and mourn Sawyer Denali. I want privacy to cry, scream, and throw things if I feel like it. Until I reach my destination, I’m putting on a brave front. Tears are imminent. Buckets of them. But they can wait.
“Ma’am? We’re here.”
Preoccupied, I didn’t even notice the car had come to a stop. Maybe because my world is whirling. Sawyer’s final words are running through my mind, over and over. I can’t shut them out. And I hate them.
