Page 122 of A Me and You Thing
“Have a seat,” she invites. “Would you like something to drink?”
“No, thank you. I’m good.”
We settle into our seats, and Quinn asks, “So, how are you, Bree?”
“Good. New job. Bought a new townhome. And here’s the bombshell. I’m seeing a new man.”
“You are?”
“Yep. He’s divorced and has a couple of teenagers. He’s good looking, he’s kind, and I think he might be the perfect man for me. I’ve already shared my horrible secret and he says he doesn’t mind adopting if that’s what I want. But it all seems too good to be true, you know?” Because I’m on the rebound and I can’t stop thinking about Sawyer. I’m scared he’s ruined me for future relationships—even with Perfect Man. I’ll keep that part to myself, though.
“Sounds like a keeper.”
I shrug. “We’ll see. I’ve only been seeing him for a few weeks and things are moving way too fast. His name is Clarence, and I’m just not sure I can go through life with a man named Clarence.”
Quinn tries to hide a brief chuckle. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t apologize. I laughed too. He goes by Ren, so it’s not so bad.”
Silence settles between us, but it’s not uncomfortable. I turn the tables on her. “How are you? You look good.” I study her a little more closely. “You’re kind of glowing.”
I’m jealous. But I knew the green-eyed monster would be part of this visit. I expected it.
“Thank you,” Quinn says as she sips from a can of ginger ale.
It’s time to say what I came here to say. Right now, before I chicken out. “There’s something I need to say to you, so just let me say it, okay?” That came out more forcefully than I’d intended.
She stills, looking a little stunned. “Okay.”
“Here’s the thing. When I first arrived at this house, those little girls were constantly watching doors. They were obsessed. If we were in the living room, they watched the front door. If we were in their bedroom, they watched the bedroom door. If we were in the kitchen, they watched the kitchen door. I knew they were waiting for you, their mother, to walk through a doorway and return to them, to hold them, to love them. They didn’t give up for months. They watched, they waited, and when someone else walked through a door, they cried. Every time. Heartbreaking cries, because I couldn’t give them what they wanted. A bottle, a diaper change, nothing assuaged their tears. They wanted what we all wanted, but they expressed themselves in their own way. Make no mistake, they yearned for you, Quinn.”
Quinn’s shoulder’s tremble and her cheeks pinken as she attempts to hold in emotion. “No one has ever told me that.”
“I never pointed it out. Sawyer was living in his own dark world. We lost him. I mean, he was here physically, but he was a remnant of the man he used to be. He didn’t smile, he didn’t laugh, and his face was so blank, it was hard to detect if he was still in his body. It was tough, really tough.”
Her damp, glossy eyes blink several times, desperately holding back tears.
I go on. “I always envied you for your perfect life, so I jumped at the chance to fill your shoes. And I loved it. I really did. But you know what? I always knew I was livingyourlife and I didn’t really belong. I fought it and told myself it was what I’d always wanted.” I wipe away an errant tear, mad at myself for letting it slip. “After you arrived home, I looked around and realized nothing was mine and everything was yours. What I’m trying to say is that you’re back where you belong, and I’m back where I belong. Everything worked out for the best. I know that now.”
Her bottom lip quivers and an involuntary whimper escapes her lips. “Thank you,” is all she says.
“I’d like to apologize and say that I...”
“No, don’t. Let’s leave it at that.”
The wind is whipped right out of my sails. Okay. She’s right though, it’s enough already. No sense in rehashing it all.
We spend a few minutes composing ourselves. Then I say, “So, I brought something for you too.”
“You did?”
“Yeah. I mean, not from a store. Something else.” I can see the trepidation in her eyes. I don’t blame her.
“Okay.”
“It wasn’t long before you returned home that Sawyer finally let me clean out your closet. If I hadn’t pushed, your belongings still would’ve been there, just the way you left them. He couldn’t part with them.”
She nods, encouraging me to go on. I lean down and pull out the final item from my bag. When she sees the box, she gasps, and I can tell she knows exactly what it is.
