Ray and Morgan headed for the bunkhouse. Dad looked between me and them as if he wasn’t sure what he should do, that was, until he looked at Sawyer. It was then he made his choice.
I was left alone with the man I loved.
Chapter Nineteen
Sawyer stood eerily still near one of the signs that had a map of the property on it for guests.
I wiped my eyes, which was a mistake with how much grime was left on my hands even though I had washed them. I could picture the streaks on my tear stained face. “Sawyer, please say something.”
He began to stretch his neck from side to side. “What do you want me to say, Emma? I knew you didn’t like my mom, but I can’t believe you hate her so much that you would accuse my brother of stealing and cheating. What have they ever done to you?”
I stepped over the stones that marked off the gravel parking lot with a laundry list of what his family had done to me, but I was holding it back in hopes of salvaging at least my friendship with someone who had meant more to me than words could express. Not even my thoughts could do our friendship justice; you would have to listen to the beat of my heart to understand the breadth of it.
“Sawyer, I don’t think you’re seeing the full picture.”
“I just watched you accuse my brother and humiliate my mother,” he spat through gritted teeth.
“Don’t you know me well enough to know I wouldn’t falsely accuse someone?”
He blinked an inordinate amount of times. “You truly believe he’s guilty? What proof do you have?”
I took a deep breath, not knowing how to finesse my response. “Your dad and Bridget said some things—”
Sawyer’s eyes bulged while his face turned an ugly red. “You want to talk about cheaters and liars, there’s a pair. How could you believe them?”
I stood up tall, though I was wearier than I had ever felt. “You want to know why I believe them?” I shouted. “Because your father reminds me of you, and you are one of the best people I know.”
Sawyer’s eyes flickered for a moment with some pause. His face lost a shade of red.
It gave me courage to proceed. “Your dad and Bridget, unlike your mother, have treated me with nothing but kindness. You don’t even know everything your father has done for you.”
“What are you talking about?”
“You need to ask him. And while you’re at it, why don’t you ask him why they got divorced. The real reason.”
His hands clenched. “Damnit, Emma, why can’t you just be happy that your dad has found love and happiness again with my mom?”
There was a loud ringing in my ears. Did he really just say that? “You know, for an eye doctor, you’re sure blind. If you think that’s what our parents have together then you don’t know what happiness is.”
The blood drained from his face while he stood stunned as if I had slapped him. Once he shook off the metaphorical slap, he rushed toward me and took me firmly by the arms. His eyes bore into mine, making me catch my breath. “I know exactly what happiness is.” He leaned in as if he was going to kiss me and, like this morning, I felt his breath so close I could taste it. Live off it. In an instant, though, it was gone. He stole the air from me. He dropped my arms and pushed himself away from me. “I’m just never meant to have it.” He turned and headed toward the barn, kicking rocks and swearing as he went.
I wanted to shout, well, join the club, buddy! Instead, that tiny strand of hope holding my heart together burst, allowing my heart to shatter. The Loveless curse had struck again. I had to get out of there. This was no longer my home. As quick as I could, I ran to my Jeep and opened the door, but it wasn’t quick enough.
“Emma, did you really think Sawyer would be yours?” Josephine slinked toward me in her ridiculous coral jumpsuit. Where had she been hiding this entire time?
I ignored her and jumped in my Jeep.
She wasn’t done with me. “I hope you’ve finally learned who the Lady of Carrington is now. You’re not even a Carrington. Have you ever wondered why your father kept that name from you?”
I grabbed my gut and faced the vile witch. “He didn’t keep it from me.”
“Didn’t he?”
I shook my head, though I was now unsure. How could I be sure of anything? I had just lost almost everyone I loved.
“Oh, you are delusional, aren’t you? Have a good night. I know I will.” She waved and slithered away toward the barn.
I threw my Jeep in reverse and gunned it, kicking up rocks. I debated on whether I should do a little four-wheeling and run over the snake slinking through the wild grass headed for her son. She wasn’t worth jail time, I decided. I tore out of there like I was running from the law. If only. It would have been better than leaving behind those I loved who obviously didn’t feel the same way. Racking sobs came while I raced home. It was the same pain I felt when I was told my mother had died. An empty ache consumed me.
When I got home, the torture continued. Reminders of Sawyer were everywhere, from the used towels in my bathroom to the stupid note he left on my pillow.
I can’t wait until tonight.
I crumpled the note and threw it across the room. Then I ripped off all my bedding. His clean scent filled my senses. I was washing him away literally and figuratively. The Band-Aid had come off. It hurt worse than I could have ever imagined. But how would I have known? I’d never been in love before. I was going on record as saying it wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.
I shoved all my bedding in the washer and put it on hot with lots of detergent. If there was even a hint of his scent on them, I was burning them. I might anyway for the satisfaction.
Next on my reign of terror was my guest bedroom. Anger was better than pain. But, boy, did the pain ever want to overtake me. I was refusing it. I’d known too much of it this past year. Now the person who had helped ease it the most inflicted the worst kind on me. If he’d just rejected me, that would have been one thing, but he hadn’t believed in me. He didn’t trust me. And he was related to the vilest person I knew.
With my tough-guy attitude, I threw open my guest bedroom door. It was a huge mistake. The first thing that caught my eye was the picture he had placed on the nightstand as if he lived there. It was the same picture of us that I kept on my desk. The one of us in the hot air balloon. I had given him a copy of the photo but didn’t know he had it framed. I went from tough to goo in seconds. I crumpled, landing on the lumpy twin-size bed that smelled too much like him. Exhaustion overcame me. I curled up in what I had left of him and cried myself to sleep.
I woke up sore and with a crick in my neck. Maybe I should replace that bed.
In the dawn’s early light that filtered through the window blinds to the small room, I was able to come to my senses. I wasn’t going to wallow for what I never had. I had enough to mourn with my dad, sisters, and forever my mother. Sickening thoughts of my dad never wanting me to have his name filled me. Was that true? Lately it felt as if it could be. Maybe that’s why he’d been so distant since Mom had died. Was it all an act for my mother? More sobbing ensued.
With my last shudder, I stretched and berated myself for not showering last night. I smelled foul. Before I could shower, I had one more thing left to do. I shoved all of Sawyer’s belongings in his duffle bag, not stopping to think or reminisce. I didn’t even look at the photo of us before I placed it on top and zipped up his bag. I tossed his bag on my porch and texted him.
Me: Your crap is on my porch. You can leave my house key under the flowerpot.
I sounded much braver than I felt.
While I showered, I talked to Jenna on speaker. She wouldn’t be put off anymore. She thought the reason I hadn’t texted her back last night was because I was with Sawyer. I cleared that up real quick by recounting the awful events from the night before. I ended with me tossing his stuff on the porch.
“So, you broke up,” she shouted so I could hear her while showering.
“What?” I shut off the water
. “Didn’t you hear me?”
“I heard everything. Sounds like a bad breakup to me.”
“You have to be dating to break up,” I reminded her while grabbing my towel. It felt so good to be clean.
“Please, you two were dating. It was a shame you never got the full physical benefits of it, but you were unconsciously coupling.”
“What does that even mean?”
“It means you were totally a couple, but you didn’t know you were a couple.”
“Not even close. I obviously repulse him.”
“I don’t believe that.”
“You should have seen the way he looked at me last night.”
“You mean when you thought he might kiss you?”
“The hate in his eyes was unmistakable.” I buried my head in my towel, trying not to cry.
“Honey, that’s what happens when you fight with the person you love.”
“That makes no sense at all.”
“Think about the loss you feel right now. Think about how you felt throwing his things out of your house. Has it stopped you from loving him?”
“I wish,” I whimpered. “But he doesn’t love me.”
“Hate is born from love. I’ve never hated anyone more than Brad.”
“Does Brad know that?”
“I tell him as often as I can, especially when his baby is sitting on my bladder all night while he’s fast asleep snoring.”
I stepped out of the shower with my towel wrapped around me. “I don’t think Sawyer snores,” my voice cracked.
“Aww, Em. Do you want me to start slapping some people? Because I will. I’ll start with his mom, then your dad and sisters, and last but not least, that fetcher for breaking your heart.”
“Don’t waste your time. I’m done with them all.”
“You’re such a liar.”
“Probably, but I have to try, right? They all couldn’t care less about me.”
“They’ve all lost their minds, obviously, but I have a feeling when they find them, they’re going to be sorry, and you better make them all grovel. Like, your dad should buy you and all your friends new cars, especially the ones who are having a baby.”
I wiped the steam off my mirror and laughed. “Don’t count on that. Besides, Josephine,” I could barely say her name, “has some kind of hold on my dad and she’s not going to let go without a fight. And I’m tired.”
“You need to quit fighting, Em. They should be fighting for you.”
My eyes began to water. “I don’t see that happening.”
“You know I’m always in your corner. Come to the club when your game is over, and we’ll break out the karaoke machine. Nothing makes you feel better than singing the Spice Girls’ greatest hits. The vat of slime and clothing are totally optional.”
“I love you.”
“Right back at ya. It’s going to be all right, Em.”
“I know. I still have Doughboy and Duncan Hines. This may call for Betty, though.”
“Go straight to the chick; men are fickle pigs.”
“Good thinking, sister. See you later.”
I was breaking out the box of Brownie Supreme by my girl, Betty Crocker. I could taste the chocolate frosting now. She and Dr. Pepper would see me through. Those two should really think about hooking up. They would have delicious babies. Meanwhile, I was going to start planning my celibate life in Fiji.
When I left my house for the game, his crap was still on my porch. I hoped he would come and get it today while I wasn’t around. Or maybe it would get stolen; I didn’t really care. That was a lie, but I was going to try my best to make it true.
The soccer field helped calm my soul. There was something about a sunny day, freshly cut grass, and soccer balls that brought me comfort. Maybe because I only had good memories of playing. It was something I was skilled at and I always had great coaches and friends, supportive parents. Or at least my mom was. Was Dad truly putting on an act? He was an award-winning actor if that was the case. He sure had me fooled. Sawyer had too.
I shook my head. I had to stop thinking about all of them. Jenna was right, I needed to stop fighting for people who didn’t think I was worth the effort. Anyone who was happier with Josephine than me deserved her. That even went for her younger son whom I was no longer calling by name or thinking about. From now on he would be the S-word. It seemed fitting.
When my girls started to arrive, my spirits only rose with each hug and high five. I was still loved, not by as many as I thought or hoped, but it was enough.
I was enough.
Chapter Twenty
Between Betty, the Spice Girls, and my real best friends, I survived the weekend. Actually, I thrived. My girls won their game, which meant we were headed for the playoffs. So, they might have been a little—or a lot—disappointed that the S-word hadn’t shown up. And that he would be breaking his promise to them that if they won the league championship, he would personally pay for the entire team to go to the amusement park in Edenvale.
But it was the first time I’d ever heard any sense come out of Gwendolyn, who, by the way, wore a bikini top to the game on Saturday, but I digress. When the girls were mourning what was probably for some of them their first crush, Gwendolyn blew on her freshly painted nails she’d done while I was doing warm-ups with the girls and said, “My little darlings, there are two things you can count on in life, shoe sales, and that men will disappoint you.”
Amen. Gwendolyn and I had different shoe tastes, but when my favorite brand of running shoes went on sale, I was a happy girl.
I wasn’t happy, though, that as of Monday evening when I got home from work, a certain duffle bag was still on my front porch and my housekey hadn’t been returned. I hoped he had to return to his bee and ant infested place to get some other clothes. While he was there, I hoped he got stung a few more times. The least he could do for me was to remove any reminders of him from my life. That stupid duffle bag was a symbol of the pain I was doing my best to hide from. But his handsome face kept popping up in my head and heart.
I had to tell Dustin today when he called to talk that I was consciously uncoupling with someone who I didn’t know I was subconsciously coupled with. He didn’t know what that meant, but he hoped I got it straightened out soon because he was hoping I was still considering applying for that position out there because he wanted to take me out, if and when I flew out for an interview. He wasn’t even afraid that I was cursed. He obviously didn’t know better.
I was torn about applying for that position in Alabama. Between tornadoes and humidity, I wasn’t sure Alabama was the place for me. I mentioned to Dustin that I was thinking about moving to Fiji. After he got done laughing, he promised me that Alabama had some of the most beautiful beaches I would ever visit. He offered to be my tour guide. The poor man was a glutton for punishment. He had no idea we would only become friends or worse. Look at Sawy . . . I meant S-word and me now. And my friends were begging me not to go, especially Jenna, who wanted me here to share in the joy of her baby. I wanted that too. And I guess now I didn’t have to worry about awkward family gatherings because I no longer had a family, real, step, or otherwise. I rubbed my heart.
How had it come to this? My poor mother was probably in heaven blaming herself. Who we really needed to blame was Dr. Alvarez, my mom’s optometrist who had retired. Had my mom not needed a new eye doctor, none of this would have ever happened. I wouldn’t have just had the best and worst year of my life. It still would have been the worst, because Mom still would have climbed that ladder, but Josephine wouldn’t have come to the funeral if the best part hadn’t shown up. I’d still have my family, and I would have had one less person to mourn.
Perhaps I was to blame. I should have given more credence to the curse. I should have known better than to have tried.
I scowled at the duffle bag one more time before I entered my garage. If it wasn’t gone in a few days, I was tossing it in the garbage.
It was a good thing I w
as already meeting Bridget for ice cream; I needed some, stat. Though I had to admit I was a tad hesitant to go now. It’s not that I didn’t like her—I really did—but I wondered if I should cut all ties with anyone associated with you know who. And I wasn’t too sure how Warren would feel about me accusing his son of stealing and cheating. Deep in the pit of my stomach I knew it was him. I was sick thinking Ashton might do it to more guests, or worse, my sisters. I figured it didn’t hurt to have more friends, so I agreed to meet her at a cute shop named Ice Cream Social and decided I wouldn’t talk about either son or what had happened last Friday. I mean, it’s not like you know who was talking to them, and I had a feeling Ashton wouldn’t want to say a word about it either.
I knew Bridget and I would be lifelong friends when she ordered a brownie sundae and told them to go heavy on the hot fudge. We were soul sisters. I ordered a Dr. Pepper float, heavy on the DP and ice cream. At first it was going great with pleasantries of how are you? and how was your business trip? Easy answers. Okay, so I lied when I told her I was fantastic. I did my best to keep her talking about her job as a court reporter. You didn’t meet one of those every day, I guess unless you were a lawyer or judge, but as I was neither, I found it fascinating. She’d been the assigned court reporter for some pretty scary cases.
After my tenth question, she finally reached her hand across the table and rested it on mine. “Do you want to tell me why Sawyer called his dad demanding to meet with him?”
I stared down at my half-eaten float and shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess he wants to talk.”
A small laugh escaped her. “We figured that much out. The question is why he’s blaming his dad for taking you away from him.”
My head popped up. “I don’t know what you mean,” my voice cracked.
She patted my hand. “What’s going on, honey?”
“Have Sa . . . I mean, have father and son met yet?”
She narrowed her eyes. “Oh, this is bad. You won’t even say his name.”
My Not So Wicked Stepbrother (My Not So Wicked Series Book 1) Page 18
