by D. Kelly
Releasing a sigh, I lean back on the sofa. “For the time to be right, for her to be ready.”
“Is there such a thing? I mean, it seems to me the longer we put things off, the greater the chance our moment is going to pass us by.”
“What do I do now?”
He turns his head to the window. “Wait for it to stop snowing and make some kind of grand gesture?”
My head whips around to look outside. “Fuck, it’s snowing? Why didn’t I check the weather?”
“Maybe because it’s August?” Tony offers as he enters the room.
“Good point. Did we wake you?”
“Nah, the thunder did that. It’s strange being here without Noah, but it’s also nice. I’ve got a lot of good memories of this place.”
He sits across from us, and I feel like shit. “Sorry, I haven’t been the best at keeping up with people lately. You should come by the house whenever you want to. I’m glad you made it this time.”
Tony shrugs. “It’s cool. I know everyone has been busy. Hell, I’ve been busy, but I’d like to take you up on it. I told these guys earlier when you were out … my wife is having a baby.”
I jump up and pull him from the chair to hug him. “Congratulations, man! I’m so happy for you. Noah would have been so fucking excited.”
“Thanks, we’re pretty excited as well. My kid and Nate will be in high school at the same time, so that’s cool. I think Noah would have liked that.”
“Are you kidding me?” After releasing him, we sit back down. “The two of you were thick as thieves in school. Noah would have loved it and insisted they grow up together, and they will. God, this is so different.”
They both look up at me with perplexed expressions.
“Sorry, I mean different than last year. That was such a clusterfuck. I guess I was overly ambitious setting up a trip so soon after losing Noah. Mel and I were trying to figure out what we meant to each other. It was supposed to be a secret, but people found out. The trip was a nightmare. This time feels different. I’m … I guess happy in a way, to be here, to have Nate here, it just feels right.”
“Even with everything else up in the air?” Eli asks.
“Even with. I’ve been depressed for weeks, but after your hint, it all clicked. Now I’ve got to figure out how to get back in her good graces. Maybe I’ll text or email her, get a dialogue started.”
Tony kicks his feet up. “Shouldn’t be too hard. Mel loves you, and she’s got a good head on her shoulders. She’ll listen to you. She’s not going to write you off in a day, not when she made you guardian of her kid in case anything ever happens to her.”
“She did that?”
With wide eyes, he nods. “Shit, I thought you knew. Mel said she was going to tell you. I could get in a lot of trouble for saying anything.”
As his news sinks in, my heart expands. “Don’t worry, I won’t say anything. Mel mentioned that was what Noah wanted. She tried talking to me when she set up the trust, but I was afraid to hear the answer and have avoided the topic.”
Eli clicks his tongue. “Damn, Sawyer, if you’d listened maybe you wouldn’t have felt the need to break Mel’s heart. If you needed a sign to prove her love, I think you just got one.” Eli kicks his feet up and adjusts his body to face Tony and me.
“Are you mad, Eli?”
He scoffs. “Why would I be? I’m her oldest friend, but we lost a lot of years. You’re her family, and more importantly, you’re Nate’s family. God forbid anything ever happen to my girl, Nate should be with you.”
“Thanks, Eli, that means a lot to me.” Unable to hold back a yawn, I realize how tired I am. They’re in the process of starting a fire when I excuse myself. I’m sure Mel is already asleep, but I can’t go to bed without at least texting her a song. I need her to know where my head is even if we had words before I left. We need to talk, but I want to have a plan first. After sending her a link for “True” by Ryan Cabrera, I close my eyes and think about how to propose to my Princess.
Snowed In
By the time morning rolled around we were officially snowed in. To make matters worse the roads aren’t expected to open for two more days. Nate isn’t even disappointed about not being able to fish since we can now build snowmen and make snowballs and snow angels. Last night I fell into a fitful sleep but woke up determined to figure out the perfect proposal for Mel. I’m proposing when I get home, but in the meantime, I’ve decided to let her stew on my ultimatum a little bit longer. I sent her an email letting her know how much I love her, but I want the element of surprise on my side when I get home. I’ve also decided even if she tells me no right off the bat; I’m not giving up. No guts, no glory, or so they say.
The one thing I wasn’t expecting was for her to reply to my message and include pages of a new book she’s writing. It felt like my heart skipped a thousand beats when I noticed the attachment. I carried my computer into the kitchen with me because that’s where everyone is gathered.
“You’re abnormally pale, Sawyer. What’s going on?” Wyatt asks, but all eyes quickly lock on me.
“It’s Mel. She’s writing, and she sent me pages. It’s our story … I think. She doesn’t outright say it, but it has to be, right?”
“Holy shit, that’s awesome!” Eli exclaims, and there’s a chorus of similar encouragement.
Darren looks up at me with an expectant glance. “What are you waiting for, Sawyer? Go read it. I’ll keep an eye on Nate.”
Warren hands me a cup of coffee, and Sam places a bagel wrapped in a paper towel on top of my computer. “Let me know if it’s good. Mel won’t say anything, but SOS will always want anything she writes. We’ll encourage her together if you think it’s something she should pursue.”
“You got it,” I say absentmindedly as I turn around and head to my room.
Once I’m comfortable on my bed, I reach for my coffee and take a few sips as the document opens. I’ve got no idea what to expect from her right now, but the fact she’s writing at all fills me with pride. This has to be one of the last steps of her coming back to us completely. Writing has always been her passion, and she’s avoided it for two years. Deep down, I’ve always thought she’d never move past the accident until she started writing again. I’m glad I didn’t email her last night and grovel. She might have quit before she started.
From the opening line, I’m sucked in, and it reminds me of the night we met and how I got lost in her world as I read The O Factor. Fuck, I’m so damn proud of her. All I want to do is pick up the phone and tell her, but I can’t. Something inside me is telling me that isn’t the right move.
When I’m about an hour into the story, there’s a knock at my door, and Darren pokes his head inside.
“Well?” He quickly ducks in and closes the door behind him.
“It’s our story. I don’t think it’s the one she was supposed to write. This is something different. It begins with her and Belle getting ready to come to our show that night. So far, it seems like a recap of everything that’s happened from that night forward.”
“Hot damn, she’s really doing it. Maybe you were right and this was the best thing for her.”
“Or maybe she’s going to realize it was all a mistake of epic proportions and she’s going to reclaim her pre-Bastards and Dangerous life.”
Darren leans against the door. “You don’t really think she’s going to do that. How much do you love her, Sawyer?”
“More than I ever thought possible.”
“Right, and how well do you think you know her?” His question gives me pause. “Don’t think, just answer.”
“Better than she knows herself right now.”
He steps forward and grabs my coffee mug. “If that’s the case and someone asked Mel right now if she loved you, what would she say?”
“She’d say yes.”
Darren grins. “I’m going to get you some more coffee. You keep reading your love letter.”
“My what?”
He shakes his head. “Damn, you’re dense, but since you’re new to this love shit, let me help you out. You write songs to express your emotions. Mel writes stories. You gave Mel an ultimatum, and in return, she’s writing you a love letter. Believe me or not, you’ll see I’m right soon enough.”
I read for hours until there are no more words on the page. She must have started writing the second we left the house, and she’s still going if her email is any indication. These pages end at the shooting, and I can’t imagine how she must be feeling right now. It’s time to call in the cavalry.
Do you think you can go by and check on Mel?
Mom: Is that such a good idea after the way you left her?
You heard about that already?
Mom: I have my sources.
Mel’s writing mom, please go be with her. I don’t want her to be alone through all the emotions she must be feeling.
Mom: Well, I do always sleep better at the beach. Don’t think this means I’m going to defend you though.
What? What does that even mean? I’m your son, why wouldn’t you defend me?
Mom: It means when you love someone you stick around and talk things out. You don’t run away and give do or die decisions that can push someone over the edge.
Mom: It also means Amelia needs to find her way without any judgment or feeling like I’m picking sides. I’ll be there for her, but I won’t be singing your graces.
It’s complicated Mom.
Mom: It’s always complicated, Sawyer. If she chooses you what are you going to do next? I hope you’ve thought about it.
I pull out the rings and take a picture of them for her.
I’m going to ask her to marry me. Please don’t say anything to anyone. I’m trusting you with this and only you.
Mom: They’re gorgeous Sawyer, and I hope with my whole heart she says yes. You have my word I won’t tell anyone.
Me too. Please let me know how she is. I’m keeping my distance, but I’m worried.
Mom: If something is wrong I’ll let you know, otherwise assume she’s fine. I love you, Sawyer.
Love you too mom, and thanks.
The next few hours, we all hang out, shoot the shit, have a couple of drinks, and play with the kids. Normally, being snowed in wouldn’t bother me in the slightest, but I’m dying to get home to Mel.
After the kids are asleep, I take a minute to email her. I’ve got some ideas I want to talk to the guys about, but I have to take care of this first.
Hey,
I read your pages and they’re incredible. All your thoughts and your feelings … How come you’ve never been able to convey them to me that way? I guess this is you doing that now. I’m proud of you for making this effort. For putting your family’s needs first. For putting your own needs first. I know you didn’t see it before, but maybe you do now. I don’t just need your answer, Mel. I need you with me in every other way. It’s time to let the past go as best we can and live for tomorrow. Please send me the next part when you’re done. I love you, and I’m so fucking proud of you.
After a quick shower, we all sit down to a late dinner. Wyatt and I fed the kids chicken nuggets and mac ‘n’ cheese earlier, and they were happy as can be. Sam and Warren made chili and cornbread, and it smells amazing. It’s been cooking for hours, and I think we’ve all be counting down the minutes until it was done.
“How is the book?” Sam asks.
“I’m not positive it’s a book yet … I’m sure she’ll tell you guys, but keep it here until she does, please.”
When they all nod in agreement, I continue.
“It’s her story … I think. It starts with the night we all met, and what she sent me ended with the shooting. She’s still writing, and I guess there are more pages to come. Maybe she’s purging her system or recapping things to help put things in perspective, I’m not quite sure.”
“Maybe it’s her way of journaling … like you,” Mac offers. “That woman has a lot of things to process. She’s lost her parents, grandmother, Noah, and Belle—that’s a lot of loss for anyone. Plus, she never got the chance to be a normal kid or have a home to call her own. If you’ve never had a home it’s probably hard to make one with someone else. I’d probably write it all down to make sense of it too, but that’s just me.”
Mac has an interesting take on it. The home part especially has me thinking, but Darren isn’t buying it. “It’s her love letter to Sawyer. I’m telling you guys, the romance author who doesn’t believe in romance is making the biggest romantic gesture of them all.”
“I’m with Darren,” Wyatt replies. “Sounds like love to me.”
“I’ll withhold my opinion until I can read the story.”
Warren lovingly puts his arm around his husband. “I agree with Sam. I’m going to need to read it to decide. I do think whatever it is, it’s a good sign.”
Tony passes me a beer. “Whatever it is, my wife will buy it. Whenever I mention Amelia, she asks when her next book is coming out. She’s got a built-in fan base if she decides she wants to release another book.”
“What about the two of you?” I point to Jordan and Eli. “No opinions?”
Jordan shrugs. “I’m just hoping it’s good because if you start moping again, we’re stuck with you with no escape.”
Eli laughs. “My thoughts exactly. Regardless of what Mel writes on those pages, we all know she loves the fuck out of you. Whatever shit you’re going through right now is just a blip in your relationship. The one thing I know for sure is that Amelia Triton-Greyson was meant to be a Weston. Take that how you choose.”
He’s building off our conversation from last night, and I take the opening. “After dinner, we all need to put our heads together. When we get back, I’m going to ask Mel to marry me.”
“About fucking time!” Wyatt exclaims, and the rest of them concur.
Warren leans forward, eyes alight with excitement. “What do you need our help with?”
“See, you’re such a closet romantic,” Sam teases, and Warren blushes.
“It’s not that, but we all know Sawyer isn’t the most … well-versed in love.”
“Good save,” Darren quips, and I toss a napkin at him.
“Besides,” Warren adds, “I’ve known Amelia since she was a little girl, and after reconnecting, I feel like I owe it to Joey and Iris to make sure she’s okay and to help make this special if I can. This time, she’s going to get those fifty years of marriage she deserves.”
I couldn’t agree with him more.
While Mac and Jordan are cleaning up from dinner, I get an email from Mel.
Hey,
I miss you. I didn’t think I would miss you this much, but I do. The house is lonely without you guys, and tonight is the perfect night for wine, fire, and cuddling. Your mom is here now; thanks for sending her my way. She’s always a comfort when I’m stressed, but you already know that. Writing this book makes me feel like I’m in a dark, padded room trying to find my way to solid ground. It’s hard, so fucking hard, but the only way out is through, right? I’m working my way through for you, for me, and for us. I love you, too. Come home to me safely.
Her words are like a dagger through my heart and a warm hug all at the same time. I fucking hate she feels trapped in the darkness, but she’s trying to fight for us, and I couldn’t be happier about that if I tried. Knowing she loves and misses me is the icing on the cake. Her email has my determination in full gear. I’m going to figure out the best way to ask her to be my wife, and when she says yes, I’m never doing anything this risky or stupid again. I will drop to my knees and beg at her feet before I ever leave the house angry in the future.
After dinner, we’re all gathered in the living room. A fire is burning, Sam and Warren are enjoying a bottle of wine, and Darren has poured whiskey and tequila for everyone else.
“A toast …” Darren lifts his glass, and the rest of us follow. “To Sawyer, for finally pulling his head out of his ass and realizing it’s time
to put up or shut up.”
“Haha,” I reply dryly as I drink with the rest of them.
“I’m not sure I ever thought I’d see the day,” Mac muses. “Do you know how many women I’ve had to throw out of his room?”
“We know,” Wyatt quips.
“Those were some good days. Don’t knock it till you try it.” Darren smiles fondly.
Groaning loudly, Wyatt replies, “Says he who actually put a sign on the bus that said, ‘If this bus is rockin’ don’t come a-knockin.’”
“Damn straight! Like I said, good times.” Darren tosses back a shot and refills his glass.
“You guys are lucky. I miss having bandmates to fuck off with like this, but then again, we were never as close as you guys seem to be.”
I’ve never asked Eli about his band because I had a feeling it was a sore subject, but that doesn’t stop Darren from taking the leap. “What the fuck was all that about anyway? One day you were the biggest pop sensation out there, the next, Eli Watts was a solo artist.”
“I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors.”
Wyatt shakes his head. “Dude, you should know that no self-respecting artist ever listens to rumors.”
“Or journalist, for that matter,” Warren tosses in. “That’s how we ended up with Belle and Slammed. Even though Slammed falls under SOS, Sam had nothing to do with us choosing Belle. That was all research and integrity on her behalf.”
