by C. A. Harms
Yet I had to remain strong for Sawyer. She’d been through so much in such a short time. A moment that should have been a celebration had quickly changed to one of crippling sadness. I could see her withdrawing from everyone, slipping further and further into the darkness I knew she’d felt from the moment Patrick took his last breath, because that same darkness threatened me too.
She’d sat at the front of the funeral home, holding Abigail and staring ahead at the now-closed casket—the casket that held the man who’d taken a part of her with him when he said goodbye. From the place where I stood, I could see the deep longing in her eyes, a desperation for just one more moment with him.
That was also something I’d wished for. Holding it together was proving to be one of the hardest things I’d ever done.
“Has she talked to you?” Willow asked. I continued to stare ahead as she stepped up to my side and leaned against the same wall I rested upon. I shook my head. “I’m thinking maybe we should stay at her place tonight. I know she won’t want us to, but I don’t think we should give her a choice. She already told Mom she was going home tonight.”
“I’d already planned to stay.” Hell, even if I had to camp out on the front porch, I would be there with her. “She’s gonna fight us.”
“I don’t care,” Willow wasted no time replying. “Something tells me that you won’t let that stop you, either.”
“Nope,” I responded just as quickly.
Silence settled over us as the pallbearers walked toward the casket. “I need to go,” I said, stepping forward to join them. “Stay with her.”
This was it, the final step before laying Patrick to rest. The day had been bad already. I’d seen Sawyer shed so many tears, I’d thought she wouldn’t have any left, only they kept coming. I’d witnessed her sob with heartbreak until she could barely breathe. Each time she cried I swear it chiseled away another piece of my heart.
I stepped up to the mahogany casket and lay my palm against the coolness, doing my best to gain the strength I needed to get through this. I would never understand the reasons for cutting short the life of such an amazing man. He was loved, and he loved bigger than anyone I know. To take him just seemed wrong, especially when his wife and little girl needed him.
My tears threatened to spill, and fighting them seemed foolish. When I lifted my head and my eyes connected with Sawyer’s, we just stared at one another. Her blue eyes almost glowed through her tears. I wanted to go to her and hold her tight. I wanted to tell her I was here for her, and that together we’d make it through this. Only I couldn’t right now. But after Patrick was laid to rest, I’d tell her.
As we exited the church, Honor was standing just outside and I was surprised she’d even shown. Our divorce was final a little less than a week ago and we’d barely talked during the last month. When she offered me a kind smile, I felt like for a second that the girl I’d once loved had peeked through.
When we’d placed Patrick in the back of the hearse, I stepped aside and watched as the director of the funeral home closed the doors. An impulsive feeling shot through me, telling me I needed to open the doors once more and ensure he was secure, as if these men didn’t do this type of thing almost daily. But this was Patrick. This was my best friend, my brother.
When I felt a hand delicately touch my shoulder, I spun to find Honor standing only a few feet behind me. She had that compassionate look in her eyes that I had so desperately needed to see so many times throughout the months of Patrick’s decline.
“I’m so sorry, Gage.” Tears filled her eyes, and part of me wanted to pull her close. Not so much because this version of her was want I’d longed for over the years, but because I needed comfort from anyone right now. Yet I refrained from doing so after thinking of how she’d been so dismissive of Patrick’s illness and my need to be near him during it. She was selfish, and I couldn’t forgive that.
“Thanks,” I said just as I caught sight of movement over her left shoulder.
Willow and Luann led Sawyer from the doors, one on either side of her. Rachel followed closely behind carrying a baby bag.
“Excuse me,” I said as I stepped around Honor, ignoring the questioning look in her eyes.
The women noticed me moving toward them, yet Sawyer kept her head down, clutching her daughter. I stepped in front of her and pulled her into a tight embrace. At first she hesitated, as if fighting against the comfort I wanted to give her, but her fight faded fast. She moved in closer, laying her head upon my chest and created a cocoon between us where Abigail remained sleeping soundly.
She began to shake and together we wept freely, not caring about anything around us besides our need to mourn a man we both would miss every single day of our lives.
“I got you, Sawyer,” I whispered only inches from her ear. “I don’t care what it is, what time of day or night, I got you.”
She didn’t argue. I think she knew she couldn’t say anything to change my mind. It was more than just a promise I’d made. She’d become a part of me, too, more than she was prior to all of this. So protecting her was no longer about my commitment to Patrick, but about my commitment to her and Abigail.
They were my family, and nothing would ever change that.
I stepped into the kitchen holding Abigail. She’d grown fussy, and not wanting to wake Sawyer, I snuck into her room and snatched her up before escaping quietly downstairs. Finding Willow at the stove already warming up a bottle for her, I focused on keeping her as quiet as I could.
When she found comfort in sucking on my knuckle as her little fingers curled around my finger, I smiled for what felt like the first time in days.
“I almost have it ready,” Willow said, yet I couldn’t look away from Abigail. She was so tiny, only weighing in at five pounds, ten ounces. Little grunts and groans, almost like those of a baby pig came from her, and my smile grew even wider.
“Here we go, Princess.” I looked up as Willow stepped over to me and reached out for Abigail.
“I’ll feed her.” I didn’t wait for her to agree before I took the bottle, then turned and walked to the living room.
The moment the nipple touched her lips, her head began shifting from side to side, and those little snorts grew louder. A deep chuckle fell from my lips as her little mouth wrapped around the bottle and she began sucking quickly.
“Hungry, huh?”
I looked away for only a second as Willow sat next to me on the arm of the chair and looked down at her niece. “It’s amazing how much she looks like Patrick.”
As I looked back at the sweet little girl in my arms, my chest tightened at the mention of Pat. Once again, I felt guilty for being granted this moment when he’d been robbed of it. He should be the one sitting here listening to each little breath she took and watching the way her cheeks moved with each suck on her bottle.
“You should’ve woken me up.”
Willow and I turned toward the doorway to find Sawyer standing there looking frail and exhausted.
“Thought you could use the rest,” I said and she gave me a displeased look. Sawyer didn’t like anyone telling her what she needed. She never had. That was one of the things she and Patrick always butted heads over. But he just stood his ground with her. Honestly I think he secretly loved to ignite that fire in her.
Instead of coming back at me with arguments about why she was fine, she moved toward the kitchen and left us to tend to the baby. Dishes clinked against one another, and cabinet doors shut harder than I knew was necessary.
“Can you finish up with her?” I began to move Abigail away from my chest without waiting for Willow to respond. “I think I need to check on Sawyer.”
Willow willingly took Abby and I walked to the kitchen. Pausing in the doorway, I watched Sawyer wash the pan Willow had used to warm the bottle, then place it in the dish drainer. She moved on to the coffee cup on the counter, which held the coffee I’d poured less than fifteen minutes prior.
“I wasn’t done with that y
et.”
She jerked in surprise.
“I know right now it doesn’t feel like it, but it will—”
“Don’t you dare say it.” It was my turn to be surprised by her words. She turned to face me, still holding the coffee cup. “It won’t get better. Losing a part of yourself can never get better.” Sawyer gripped it tighter. “It hurts, Gage, it physically hurts.” She hurled the cup and it smashed against the wall only a few feet away from us. “It fucking hurts,” she screamed as she sagged to the floor at my feet.
I hurried across the kitchen and knelt beside her.
“Nothing in my life has ever hurt this much.” I didn’t speak, giving her the chance to let go of her pain. “All those years I bounced around from home to home, never feeling as if I could be loved. All those times I got shipped off to the next place as if I wasn’t worth the time, it hurt, but never this bad. No one has ever loved me the way he has, and now that he’s gone….” She lifted her head, locking her baby-blue eyes with mine. “I feel so lost.”
“Me too,” I confessed. “I’ve always had him, you know. He was just a phone call away or a short drive.” I paused, trying to control that deep ache in my chest. “I never meant we’d forget him, or that with time it wouldn’t hurt. I think we both know it’ll always hurt. When something happens and he’s the one person we think of to share it with, it’ll hurt because we can’t. I just meant that with time it may grow a little easier to think of him without feeling as if we’re being cut open all over again.”
She nodded as if finally understanding.
“He was the guy I always turned to, and he was special, Sawyer. I feel raw, empty, and lost too. I just think we need to hold each other up. Just don’t push me away, because I know you want to. It’s how you work.”
“Don’t act like you know me so well.” A small smile tugged at her lips and suddenly the air around us felt a little less thick.
“I know you, Sawyer.” I took her hand. “Which means you also know me, and you know that even if you push me away, I’m still gonna be here.”
I wouldn’t let her fall.
Chapter 23
Sawyer
It’d been a week since we’d buried Patrick. Each day I woke up telling myself that today I would celebrate his life, only to fall back into the darkness that consumed my every thought. It was ugly, hateful, and it made me into a person I didn’t want to be, but I couldn’t control it.
I wanted to know why he’d been taken from me, yet no one had the answer.
After I’d place Abigail back into her crib after her early morning feeding, I’d find myself on the back porch sitting on the swing and staring off into the yard. At times I’d swear I could still see him. There he’d be working along the fence line, or riding the lawn mower shirtless, and it only made my longing for him stronger.
Sometimes when I closed my eyes and sat alone in the silence of our room, I thought I could hear his voice or his sweet laughter. I wished over and over to hear his deep snoring again, knowing no amount of wishing would bring it back. But that still never stopped me.
Willow and Gage had practically moved in with me, and though I appreciated their efforts, I just wanted to be alone. I wanted to be able to mourn and fall apart without either of them freaking out and attempting to console me. I didn’t want to be comforted. I wanted to hate God and everyone around me. I wanted to hide away and not be forced to smile when all I felt like doing was crying.
Then I’d think of Abby and know I couldn’t.
I jolted in surprise at the squeak of the screen door and looked to my left. Gage emerged onto the porch carrying a blanket over his arm and a cup of coffee in each hand. The steam lifted from each cup as he walked toward me with a concerned expression that made my chest tighten with familiar anxiety.
“It’s a little cold out here,” he said as he handed me a cup. “I brought this too.”
I didn’t reply as he draped the blanket over my legs, then sat on the swing next to me. We sipped our coffee in silence.
Gage and Patrick had always been so close both in size and in the way they handled things. But while at one time Patrick was more hands-on while Gage was more standoffish, lately I’d seen another side to him. Part of me wanted to lean into him and allow my mind to believe for a moment that Pat was holding me close, yet I knew there were so many things wrong with that impulsive thought. Gage was not and could never be Patrick.
“I’ve seen you out here every morning,” he finally said. “I’ve watched you smile and close your eyes as if some thought or memory has hit you.”
Tears formed in my eyes as I looked away from him, trying my best to hide my reaction.
“Is that what you’re doing? Remembering him?”
I nodded because I couldn’t even form a simple word at the moment.
“I do that too, you know.” I shifted on the porch swing and finally looked at him to find tears pooling in his eyes as well. “Sometimes when I’m sitting in the living room, watching a game or even some sports announcer recapping the highlights, I look over at that damn recliner expecting to see him there.” He swallowed and let out a long, slow, calming breath. “Last night I had this dream that he’d called me.” He finally looked over at me. “It was all so real. He was excited and out of breath, and you wanna know what he called to tell me?”
I wasn’t sure I did. I had a feeling it would break me.
“He called to tell me that Abigail said her first word.” A single tear ran along his cheek. “Daddy.”
I stared at him, and with each passing second, I felt myself crumbling. Gage wasn’t telling me these things to hurt me. He, too, was in need of someone to support him. I just wasn’t sure I could be that person.
“I’ve been thinking,” I said, trying my best to forget what he’d just told me. “You and Willow have been so good about helping out, but I know that you both have lives to get back to. You have work and she has the church.”
“I took time off.” I already knew this, but I also knew that time was dwindling.
“I know you promised Patrick, but Gage, that was unfair.”
“And how’s that?”
“Abigail and I aren’t your responsibility,” I said and immediately felt like an ass. “I just think that maybe I need to heal on my own.”
“What you really mean to say is that you want to hide out and ignore everyone around you.” He stared at me as if daring me to tell him different. “I may have made a promise to Patrick, but over time that promise became more, Sawyer. You and Abigail are my family. You were before and you are now. Family doesn’t turn their back on family when they need one another.” I started to speak, but he shook his head and stood from the swing, making the blanket draped over our laps fall away. “You can feed me all the shit you want about needing to be alone, but I think we both know that’s nothing but lies. The only thing you want is to push everyone away. But I got news for you.” He leaned in close, giving me that intense look of his, the one I’d only seen a time or two when he was worked up about something. “You can push all you want, Sawyer, but I’m not going anywhere.”
Before I could speak, he turned and walked back toward the door and allowed it to slam a little too hard when he stepped inside, leaving me alone with my thoughts.
I stared off again into the empty space where my husband used to be. He loved working in the yard, even if it was something as simple as mowing the lawn. I knew then that I would never be able to look around this land and not picture him doing some menial task.
For the first time in longer than I could remember, I smiled.
“I’m thinking a light gray, maybe.” Patrick turned from side to side, looking over the old barn that sat less than one hundred feet from our back porch. The paint was flaking and some of the boards along the bottom had rotted and needed replacement. “Or we could go with that brick-red color and then paint the shutters on the house the same color.”
I’d long ago given up the decision-making abo
ut the barn and simply watched him from the porch instead. It was much more pleasurable. He’d taken his T-shirt off and tucked it in the back pocket of his jeans, and his big work boots had dried mud along the soles from trudging around the damp soil in the yard. He was such a beautiful man, flawless in my eyes.
“Babe.” I looked up from my perusal of the man who held my heart and found him staring back at me with a knowing smirk. “Red?”
My cheeks heated. I’d have thought I’d be able to control my blushing by now, but each day with Patrick felt like the first. “Red is perfect.”
For a moment we simply stared at one another, him with that adorable crooked smile and me with what I was sure was the silliest grin. After an extended pause that made my heart race, he moved toward me. Each step made my adrenaline spike, and the moment his boots clunked against the wooden steps that led to me, I sat up a little straighter.
“You should know by now that when you look at me that way, it leads to very dirty things.” He placed a hand on either side of me, caging me in my chair. “You get more beautiful every day,” he whispered as he leaned in closer and brushed his lips over mine. “I still don’t understand how I got so lucky to find you, but I thank God every day, baby. You’re my heart.”
With one swift and impressive move, he lifted me from the chair.
“Forget the barn.” He skimmed the side of his nose over my own. “All I want to do is get lost in you.”
I lifted my hand to wipe away the fresh tears on my cheeks. Memories of Patrick still hurt so much, but I couldn’t ignore them. I had to power through the pain; I needed to.
Gage was right. One day maybe that ache wouldn’t be so crippling. Maybe someday I’d be able to think of him with happiness instead of pain.
Maybe one day.
I couldn’t be afraid of the life that lay ahead. For Patrick, I couldn’t be afraid.
