The Unwanted Assistant

by Evangeline Kelly

  Nudging me, she said, “That guy’s watching us.”

  I followed her line of vision, and there was Sawyer, waiting for me a short distance away. He stood, head and shoulders above the rest of the crowd, eyes locked on me.

  “You know him?” she asked, almost breathy. “He’s kind of hot.” She leaned forward to whisper in my ear. “I love men with battle wounds.”

  I glanced at her, frustrated. I’d been trying hard to remain strong in my decision to keep Sawyer at arm’s length—even tried distancing myself emotionally. Granted, I’d had a weak moment when I agreed to let him walk with me between classes.

  It irked me that her one remark made me jealous. I should have been past this by now. I glanced at her, but she wasn’t looking at me. She was looking at him.

  “Yeah, I know him.” My voice sounded foreign, like somewhere between a croak and a whisper. I did my best to push away my feelings because I had no right to be jealous, not when I’d made it clear he and I could only be friends. “Sorry, but he’s waiting for me. I have to go. See you Wednesday.”

  As I walked up to Sawyer, our eyes met and traitorous butterflies swirled in my stomach. Time and distance hadn’t diminished my reaction to him. “You’re actually here.”

  “Why are you surprised?”

  “I wasn’t sure you’d feel comfortable around a bunch of college students.”

  “I’m finding most people mind their own business. Some stare but . . . it’s not as bad as I thought it would be.”

  “Well, if it means anything,” I said, jerking my chin to the place Joline stood, watching us. “My friend over there thinks you’re hot.”

  He didn’t take his eyes off me to look at her. “Only one person’s opinion matters to me.”

  A warm, heady sensation washed over me. I shoved a hand into my pocket and turned in the direction of my next class. Stay strong, Ivy.

  He easily kept pace with my quick steps, and we were both quiet for what seemed like an eternity, neither of us venturing to talk. Curious students cast glances our way. He had a magnetic presence, and without seeming to realize it, carried himself in a way that drew attention from everyone in our path. From what I could tell, most weren’t looking at his scars or if they were, they didn’t make it obvious.

  “I miss seeing you every day,” he finally said. “You’re constantly on my mind—”

  “Please, don’t say that.” The familiar ache was back, sore and throbbing in my chest. “This is why I almost didn’t tell you how to find me at school. I can’t hear this right now.”

  He looked like I’d just stabbed him in the heart. “Okay. What would you like to talk about then?”

  I shrugged. “Nothing at the moment.”

  Neither of us spoke for the rest of the walk, and when I saw the building for my next class, I stopped in my tracks. “I'll go on from here without you.”

  He nodded but didn’t seem pleased. “Can I at least give you a hug goodbye?”

  “No.”

  He laughed, a tinge of bitterness brewing just beneath the surface. “I never thought I’d see the day when I was the one begging for a hug.”

  “Sometimes irony comes back to bite you in the butt.”

  He needed to get the message that if he planned on returning, I wouldn't make it easy.

  “Seems you’re right.”

  I willed myself not to look at him, and it was my turn to wave a dismissive goodbye like none of this mattered. Only it didn’t feel good. It didn’t feel good at all.

  ***

  Wednesday came, and I was sure after my cold reception on Monday, he wouldn’t be waiting for me this time. But as I walked out of Gordon Palmer Hall there he was, arms crossed over his chest, appearing more determined than ever. I almost smiled. Almost.

  “I didn’t think I’d see you today,” I said, trying to keep the relief out of my voice.

  “Why? I made my intentions clear.”

  “I made mine clear as well.”

  His honey brown eyes filled with pain and then resolve. “I’m here as your friend, Ivy. That hasn’t changed. Not until you want it to.”

  I pressed my lips together and walked in the direction of my next class. He followed, matching my stride. The lack of conversation was unsettling, but I resisted the urge to talk for the sake of filling the silence.

  “How was your last class?” he asked.

  “It was okay.”

  “Just okay?”

  “A-huh.”

  “Your next class is Art History, right?”

  “Yeah.”

  “What are you learning?”

  I smirked. “The history of art.”

  “Smart-aleck.”

  It was hard to resist a smile, so I gave into it. Sawyer continued to ask questions, and I fed him one-word replies. Eventually, he would tire of this exchange, and I would go back to my mission—forget about men—forget about relationships. We went on like that until the destination of my next class was in sight.

  “Here’s my building,” I said.

  He laughed, sounding amused. “Look at us, Ivy. We’ve come full circle. Only this time it’s me trying to draw you out.”

  I smiled and licked my lips, almost enjoying what I was about to say. “Well, that’s a turn I hadn’t expected. Do I have to pay you a substantial salary?”

  He grinned. “No, but a hug would work.”

  My laughter was loud, drawing a few curious glances from passing students. “Dream on.” I turned to leave, waving goodbye as I did.

  “I’ll wait until dreams become reality,” he said, voice carrying several feet away.

  I glanced at him over my shoulder. “Just so you know, Friday is the last day before the holiday break, and I won’t see you for a while after that. You might get your hug then.”

  Sawyer

  It was Friday morning, and it had been at least five minutes since a stream of students had poured out of Gordon Palmer Hall. Ivy was talking to William, the guy I’d seen her with at the hospital. My stomach twisted, and I thought I might hurl. How was I supposed to have enough self-control to watch this go down?

  He was smiling—way too friendly.

  I wanted to get in-between them, make my presence known. But that wouldn’t be fair to her, and I’d meant what I said the day after her accident. I really did want what was best for her even if it wasn’t me. Turning away, I clenched my fists and grit my teeth.

  Since I only had fifteen minutes with her, every second counted. The longer she and William talked, the more it felt like someone had turned an hourglass over and time slipped through my fingers. A few minutes later, she waved goodbye and William walked in the opposite direction.

  When she joined me, she let out a heavy sigh. “I’m running late today, so we need to walk fast.”

  I nodded. “Not a problem.” I decided not to question her about William. It was her business, and I had to respect that. Plus, I couldn’t stomach the details.

  A breeze blew past us, ruffling her hair as we walked. The scent was intoxicating, the combination of flowers and strawberries. “You’ve been making organic shampoo again. Smells good, Shortcake.”

  She glanced at me, eyes widening at the use of my old nickname for her. “Don’t you have anything better to do than to walk me to class? I thought you’d tire of this by now.”

  “This is the only time I get with you, so no, I’m not tired.”

  Silence.

  I ran a hand through my hair. Was this how she’d felt when she first started working for me? The phrase, “What goes around, comes around” came to mind. Talking to her was like talking to a brick wall. I wanted so badly to connect with her again, but it was clear we weren’t on the same page anymore.

  “I’ve been working with Hayden,” I said abruptly.

  That seemed to capture her attention. “At the office, or at home?”

  “The office. He’s been showing me the ropes. I actually—”

  She stopped walking, and I recogniz
ed her building in the distance. “You actually what?”

  “I like it—a lot. It’s good to have a purpose every day. A reason to get out of bed.”

  “I’m glad.” She touched my arm. “You’ve taken some big steps. I’m really proud of you.”

  “You are?”

  “Of course, I am, Sawyer. Despite what you probably think, I do still care about you.” She glanced in the direction of her next class. “I should get going.” Her gaze found mine, and for a second I saw all the longing and pent-up emotions I’d felt these past few weeks, reflected back in her eyes. “You don’t need to walk me to class to prove you’re my friend.”

  I chuckled. “You don’t understand, do you? This isn’t about proving anything. How can I not be here when this is all the time I get with you?”

  She paled. “When you say things like that I almost—”

  “Want to give up this charade?”

  “I was going to say, I almost think you mean it.”

  My brows knit together. “This isn’t a game to me. I’m here for the long haul, in whatever capacity you’ll allow. As your friend or more than that. But I’m not going anywhere.”

  She seemed uncertain, confused. Was I getting through to her, or was my tenacity making it worse?

  “Answer this,” she said. “You could have broken up with me face-to-face. Why did you make Hayden do it?”

  “Because I knew I’d cave the moment I saw you. I wanted to be with you. Still do. I’ll never let anything get between us again.”

  “You don’t know the future. You can’t make a promise like that.”

  “I can promise I won’t be the one to break up with you.”

  She appeared uncertain again, stepping one foot in the direction of her class.

  “Ivy,” I said, a rush of nerves flowing through me like a flash flood racing off a cliff. “You invited me a while back to spend Christmas break with you. Is your invitation still open?”

  The blood drained from her face and her mouth opened in surprise. “You want to come with me to California?”

  I nodded. “There’s nothing I want more.”

  She bit down on her bottom lip and looked away. “I’m doing my best to keep our relationship at a friendship level. I need to do this, Sawyer. I’m not ready. If you come home with me . . . I don’t think it’s a good idea. I’m sorry.”

  I hadn’t expected a different answer, but the weight of disappointment sat heavily on my chest. “When will I see you again?”

  “Classes start back up the first week in January, but I’m flying in the day after Christmas because I have to work.”

  So, she would be gone a little over two weeks. It seemed like a long time but I would have to manage.

  “Since I won’t see you on Christmas, let me give this to you now.” I lifted a small box out of my pocket and handed it to her.

  Her eyes lit up. “Thank you. I got you a gift, too.” She zipped open her backpack and pulled out a small gift bag with snowflakes on it. “It’s not much, but I hope you like it.”

  “Can I open it now?” I asked.

  She nodded.

  I pulled out something hard and heavy, protected by tissue paper. Unfolding the paper, I smiled. It was a mug with a Treble Cleft and it said, “Treble Maker.”

  Laughing, I tipped the cup to get a better look. “You know me so well. This is perfect for my coffee in the morning.”

  “There’s something else.”

  I reached into the bag and pulled out another item wrapped in tissue paper. “Hmm,” I said, glancing at her with a grin. “I wonder what this is?” I unwrapped the paper and did my best to calm the rush of emotion filling me. It was the picture she had taken of us at the pond in a small silver frame. She wouldn’t have given me a gift like this if she didn’t think there was a small chance we could be together. “I love it. It means everything to me.” I ran a finger over the edge of the frame and pushed past the lump in my throat. “I don’t want to make you late, so you’d better open yours now.”

  She unwrapped the box and opened it, eyes going wide as she stared at the diamond key pendant with an emerald at the top.

  “Oh, Sawyer, it’s so beautiful.”

  “You hold the key to my heart. That might sound cheesy but it's one hundred percent true. I hope you’ll wear this necklace and think of me.”

  Tears filled her eyes, and I stepped forward and put a hand on her arm. “Taped to the bottom of the box, you’ll find a new key to my house. It doesn’t make up for what I did, but it’s a start.”

  Her eyes held so much longing as she touched the key and then glanced at me. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “Don’t say anything. Just enjoy the time with your family and when you have a moment, pray about us.”

  She nodded. “I will.”

  I helped her put the necklace on, and then she wrapped her arms around my waist and hugged me. We stood like that for several moments.

  “I hope you have a Merry Christmas, Sawyer. I’ll be thinking of you while I’m gone.” She pulled away, and I watched her walk to class.

  I thought about how she had once won me over with her kindness. Now it was my turn to win her over. I would wait as long as it took, and ultimately, kill her with kindness.

  Chapter 34

  Sawyer

  It was Ivy’s first Sunday after returning from California, and I was anxious to spend time with her. Each day rolled by slowly without her—a true test of patience—but I'd gotten through by remembering the look on her face when she'd seen the key pendant. She hadn't been able to hide the joy on her face, and that gave me hope.

  I asked to speak with her after church, and she agreed. As we walked towards the back of the sanctuary where we would have more privacy, my stomach turned with apprehension because her expression seemed more guarded than usual.

  She took a seat on the pew, and I sat next to her.

  “How was your Christmas?” I asked.

  She smiled slightly. “It was good. Mom had the day off, and she made a big turkey dinner. How about you?”

  “It was nice. I spent it with Hayden and Sarah. Thought about you the whole time.”

  Instead of seeming happy by my statement, she appeared almost worried. “Sawyer, I know you're wondering if I’ve changed my mind about us starting where we left off.” She paused for a long moment, her forehead wrinkling. “This probably isn't what you want to hear, but I don’t think we should do this anymore.”

  My head jerked back, and I stiffened. “What do you mean?”

  She looked ahead, refusing to make eye contact. “I’ve had some time to think. You need to move on with your life.”

  The statement knocked the wind out of me. For several moments I couldn’t speak—could barely breathe.

  “Be straight with me, Ivy. Maybe you want to move on with your life. Have you been seeing William? Is that what this is about?” I clenched my jaw, not really wanting to know, but still needing an answer.

  “This has nothing to do with him. We did go out a second time, but I told him I don’t see him as more than a friend.”

  “Did he accept that?”

  “Yes. I’m pretty sure he’s interested in Sammie.”

  Relief settled over me and I let out a long breath. If her response had been different, I didn’t know how I’d handle the news. “If it’s not about him, then what’s going on?”

  She gripped the back of the pew so tightly her knuckles turned white. “I just don’t think we should prolong this.” She kept her expression hard, but the trembling of her lower lip suggested something else. “It’s wrong to let you hope.”

  “I told you I’d be here as your friend and I meant that,” I said calmly, doing my best to reassure her. “I understand trust is earned and it'll take time.”

  “But you’re hoping our friendship will eventually turn into more. Am I right?”

  “Yes, but—”

  “Then this has to stop.”

  “What are
you saying? You don’t want a friendship with me?”

  She looked away but not before I caught a glimpse of tortured eyes.

  “I can’t be your friend, Sawyer. It hurts too much.”

  A wave of nausea flooded through me as I tried to cope with what this meant: she wanted a clean break from me. “Things were better between us. Before you went home it seemed like you were starting to warm up to a friendship.” My voice was hoarse. “Did I do something wrong?”

  “No. This is about me. It’s my own personal issue.”

  “Be honest with me, Ivy. Tell me what’s going on here.”

  Her eyes filled with tears. “Please, just respect my decision. Don’t make this hard.”

  “If you no longer have feelings for me, I’ll walk away.”

  “This isn’t about that.”

  “Then what is it about? Explain it to me.”

  She flinched. “If I tell you, will you promise not to say anything and let me leave on my own?”

  My chest tightened and a sinking sensation took over in my gut—this was a bad idea and I shouldn't agree to it. Problem was, if I didn’t, I would never know the truth. I wanted to shake some sense into her, but I didn’t want to pressure her to do something she didn’t want to do. “Okay, I promise.”

  Tears rolled down her cheeks, and she swiped a hand across her face. “I’m scared and I can’t take any more heartbreak. You’re a risk, Sawyer. If I let myself get close to you again . . .” She shook her head. “This is the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, and it kills me, but I can’t go through that again.”

  I wanted so badly to reassure her that would never happen, but I bit back a reply because I’d promised not to say anything.

  Shame and guilt weighed heavily on me as I watched her leave. She hadn’t just taken my heart with her, she’d also thrown it to the ground and stomped all over it. I didn’t blame her for having that reaction. The blame fell solely on my own shoulders.

  ***