Me After You (9 page)

“Are you still friends with Lily?”

“We hang out sometimes, but she’s a different person. I’m a different person. We drifted apart.”

“And she ended up with my ex-boyfriend.” It didn’t feel right calling him that. I never referred to him as my boyfriend before. It never seemed to encompass everything he was to me.

“And she turned to the dark side, so yeah, we aren’t BFF’s anymore.”

“Wow.” I exhale. “Things just keep getting better and better.” I squeeze my eyes tightly to squash the tears before they can make an appearance. Ugh.
Why can’t I shut off this freaking fountain already?

“Hey… Hey… She has your old trash. That says a lot about her. And him for that matter.”

I want to tell her not to call him trash. He’s not trash. He crushed my heart, left me broken, but he isn’t trash. He is something else entirely. “I hate that the sight of him with someone else makes me feel like this.”

“Like what?”

As if my heart has somehow been ripped out. I don’t understand how that’s possible. Sometimes I feel like my heart is still missing. “Like I’ve lost him all over again.”

“Sawyer, he was your first love. I don’t think that’s something you’ll ever be numb to. You shouldn’t beat yourself up over it. It’s normal.”

“Is it?” I ask, but I’m not really expecting an answer.

“So I’ve heard. C’mon, we’ve got a nail appointment to get to and then some cupcakes to devour. Polly just made a fresh batch and I know you’re going to die when you try her raspberry and white chocolate cupcake. I die. Seriously.”

“I can’t believe she’s still breathing, no less baking cupcakes every day.”

“She’s actually getting ready to turn the bakery over to someone else. You’re looking for a job. Why don’t you see if she could use some help? I know how much you love baking.”

“At Sprinkles?” I’d never thought about it before, but somehow it sounds like the perfect place for me.

“Yes! My plan is falling into place. You can get me free cupcakes any time I want. That’s it. Settles it. You’re going to work for Polly.”

L
ILY
HOLDS
MY
hand so tightly it’s as if she saw the exchange between Sawyer and me, but I know she didn’t. Unless she knew Sawyer was there, and that’s why she kissed me, to remind me I was with her. Even I know it’s not necessary. Or is it?

Sawyer is back. My hopes of that happening died the day she said
I do
to Grayson, but I can’t deny the hopefulness that formed in my chest the moment our eyes met today. And I know it’s selfish, and I shouldn’t hope that this could be my saving grace, that this was a second chance gifted to me, because honestly, I know I don’t deserve it. It’s just that no one has ever made me feel the way Sawyer did. The way Sawyer does. It hasn’t changed. Though those six years were long, they changed nothing.

But the hurt I saw in her eyes today was different from the day I saw her outside of Pearl’s floral shop. It’s different from when I saw her at Sole Fest. Today it’s not related to Grayson or my disappearance all those years ago. This hurt looked more like jealousy. But she couldn’t blame me for moving on. She got married. What was left but learning to get over her?

Then it hits me.

“Is there something going on between you and Lily?” she asks. Her face is so serious, but the question is so ridiculous I nearly laugh.

“Lily? Lily Jamison? Your best friend, Lily?”
 

“Yes, my Lily. What other Lily would I be talking about?” Sawyer glares at me from the driver’s side of her car.

I lift my hands in surrender. “I just want to make sure we’re on the same page here. Are you insane?”

“Excuse me?” She looks disgusted, and I almost laugh. It’s so hard to take her seriously when she’s mad. She’s like an angry kitten.

I’m shaking my head in disbelief. “Why would something be going on between Lily and me?”

Sawyer shrugs, but it’s not because she’s unsure. She expects me to understand what she’s talking about.

“Jack, where is this coming from?”

She exhales. “The way you two were flirting today made it seem as if there was something that I’ve been missing, and I don’t want to be one of those dumb girls where everyone knows there’s something going on behind my back, but no one wants to say anything, and so I’m left in the dark looking like an idiot. I want you to be honest with me.”

I chuckle, shaking my head again. This is crazy. “I don’t know what you saw today, but it wasn’t flirting and if it was, it didn’t mean anything.”

“Do you think she’s prettier than me?”

She really is insane. I gently tuck my finger under her chin so she’ll look me in the eyes—really look at me. Her skin is so soft I stroke my finger back and forth. “You’re joking, right? Of course she’s not prettier than you. Why are you so worried about this?”

Her eyes soften, and I see my Sawyer coming back to life. “I see the way she looks at you. And all of the guys in school think she’s so gorgeous, as if she’s the Holy Grail of hot girls. And I realize she’s my best friend, and friends don’t do that to friends, but you really never know.”

I can’t help it any longer. I laugh. “Well, she’s not ugly, but you’re the only one I see, Jack. I think
you’re
gorgeous. I don’t want Lily. I want
you
. That’s why I’m with
you
. And I’m lucky to have you.”

“But if she wanted to be with you, would you want to be with her?” Her voice is quiet, so unlike the Sawyer I know. I don’t understand why this is bothering her so much. There’s nothing for her to worry about. She really is delusional. I could never want anyone but Sawyer. Not Lily. Not Scarlett freaking Johansson. Okay, maybe Scarlett Johansson. Who am I kidding? I love Sawyer.

“Never,” I say, taking her face in my hands to kiss her. To kiss away any thoughts that could be clouding her mind. I want to be the only thing on her mind. When she gasps I know I have her complete attention, and I take full advantage of it.

“You know I was thinking we could make you a key today,” Lily says.

I look down at Lily—and her hopeful expression—and feel like crap knowing where my mind had wandered. She wants to move forward, which makes sense. I was nearly on the same level as her until recently. My love for her hasn’t changed. But is it the kind of love she deserves?

“I mean we’re always at one another’s houses,” she continues. “It would be convenient, you know?” she says casually.

It would be harmless to do it. It wasn’t as if we ever stayed the night. I set that rule. That was crossing a line that caused more drama than I needed. But I cared for Lily. I did. I could give her this. I didn’t have to use the key. And I didn’t have to offer her a key to my house. Yet.

“Okay.” I offer a smile.

“Really?”

“Really.” I nod. Though, as soon as I agree, the regret sets in, and I know I can’t take it back. But maybe this is the direction we’re supposed to go. What if I’ve just been so selfishly stuck on Sawyer lately that I haven’t been giving my relationship with Lily a fair enough chance?

She squeals, and I internally cringe at the sound as she urges me toward Art’s Hardware.
Ugh, what did I just do?

***

Our bags swing at our sides as Lily and I make our way back to my truck after our day out. My keys weigh down in my pocket, reminding me of the extra one that I’ve added to my key ring.

“I’ve got this delicious pasta recipe I discovered that I’ve been dying to try out. We can make that tonight. I think you’ll love it. It’s alfredo-based.”

“Sounds good to me.” I nod.

“Do you have sundried tomatoes at your house? Oh, who am I kidding?” She giggles. “Let’s just do it at my house. I know I have everything I need there.”

“Okay,” I agree with a shrug.

I peer across the street and see Sawyer and Alix leaving Sprinkles. Sawyer laughs at something Alix says, and it makes my heart lighter. I haven’t seen that face in far too long. It doesn’t matter that I’m not the one eliciting that sort of reaction from her. She appears to be happy—for the moment—and that makes me happy. She takes a bite of a cupcake and nods at Alix, like she’s telling her how good it is. Alix’s eyes bulge in agreement when she takes a bite of hers.

Sawyer and Alix back together again. It’s such a natural picture. They’re missing one person from that equation though. She’s walking next to me.

“What are you smiling about?” Lily asks, pulling me out of my stupor.

I peer down at her, and her cheerful face slowly falls as she places where my eyes were plastered.
 

“Oh.” She pauses. Even through that one small word, I can hear the bitterness. “Well, she looks a little too happy for someone who just lost her husband.”

I scowl. “That’s a little judgmental, don’t you think? For lots of reasons. She lost her husband barely five months ago. You don’t think she deserves the right to have one moment of peace? I doubt she has them very often.”

That shuts Lily up. “You’re right. But I guess I gave up that right to be in the know when I chose to be with you.”

The fact that she throws that at me makes me want to walk away right then and there.

She continues, “I just mean I chose you, Dean. Over anyone else, I would always choose having a life with you. It trumps any other relationship.”

After she says that, my temper ebbs. I’d never really thought about it like that. From her perspective, she gave up her friendship with her best friends to be with me. I’m not sure how I feel about that. I don’t want to be anybody’s reason for ruining a relationship. Strong, valuable relationships are hard to come by. It’s stupid to throw them away if you’re lucky enough to have them. But I guess if she was willing to give up what she had with Alix and Sawyer, it wasn’t that strong to begin with.

P
OLLY
HIRED
ME
. I started the week after Alix and I stopped by. Though she knew I had little experience, she was desperate to have a willing hand. She hasn’t officially decided to turn over her business to anyone yet, but she did need some help around the bakery. Long days weren’t as easy for her to handle anymore. So, I offered to help and she said yes. The job fell into place.

I’ve only been working there for a few days, but I can already feel myself wearing down. It’s been a few months since I’ve had a job, and my body isn’t ready for the stress I’m putting it under. I’m doing all the heavy lifting for Polly. All the flour and sugar bags weigh a thousand pounds, I swear. I definitely won’t have to go to the gym. This lifting will do enough toning.

I offered to close up Sprinkles for her today, and even though it’s only nine o’clock, I could probably go to bed now and sleep for days. I slowly trudge down the hallway toward my room. I’m fairly certain my feet could fall off any second. I’m passing the family picture hodgepodge my mom has created over the years when I notice something different. The wall is filled with old pictures of my brother, Blaine, and me from birth up until… Grayson. In the middle of all our old family pictures hangs a collage of Grayson and me. Pictures I must have mailed to her while we were dating circle around a picture of us on our wedding day.

Grayson stands in his dark brown suit behind me in my fitted, cream lace dress. His arms encircle my waist as his cheek rests up against mine. I remember my mom taking this picture. I’m smiling at the camera, and I thought that he was, too, but he’s not. He’s peering at me from the corner of his eyes. There’s a small tilt to the corner of his mouth. My heart clenches at the adoration I see in his eyes. I should walk away now, but I can’t.

I take the picture frame off the wall. My fingers grip it tightly as our small memories cloud my mind: a picture of us in front of the Space Needle, a close up of us on the couch inside his studio apartment, one of us up against the railing on a ferry off the coast of Seattle, and one of us outside the front door of our first apartment. I don’t realize how tightly I’m grasping the frame until the glass breaks beneath my hold. I see the cracks across our memories and realize that’s all I have left of him—a handful of shattered memories.

A cry rips through my throat, and I throw the frame against the wall. Glass flies everywhere, but I don’t stop there. My hands drag across the long wall, tearing the rest of picture frames from the wall, one by one. None of those memories matter. The glass explodes at my feet like detonating grenades. I’m screaming and crying with no regard for my actions as our past falls to the floor.

“Sawyer! Sawyer, stop!” Mom shouts as she runs up the stairs. But I don’t listen. My hands swipe the other way, knocking more to the ground. “Stop it, Sawyer!” She struggles to control my outburst, reaching around me to grab my hands. Her arms snatch mine, securing them beneath her hold.

“No!” I cry. “No, no, no…”

“Baby, that’s enough! Baby!” She holds me hostage until I stop thrashing, and we collapse onto the ground. “Sawyer,” she whispers into my ear with a quiver. I quiet down, but the tears convulse my body as I crumple against her chest. “Oh, sweetheart,” she soothes, but nothing soothes me anymore.

I lose track of how long she’s been cradling me in the hallway when she murmurs, “We need to get you patched up.” I shake my head mechanically to protest, but she lifts me to my feet. My eyes are dry, but I’m covered in tears. She ushers me to the bathroom with her hand behind my back, carefully guiding me forward. Sitting me down on the closed toilet lid, she gestures for me to stay put and digs through the medicine cabinet. My tears fall from my cheeks onto the skin of my hands, and I look down to wipe them away. But it’s not tears. It’s blood.

I wipe my hands across my wet cheeks and come away with a mixture of red and tears on my palms. My mom turns and sees me with smeared cheeks and winces. She helps me to the sink to wash my face and hands. With a white washcloth she dabs my face dry and sits me down again.

“Do you feel better?” she asks, her hand resting on my shoulder.