He shrugs in amaybe but maybe notway. I take a step back, relinquishing the comfort I found in his chest.
“What are you implying?”
His lips press together. He doesn't want to say it, but he’ll hint at it? I don’t think so.
“Say the words, Sawyer.”
“It’s too convenient, Jessie.” A pleading edge strains his tone. His hands run over his face. “Our parents were sleeping together when my mom died.”
I turn my chin away from his ludicrous words. My dad would never—
Except he might. Maybe. I don’tknow. I thought I knew him, but what do I know anymore?
Sawyer continues. “The sheriff said he was there the day of the accident. That her cause of death was clear.”
My shoulders sag with relief, but his next words rip away the feeling. “I couldn't leave it at that. I’m looking into it further.”
“You suspect your mom’s accident wasn't an accident?” My tone is incredulous. “Let’s pretend that’s true. Then who killed her? My dad?” My fingers rake through my hair, scratching my scalp.
“I don’t want it to be true, Jessie. But what would you do if you were me?” He catches my hands, gathering them in his own. The storm in his eyes has transferred into me. I feel like a ship tossed in a hurricane. “If you’d lost a parent when you were young, and then you learned something like this about them? I know you, Jessie. You’d exhaust all possibilities.”
He’s right. I’d turn over every stone.
And I know what all this means. If we strip away the shocking revelations, there is only one ending for us.
"We can’t be together," I weep, overwhelmed with all the emotions coursing through me.
"I know," Sawyer whispers, his voice breaking. "I know."
He drops my hands, but only to capture my face and stare into my eyes. A fresh round of tears releases. I was wrong. I do not want to know the truth and handle the pain. I want to be lied to.
Sawyer holds me for a long time, then lets me go. "I'm going back to California. I can't stay here. I can't be on the HCC, or even in Sierra Grande.” He shakes his head. "I have to put space between me and this place. For my well-being, and yours too. I hate your dad right now. I hate my mom a little bit too." He chokes on the admittance, tears filling his eyes.
"I understand," I whimper, my voice shaking. Right now, I hate my dad also.
I don't say a word as Sawyer leaves the room. I cry silently. He returns with his packed bags.
"I left one of my shirts on your bed. If you want to wear it to sleep in every once in a while…" he trails off. "I'd like knowing you're in the next state, wearing my shirt."
I watch him while he speaks, hearing what he has to say but not absorbing it. I’m too busy memorizing the way he talks more from the right side of his mouth, how he gestures, the arch of his eyebrows.
This can’t really be it for us. Right? It was good,wewere good, and then out of nowhere, the script flipped. I have to know more. He can’t leave this way.
“So what happens now? Do we talk again? Are we really over?” I cover my mouth with my hand to suppress a sob. Saying the words out loud is too much for me. Sawyer drops his bags and comes to me. Tenderly he cups my face. “I don’t have all the answers. Not yet.”
I take a deep breath, gathering myself from the inside. On the outside, I lift my chin, pull back my shoulders.
Sawyer watches, his eyes shiny with unshed tears. He touches my chin. “There she is. The indomitable woman I fell in love with.”
“You love me?” The tenuous hold I have on my composure is slipping. “I wish you wouldn’t have told me that.” It takes the pain and increases it ten-fold.
The tears in his eyes spill over. “I couldn't leave without having told you. You’ve helped me open up my heart. You’ve shown me how to love again.”
Indignation coils in my stomach. The future unfolds in my mind, and I see someone else, a nameless and faceless woman, reaping the benefits of what I did for Sawyer.
I put in the work, and one day someone else might win the prize.
“Just go,” I say, my tone harsh. I want to curl up alone with my broken heart.
