“Come here, doc,” I say drawing her into my embrace. She’s chilly from the night air, and I wonder if she stood outside thebuilding trying to decide whether she should come in. I rub my palms up and down her gooseflesh, but she’s causing goose bumps to appear on my skin too. All I have on are the gray sweats. She wraps her arms around me, and I stifle the jump by body tries to make when her cold hands connect with my skin.
“Sorry,” she murmurs, and her voice is watery.
I take her hand, and after I flip the lock on the door, I lead her deeper into the apartment to the primary bedroom where I normally sleep. The other bed would be warmer than mine, but going there might lead to questions I don’t want to answer right now. There are still some pages left in the diary, and I have more to discover.
In my room, I get under the covers, and then I open them for her to slide in with me. She doesn’t hesitate, and I love that she’s back, even if whatever brought her back is clearly tearing into her in some way. The bedside lamp is still on, and I reach back to turn it off. The room darkens with the curtains parted slightly. Light from the street casts a faint glow, just enough to make out Sawyer’s shape.
“What’s going on?” I murmur against the top of her head, once I have her securely wrapped in my arms, chest to chest.
“I had a nightmare, and I just wanted you. After I asked you to leave, I felt terrible. I didn’t want you to leave.” Her voice is thick with tears. “But I didn’t know how to tell you… How to tell you…”
“Doc, you can tell me anything. Anything. As long as I’ve got two fists and a heartbeat, I’ll be standing right beside you for whatever you need. Always. Even—” I swallow down the rawness of my own emotion. “Even after this season.” I can’t say when the season is “done” because that’ll meanwe’redone, and I’m not facing that until I have to. My ability to compartmentalize means the breakup’s not even happening. I don’t think about it. She’s mine, and that’s all there is to it.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t—I should have been more supportive when you told me about your family reaching out. That was probably a big shock.”
“We can leave that for another day. I don’t have to rush to connect with them just because they want to.” I tuck her in tighter, and I kiss the top of her head. “I meant what I said about you always looking after other people. Let me look after you.”
She buries her face in the crook of my neck, and she shakes with sobs. I run my hand along her back, and I’m at a loss for words. Instead of telling her it’ll be okay, which is what I want to do, I don’t say anything. Until she tells me what’s going on, I have no idea whether “okay” is even possible.
“Did something happen today?” I ask when her crying quiets.
“There are things I haven’t told you,” she says, her lips skimming the skin at my throat before she draws back and wipes her face with her hand. “And we’re so public, and it’s out of my control.”
“We’re out of control?” I squint down at her, trying to follow. “Please tell me you didn’t take back your socials. Tamiko is still running them, right?”
She wiggles out of my embrace, and I let her, even though I don’t want to. On her back now, she stares at the ceiling.
“I don’t want you to be surprised,” she whispers, “but telling you is really hard,”
The thing is, I know her, probably as well as I’ve ever known anyone in my life. When she talks, I pay attention. “I don’t know what it is, doc. But I’m not afraid to know all of you. Even the parts that you might think are ugly.”
She covers her eyes with her forearm, and her body shakes with sobs again. I drag her back into my embrace because I don’t know what else to do, and she lets me.
As the sobs subside again, she clings onto me, not pulling back like last time. “There are photos and videos of me.” Her voice is hushed.
Silence blooms between us, and my brain finally clicks. “Photos and videos you wouldn’t want other people to see?”
“Yeah.” Her voice hitches on another sob. “And I don’t know if they’re going to stay private.”
“Yours?” I ask. “Did you get hacked?”
“Dalton’s,” she says, and her voice is so small I almost ask her to say it again.
I go tense without meaning to, and Sawyer’s grip on me tightens.
“I’m sorry,” she says.
“You don’t need to be sorry, doc. We’ve talked about sex a lot, and if you’re into that kind of thing…” But then I remember her reaction to me trying to take her photo in the kitchen when she was half-dressed. “Did youknowthose photos and videos were being taken?”
“Some of them.”
“Some of them? Only some?”
“I never agreed to any of them. He just did it.”
I close my eyes, and I take a deep breath, trying to calm my inner Hulk that’s threatening to rage out of control.
“The thing is,” she says, and she eases back to press her forehead into my chest, but she’s still not making any attempt at eye contact, “if people see those videos, I think it’ll look like I’m okay with them. But I never said yes to any of it, and when I asked him to delete them, he just brushed me off.”
