Jenna added a small can of green chilis to the pot, along with another can of crushed tomatoes, and stirred some more. She was opening the cans of beans when Sawyer spoke again.
“I’d finally had enough. Of the promises. Of the waiting. Took me five years—five fucking years of my life—but I finally realized she was never going to leave Cindy, that she couldn’t, that she didn’t know how, and she never would. I could never grasp the hold Cindy had on her, but whatever it was, it was stronger than any connection Amanda and I had. And the waiting had become brutal. I didn’t like that I was with somebody who was still with somebody else. I was never first. I was never the priority. When I’d complain about that, she’d talk down to me, make it sound like I was being petty and whiny and selfish. I started to feel really shitty about myself because she made me feel like I had no value, like I didn’t matter to her, like I was a bad person for getting involved in the first place. You know?”
When Jenna looked at her, there was such pain in Sawyer’s blue eyes, it made her own breath catch in her throat. She nodded.
“So, after many failed attempts and threats to break it off, I finally found my spine and did. I broke it off, and I meant it.”
“That had to be hard,” Jenna said.
“Hardest thing I’ve ever done.” She took another sip of wine. “I was destroyed. Devastated. And it’s weird how, in a situation like this,part of you hopes the other person is, too, because that would show that you did actually mean something to them. You know?”
Jenna nodded and Sawyer went on. “No such luck for me. Amanda moved on with somebody else in about two months.”
Jenna grimaced. “Oh, ouch,” she said again.
“Yeah. Christine, this chick from her office. I met her once at a bar, and I knew right away that there was something between them. It was obvious. So, when I found out, I was hurt but not surprised. If I could’ve said one thing to Christine, it would’ve been ‘Good luck, babe. She’ll never leave Cindy.’ ”
Jenna added the drained beans to the chili and stirred them in, riveted by the story Sawyer was telling her, heart aching for her.
“And then…” This time, Sawyer’s eyes welled up as she glanced off into the middle distance. “She shows up today—I didn’t give her my new address, by the way; she hunted me down—she shows up today to tell me she’s left Cindy. She’s moved out. Actuallymoved out.” Her eyes widened and she shook her head as if she couldn’t believe the words she’d just uttered. She took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “So I guess it wasn’t that she didn’t want to leave Cindy. She just didn’t want to leave her to be with me.”
“Oh, Sawyer.” Jenna didn’t want to sound full of pity, because she didn’t think that’s what Sawyer wanted from this discussion, but she couldn’t help it. What an awful fucking thing.
“And you know what the worst part is? I think she wanted me to be happy for her.” Sawyer’s sarcastic laugh rang through the kitchen.
“I’m so sorry. That had to be hard.”
“We’re so different, she and I. We always have been. She can turn her emotions on and off like that.” She snapped her fingers. “As soon as we broke up, she flipped a switch and we went from lovers to friends for her. Just like that. Well, I’m not wired that way, and like I said, I was crushed. My poor therapist has gotten so many earfuls.” This time, her soft laugh was genuine.
“Sounds like Amanda could use some therapy,” Jenna said.
Sawyer snorted. “I always thought so, but she was totally against it. When hell freezes over. That’s when Amanda Gentry would go to therapy. Well, guess what?”
Jenna stared at her. “Has hell frozen over?”
“Apparently.”
“Wow.”
“Right? Jesus.”
Jenna refilled their wine glasses, then put a lid partway on the pot and turned the heat down to a simmer. Taking the chair opposite Sawyer, she sat and held her stemless wine glass between both hands, her forearms on the table. “I’m sorry you’re going through this,” she said softly. “I wish I could help.”
Sawyer met her gaze across the table and smiled gently. “You are.”
Jenna smiled back and they stayed that way for a long moment. “So. How about we move to the living room and get more comfortable? The chili needs about twenty more minutes and then we can eat.”
Sawyer’s expression was uncertain. “Are you sure? I don’t mean to impinge on your Sunday evening.”
“You’re not impinging. You’re joining me. I was going to eat some chili and maybe watch a movie, and now you’re here to keep me company. Simple as that.”
Sawyer pushed her glasses up her nose and smiled, and Jenna was pretty sure she could see relief there on her smooth, expressive face. It was definitely there in those eyes. “Okay.”
“Go make yourself comfy. And fair warning: Cats will appear out of nowhere and want to lie on you. I have no control over that. I apologize in advance.”
Sawyer laughed as she stood and headed down the hall. “I will not complain about something furry that wants to snuggle with me.”
Jenna watched her retreat, wine in her hand, her blanket still wrapped around her shoulders. It was both amusing and sweet, and seeing Sawyer so casually in her space stirred something within her, something she wasn’t sure she wanted to acknowledge. Something she wasn’t sure she should acknowledge. Not just yet.
