I looked up.
He wasn't being sharp about it. That wasn't Forrest. He was just sitting there with his coffee and his quiet, saying the true thing the way he always had—the one sentence, after letting Emmett run, that everyone remembered.
"I'm protecting her," I said.
"From what?"
"From making a decision she'll regret when the career takes off and she's?—"
"Sawyer." He set his mug down. "I'm going to say something and I need you to actually hear it."
I waited.
He looked at the paddock for a moment. At Bishop, still stubbornly pointed away. At the mist sitting low over the fence line, the cedar dark behind it.
"I knew Sophie was it for me," he said. "Third week of school. We were in a studio critique and she took apart my entire project in front of the class, and I sat there thinking, that's the person Iwant in my corner for the rest of my life." He picked up his mug again. Held it without drinking. "I didn't tell her for four months. Thought I'd wait until I was sure. Thought I'd wait until it made sense, until the timing was better, until I had something more to offer." He paused. "I would do anything to have those four months back.”
The mockingbird went quiet.
"I know it's not the same thing," he said. "I'm not saying it's the same thing. But you're sitting here deciding what Daniela wants before you've asked her, and you're calling it protecting her, and I just—" He stopped. Looked at me directly. "You don't get to decide what's too much for her. That's not protecting someone. That's just being afraid.”
I scowled at him. “I thought I was supposed to be the one passing my wisdom on toyou.Big brother privileges and all that.”
He shrugged one shoulder. “Losing the woman you love changes you.” He met my eyes. “I don't want that to happen to you.”
“So what do you expect me to do about it?” I frowned. “I mean…what I feel doesn't change anything about the situation. She's still gonna be a big deal. Still gonna need to travel. And the industry's changing, but…being single helps her brand, even if it's gross. I've been around enough Hollywood folks to know that.”
Even as I said it, it hurt. I didn't want her using that, feeling obligated to flirt. This whole time, I'd been able to sense her finally letting her walls down, dropping the mask…
I didn't want it to just be a blip, not just a moment.
I wanted her forever.
“Think you just answered your own question,” Forrest said.
“I didn't.” I reached up to rub my eyes. “I have no fucking idea what to do. How to tell her without scaring her off.”
“What do you want to say that's so scary?” Forrest said with a soft laugh. “She's in your bed every night, Sawyer.”
"Was," I said. "Shewasin my bed every night."
Forrest looked at me.
"She's been gonefour days," he said. “You're being dramatic.”
"I know how long she's been gone."
He let that sit for a second. "So what's actually scaring you."
I looked at the paddock. Bishop still faced away, still pulling grass.
"I'm going to be on that set every day," I said. "Same as New Mexico. And if I say something—if I push for something real and it goes sideways—that's not just us. That's her working relationship with Ellis. That's five months of a shoot she's been building toward her whole career." I shook my head. "If I blow this up for her, she doesn't get it back."
Forrest was quiet for a moment.
"You're doing it again," he said.
"Doing what."
