“Do you think Sawyer’s okay?” she asks, breaking the silence. “Is she still at their cottage?”
“I don’t know.”
“Maybe I should drive over there and check on her. I can use your mom’s car.”
“No.” The word comes out rougher than I mean it to.“Leave her alone.”
Ella looks at me, studying my face. “She shouldn’t be alone right now.”
“She doesn’t want to see us.” I close my eyes. “Trust me.”
“But—”
“Please, Ella. Just leave it.”
Her hand hovers over mine, and she waits for me to pull away. When I don’t, she takes it and leads me to the couch. “Come sit. You look exhausted.”
I let her guide me, too tired and in pain to do anything else. It should be time for my next dose of pain meds. Maybe they’ll help me sleep away this nightmare.
We sit in silence, her hand still in mine, but even so, there’s a palpable distance between us. It’s like we’re both here, but we’re not really present.
“I can’t believe he bought a ring,” I say finally, staring at the cover of my mother’s coffee table book. “Do you think she would have said yes?”
Her breath catches. “I don’t know. Yes. I think so.”
“Yeah,” I say with a sigh. “You’re probably right.”
Hopefully, they found it. The ring…on him. A wave of nausea creeps in at the thought. Why the fuck did I bring up the proposal anyway? Stupid.
“He was so excited.” Her voice is clogged with emotion. “He kept saying he wanted it to be perfect. It would have been perfect.”
“Yeah. Probably.”
She’s silent for a long moment. Then she stands abruptly, pulling her hand from mine. “I’m going to head up to bed. I’m sure you need some alone time.”
“Ella—”
“It’s okay.” She wipes at her eyes quickly. “I’m just tired. We’re both tired.”
She heads for the stairs without looking back.
I sit there alone for a while, staring at nothing, listening to the sounds of the house. It’s calming to know exactly what each one is. The fan, Ella’s steps from upstairs, the air conditioning kicking in. If I listen hard enough, I can hear the ice clinking around in my father’s glass.
It’s odd, knowing that everything’s the same here, yet entirely changed.
I should go upstairs, take some more pain meds and pass out.
But I stay on the couch a little longer, staring out at the dark water, imagining the cottage where Sawyer might be, wondering if she’s thinking about Owen…about the proposal that will never happen…about the future they’ll never have.
Or if any part of her is thinking about me.
I close my eyes and try to breathe through the pain, the unknown. If I hurt this much today, I can only imagine how tomorrow will be.
I don’t want to think about it.
Eventually, I drag myself upstairs. Ella’s already in bed, facing the wall. When she hears me, she turns over, sniffling and rubbing her eyes.
“Did I wake you?”
