Page 37 of It's Always Been You

I roll my eyes and frown. “I’ll pass, thanks anyway. Love you.” Before he can say anything else to question every decision I’ve made lately, I quickly hit the end call button and put my phone back on the counter.

The box sitting on the coffee table steals my attention and I walk toward it. What could he possibly have in there that he wants me to see? I trail a finger over the cardboard, noting the damage that’s been done to it, and sigh. It would be easy to figure out what Dawson wants, all I’d have to do is rip the lid off this large thing and all my questions will be answered.

Opening it will only create more questions though and I’m not sure I have room in my brain for more of those. I pick it up, intending to put it in my spare room and am surprised at the weight of it. This only piques my interest more. Now I’m itching to see what’s inside.

I snatch a piece of paper from the desk in my room and clutch a pen in my hand, my tongue darting out over my lip as I write a simple note for Dawson. I’ll just tell him I can’t open it and hope that he’ll understand, possibly leave the city and go back to Maple Creek without me. It doesn’t matter that I’ve been aching without him near after becoming used to his presence, but there’s no way I can put my heart in jeopardy again.

Once I have the note written out, I grab a piece of tape and stick the paper onto the lid before carrying the box over to the door. Something is telling me to look inside, that it will help me, but the part that’s been hurt is begging me to let it go – and that’s the one I listen to.

Contrary to what I told Dawson, I don’t actually have to work today. Instead of doing the cleaning that desperately needs to be done, I recline back on the couch and flip through my list of streaming services. I’ve wallowed in my sadness by watching everything romance the last few weeks and I roll my eyes at the movies I’ve already watched popping up.

There’s nothing new. That’s great.

Maybe I should shake it up and watch the complete opposite kind of movie. I scroll to the categories section on Netflix andfind horror, clicking it with a smile on my face. There’s nothing like a little scare to get your heart racing.

Two movies later and I’m raising my arms above my head, the box catching my attention again. I need to take this to wherever Dawson is staying and I’m willing to bet one of his messages contains the address. After a quick glance at his messages, I smirk when I see the one I’m looking for and save it into my phone. The hotel he’s staying at is only a few blocks away, but since I’ve got this big box, my car is probably the best transportation right now.

When I come to a stop outside Dawson’s room, I bite my bottom lip while contemplating if I should knock or just put the box on the floor. Will it help the situation if I tell him to his face that I want nothing to do with what’s in the box or it could make everything worse than it already is? My eyes sting with tears at the thought of saying goodbye to him, but I take a deep breath to hold them back.

I finally tap my knuckle against the door and wait patiently with the box in my arms. If I’m going to do this, I need to be strong and do it face to face. After a few minutes without an answer, I try one more time, a little louder and glance down the hall in both directions.

He probably went exploring.

My arms cry out in relief when I set the box on the floor and I turn away from the door, my steps quick as I head back toward the elevator. Tears are threatening to fall with each step I takeaway from my past and what could’ve been my future, and with one last look at the box, I close my eyes before the elevator doors shut and make my descent to the lobby.

You’re making the wrong choice, Savanna. Turn around.

Don’t turn around, it will only end in more heartache.

The last voice is who I listen to as I push through the exit and back outside, my headlights shining on me as I unlock the car. As soon as I slip into the front seat, I let the tears fall and my shoulders shake with sobs.

Would it have killed me to know what Dawson needed to see? He asked me to trust him and I couldn’t do it. I’m filled with regret at this realization and almost jump out of the car to retrieve the box, but the sight of Dawson walking through the doors has me frozen in place.

I should’ve listened to the first voice.

I’ve spent all these years focusing so much on the choice Dawson made as a teenager that it blinded to the man he’s become. With a heavy heart, I pull away from the hotel and head back toward my house – all while sending a silent prayer that Dawson will come back to me.

This time I’ll hear him out.

Even if it terrifies me, I’m going to listen to my brother and not let fear dictate how I live my life.

Did I screw it up by leaving Dawson that note?

I guess you’ll find out soon enough, Sav.

Chapter Twenty-Two

Dawson

Ifigured I’d get a feel of the city while I gave Savanna some time to process all the letters I wrote her – assuming she actually read any of them. If I need to move here to be with her, then that’s what I’m willing to do. The first stop I made was to the Chicago PD and asked if they had any applications for their police department – which is what I have rolled up in the pocket of my jacket – and after that I tried hitting a few spots that seemed to be more populated than others.

Although I prefer Maple Creek, living here wouldn’t be so bad if it meant spending my life with Savanna. I wave to the receptionist of the hotel as I make my way toward the elevator, making sure to keep it open for anyone else before stepping back and leaning against the wall. A few people get off on floors before me until finally I step off but I come to a halt as soon as I look ahead.

Right there, sitting in front of my hotel room, is the box I had given Savanna to look through. There’s a piece of paper taped to the top, her handwriting printed neatly on it, and I slowly lift it up before unlocking my door and pushing it open. I immediately tear the paper off, eyeing the words on it with a frown.

She didn’t read them?

This isn’t going to work out unless she reads them.

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