No. You’re supposed to be mine. Please don’t say yes.
“Anastasia?” Jack asks again. “I know it might seem sudden, but I’ve been thinking of nothing else since the moment I laid eyes on you, what feels like forever ago.”
I can’t look at anyone else. Can’t think about anything else. It might as well just be the three of us here while I watch everything I’ve ever wanted slip from my grasp—forever.
“I—” She trails off, and Jack’s expression darkens. “I’m sorry. I’m just not?—”
He gets to his feet and sets the ring box down on the table.
The entire room stays silent.
“Jack, I—” Anastasia starts, tears filling her eyes.
“It’s okay,” he replies flatly. “I need air.” And with that, he storms out of the house, leaving that tiny bomb sitting right on the table beside Anastasia. She stares at it as though it’s going to go off at any moment.
“Oh, baby,” Linda starts.
“No.” Anastasia jumps up and chases after him. “Jack!” she calls out as she slams the door behind her.
All eyes shift to me, as though every single person here is holding me personally responsible for what just happened.
“What?”
“What do you mean, ‘what’?” Tessa questions. Never one to sit on her opinion, she gestures toward the ring box.
“I don’t see what that has to do with me.”
Linda rolls her eyes. “Sawyer Maddox, you are going to be the death of me.”
When the door remains closed and the table falls back into a now very awkward conversation, I push up from my seat and start toward the door. Before I reach it, though, I hesitate.
She’s not going to want to see me.
I’m probably the last one she wants to talk to.
And then the image of her looking at me over his head swims into my mind.
“Go,” Linda urges.
“No, she needs you.”
“She has me, and she knows it. She needs her friend right now. She needs you.” Linda pushes me forward. “Go.”
So, I go.
Anastasia is sitting on a chair in the corner of her mom’s front porch. Even from here, in the dim light of the small porch light, I can see that she’s crying. I would rip the heart from my chest and give it to her if I thought it would make her feel even the slightest bit better.
“Are you okay?”
She looks over at me and pins me with a glare that is all anger and part brokenness. “Just perfect, Sawyer. So, what, we get to be friends now that I’ve imploded my relationship?”
I shove both hands into my pockets and shift nervously from foot to foot. Why did I come out here? “I’m just coming to check on you.”
“You haven’t given two thoughts to me in six months, Sawyer. You don’t get to just pop back into my life like you weren’t the first man to break my heart.” She gets to her feet and wipes her cheeks. “Please tell my mother that I’ll call her later. I have to try to salvage what’s left.” She starts down the steps, moving past me.
Without thinking, I reach out and grip her arm.
Anastasia stills beneath my touch, stiffening before looking up at me with hazel eyes I would love nothing more than to drown in.
