Page 34 of Crossed Lines

“You too. Hope you had a good day at the pool,” I say.

“We did,” Willow answers. “Thanks again for lunch.”

“Wow, you get paid and get free lunch?” Sawyer asks. “Lucky. I wish my boss did that.”

“You’re self-employed,” Willow says.

“Exactly.”

“You’re an idiot.”

I chuckle at their exchange. I remember when she was just starting her teenage years, there were several occasions where the two of them were screaming at each other in an attempt to understand their frustration and grief. I’m glad they’ve moved past that. Both of them have become the best versions of themselves, at least in my opinion, and I think they’ll only get better from here.

“Ok, well, we’re gonna go dance. Try not to ruin our night,” Willow says, grabbing Macy’s hand and heading toward the dance floor.

Sawyer laughs. “I swear, that kid.”

Before I can stop myself, I say, “She’s not really a kid.” It feels important for me to say that out loud.

“I know she’s technically an adult. But she’ll always be a kid to us,” Sawyer says.

To us.

Not to me. I swallow down the words, not wanting to start anything with him tonight. Not when I know it’s not going to matter in the grand scheme of things. Willow is leaving, and I’m sure as hell not going to be the one to mess up her life.

“Yeah,” I agree quietly.

“Should we get a drink?” he asks but doesn’t wait for me to answer before making his way to the bar.

Drinks in hand, we find a decent spot to sit and people-watch. It also gives me a perfect view of Willow. Her head is thrown back in laughter, and I can’t help but smile. Her joy is contagious. Ever since she’s been back, I haven’t seen her be upset once. She’s always smiling, always positive. But I guess she’s always kind of been like that. Everything life has thrown at her, she’s always come out on top. Smiling. Living. Being herself.

I admire her. I wish I could be like that. Maybe at one time I was. But growing up is not always easy, and sometimes it’s hard to find the silver lining again.

Sawyer starts telling me about his week. I listen, keeping my head angled in a way that I can still see Willow. It looks like she’s trying to teach Macy a line dance, but every few steps, Willow winces, so I can only assume Macy is stepping on her toes.

All eyes are on them.

Ok, maybe not all eyes, but enough to make me sure that someone is going to shoot their shot. I’m proven right not even one song later when my own stable hand, Ace, approaches Willow.

That little shit. I should’ve warned him off her the first time he asked me about her, but I was trying to suppress what I was feeling and blew him off.

I watch as he reintroduces himself to her and then falls into step next to them. It’s hard to talk over the music, but Ace tries his hardest. Willow smiles and nods. She has to lean in to answer him a few times, and I stiffen when I notice his hand wrap around her waist.

I breathe in through my nose and out through my mouth and remind myself that it’s none of my business. This is what I wanted. For her to live her life and not be hung up on me.

But the longer his hand stays on her hip, the more upset I get.

Why is he touching her?

Why is she letting him?

Did she come here tonight hoping to hook up with someone?

One thing I know for sure is that I shouldn’t have come here tonight.

I don’t know how much time passes before they finally walk off the dance floor, Macy heading toward the bar with Ace and Willow to the back hall where the bathrooms are.

Someone Sawyer knows has joined our table, so I’m able to quickly excuse myself and follow Willow down the hall. I realize from an outside perspective, I might look like a fucking creep, but I need to talk to her.