Page 114 of Saylor


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g my hand over my face, I ask, “Did you ever see the message I sent to your original Birds and Bees account?”

She shakes her head at the same moment Grady’s bare feet pad across the hardwood floor, demanding my attention.

“Hey, Dad?” he croaks, his hair mussed up as he peeks around the corner.

I nudge her phone that’s lying on the kitchen counter closer to her. “Why don’t you take a look while I put Grady to bed?” Then, I leave her alone with the most embarrassing message I’ve ever sent, praying it’ll be enough to convince her that I’m the real deal, and I’d choose her and Grady over any opportunity in the world.

29

Saylor

Hey, Say.

I’ve left you alone because I felt like you didn’t want to hear from my sorry ass after everything that happened between us. Everything I put you through. I’ve tried to reach out more times than I can count, but I always end up deleting the messages before hitting send.

First, you probably want to know why I ended things. It’s complicated and doesn’t even really matter anymore, but I think you want an explanation, and I think you deserve it too.

However, before you keep reading this, I need you to promise me that you won’t be mad at your dad. Please? I can’t stand the idea of causing a rift between you and him. He’s your rock, Say. And he’s a good guy. He just wants what’s best for you. That’s all he’s ever wanted. I guess what I’m saying is…if you continue to read this message, then you’re agreeing not to kill your father. Okay?

Good.

The week before graduation, I bought a promise ring and asked your dad for his permission to give it to you. Your dad asked me to choose between you and football. I chose you. But then your dad made me stop and think about it. He pointed out the fact that we were young. That we had our whole lives ahead of us. That if we stayed together, we’d always be tied down, and we wouldn’t get to spread our wings and shit. He asked if I ever looked back on my life and didn’t go to school to play football…would I have regretted it? And I couldn’t answer his question, Saylor. Because I didn’t know. I couldn’t tell the future. But I was the football prodigy, ya know? I was invited to all the camps. I had interviews with big-name reporters that loved to speculate about my future even though I was in HIGH SCHOOL. How crazy was that? And I wanted to know what I could do.

But I wanted to know what you could do too. Without me steering the ship of our future. I wanted to see you use that big brain of yours. I wanted to see you use your heart to its fullest potential. I wanted to see you become the badass I know you are, and I was afraid you couldn’t do that if you were too busy worrying about my dreams.

Your profile says you’re a teacher. That’s perfect, Say. It suits you. You’ve always had the patience of a saint, though I know I used up the last of it.

I want you to know that I’m not blaming your dad for my decision, Saylor. But he made a lot of good points that made me question whether or not our futures were too different to stay connected. I knew you’d pick my career in football over your dreams, and that broke me. I’ve analyzed my conversation with your dad a thousand times, along with my decision and the way I ended things, and I’m still not sure how I could’ve fixed it.

I DO know that I should’ve been stronger. I should’ve recognized that what we had might not have been the norm, but that it was promising. It was still worth fighting for. And I’ll regret that moment for the rest of my life.

After how everything went down, I felt like you deserved a chance to move on and experience life without me. I can lie and say I’m doing okay, but that’s all it is––a giant-ass lie. I haven’t been okay since the moment I left. But I got used to it. Hell, I accepted your absence like a masochist because I thought you were better off without me.

Then I found this account. And seeing you like this? On a dating app? Trying to find your one and only? It’s unbearable. Because I’M your one and only, aren’t I?

The idea of you with someone else is so unbearable that I’m drunk off my ass, sick to my stomach at the idea of someone claiming you the way that you claimed me a long time ago. I want you to know that it’s always been you. That my life looks pretty great on paper, but none of it means anything without you in it. And I’m tired of accepting your absence.

I know a lot has changed since I left. I have a kid. You probably know that. And I love him, Say. You’d love him too. I don’t regret having him, but I do regret that he isn’t yours. I’d give anything to have babies with you, Say. To build the dream we dreamt about. Together. The idea of you doing it with someone else…it guts me, Say. I can’t take it.

So, I quit today. Just walked in and quit. Like I said, it’s not because I don’t love my job. It’s because I love you more. And I’m tired of pushing you away, telling myself that we were too young, that you deserved more, that you deserved time to figure your life out and to build your own dreams instead of having each of them revolving around me.

I still want you to have your own dreams, don’t get me wrong, but I want to be part of them now. Hell, I’ll be second to them as long as I get to kiss you in the morning and breathe you in at night. I know I’m drunk off my ass and that I’m probably rambling right now. Hell, this might not even make sense when you read it. But I’m done deleting these messages. I’m done sweeping how I feel for you under the rug.

If you take anything from this long-ass message, it’s this. I’m coming for you, Saylor Swenson. And I won’t ever leave your side unless you beg me to. But even then, it’ll be like living without a heart. Because that’s what you are. You’re my heart, Say. I love you.

-Owen

PS-Take down that bikini picture right now. It’s killing me.

PPS-Grady’s going to adore you just like I do.

I wipe the tears from my cheeks and look up from my phone. Owen’s resting his shoulder against the doorjamb to the kitchen. Watching me. Assessing me. Analyzing every minor facial expression in hopes of reading my mind.

But he doesn’t need to.

“You were right,” I mention. “This is a long-ass message.”

He laughs. “I guess I had a lot to say.”

Source: www.allfreenovel.com
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