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The footage ends as Sam and I walk hand in hand to his old pickup, my dad mumbling, “He better take good care of my girl.”
And he did.
He has ever since.
Ten
I wake with a start,convinced someone is watching me.
Jolting upright, my foggy brain takes a moment to process where I am. The familiar surroundings calm my racing heart and I groggily remember falling asleep while watching my home movies. Brushing the hair from my face, I see that it’s peaking on dusk and the room is lit up by the gentle glow coming from the TV.
I rub the sleep from my eyes with the heels of my hands, but screech when the light flicks on, startling me.
“You do realize you snore like a freight train, right?”
“Saxon?” I almost tumble off the couch when I see him leaning against the doorjamb, arms and ankles crossed.
He pushes off the frame with a lopsided smirk. “Don’t look so surprised. I told you I’d be back. I’m starving. What’s for dinner?”
I dig at my eyes one more time just in case they deceive me, but nope, there he is, standing in my living room, all six foot four of him. Taking in his dusty jeans and boots, and windswept hair, I dare say he just rode in.
“It’s okay that I came back, right?” Saxon asks, breaking my impolite gawking.
“Yes, yes, sorry, Saxon.” I leap up, straightening out my clothes sheepishly. “I’m not a morning person.”
Looking down at his watch, he smirks. “It’s 6:07p.m.” I can’t help but smile. It’s good to have him back.
Judging by the large duffle strapped to his back, I dare say he’ll be staying a while. A sense of comfort wraps around me and I suddenly feel more optimistic than I did earlier. I don’t know why, but Saxon, he levels me.
I know how that sounds, considering I barely know him, but he feels so familiar. Even though he annoys the living hell out of me at times, I like that he challenges me and I can be myself around him.
“I haven’t even thought about food. Is there anything you’d like to eat?” I reply, addressing his earlier question as I’m still staring at him from across the room.
“Pizza,” a voice announces from behind Saxon.
Sam.
When he comes into view, bumping Saxon with his shoulder playfully as he walks past. I can’t help but smile at his sleep riddled hair and crumpled clothes. He looks adorable. Sadly, when he fixes his eyes on the TV and sees footage of us swimming in Bali, he turns from cuddly to killer in seconds.
“What’s this?”
“It’s us on our five year anniversary,” I explain, twisting my hands in front of me as his face falls blank. “We’re in Bali.”
“Bali? Why the hell were we there?” he asks, not hiding his disgust as he watches us frolic happily in the crystal blue waters. Unlike now.
I meet Saxon’s aggravated stare over Sam’s shoulder. He folds his arms over his chest, unimpressed. “I was over there for work, and after I was done, you flew over. It was your idea to celebrate our anniversary over there.”
He scoffs. “I doubt I would ever suggest going over to that poor, filthy shithole.”
I take great offense, as Bali is one of my favorite places in the world. The people over there are so generous, so happy, and yes, it may be a third world country, but it’s a beautiful country nonetheless.
Sam slumps onto the sofa and watches the plasma intently while I repress my anger. He may not remember it, but this did happen—the proof is right in front of him. And he had fun. We both did. We all watch in silence, our eyes fixated on the TV.
“And what work?” Sam asks a moment later, turning to look at me smugly. “Please don’t tell me you’re a mail order bride. That explains a lot if you are.” He turns back around, an arrogant smirk on his cheeks.
My mouth pops open. “Excuseme?”
“I’m kidding,” he amends, but I don’t actually know if he is.
