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She’s right. “What if he doesn’t want to hear what I have to say?” I’m frightened he’ll throw it back in my face, punish me for finally revealing my feelings.
“Honey, listen to your heart. Tell him.”
Sniffing, I wipe my eyes. “Thanks, Mom. I hope you’re not disappointed in me.”
I can feel her gentle touch through the phone. “You could never disappoint me. You’re my miracle. You’re everyone’s miracle. Don’t forget that.”
Heavy footsteps thumping down the hallway have me quickly saying goodbye. I nervously sip my coffee as I stand behind the kitchen counter, using it as a shield. I don’t know what mood Saxon will be in, and I don’t fail to see the irony of that. Sam’s asshole role has now been filled by Saxon. When he stomps into the kitchen, I know he hasn’t had a hard time filling his shoes.
He doesn’t bother acknowledging me as he heads straight for the pot of coffee. He pours himself a cup before walking past me, and out the room, just as quickly as he entered.
Hellno.
“Saxon!” I cry out, chasing after him. When he doesn’t slow down, I sprint ahead of him and turn, placing a hand against his chest to stop him from taking another step. “What was that?”
“What was what?” he asks, blankly.
“Don’t play dumb. You know exactly what I’m talking about.”
“Lucy, if there is a point to this story, please get to it, otherwise, I’m going back to bed.” His vacant stare hurts more than his words.
“I thought we could talk. You’ve been gone for two days.”
“I’m sure Sam was more than happy to keep you company,” he barks, challenging me to dispute his claims.
“This isn’t about Sam, it’s about…”
He sniggers, shaking his head incredulously. “Thisisabout Sam. It’salwaysbeen about Sam.”
When he attempts to push past me, I stand my ground. Listening to my mom’s advice, I plead, “Talk to me, please. What does that mean?” I grip his t-shirt in a desperate fist, begging him to stop with the attitude and talk to me like an adult.
He slaps my hand away. “I’m done talking.”
I refuse to cry as I confess, “Saxon, I don’t want to lose you.”
I’m openly begging he at least listen to what I have to say. But I may as well be talking to a brick wall. “You can’t lose what you’ve never had.”
“Why are you being so cruel?” I whisper, my lower lip trembling.
He shrugs, the detachment complementing his words. “It seemed to work for Sam.” I turn my cheek, his contempt an invisible slap.
He doesn’t console me, or even look back as he walks to his room.
* * * * *
I’m working alongside Sam, but it’s not by choice.
After Saxon’s brush off, I decided to occupy my time with something other than him. Before Sam’s accident, we would spend hours outdoors, tending to life on the ranch. It was cathartic as well as rewarding, and I could do with both right now.
Sam is prepping, oiling, and checking the haying equipment to ensure it’s in good working order. Our first cut of hay will happen in the next couple of weeks, so he wants to be prepared. I’m checking over what seeding we have, as I want to begin leveling the ground.
We work in silence, but every so often, Sam looks over and smiles. I know he wants to make conversation, but after this morning, I think he’s nervous to initiate first contact. Weeks ago, I would have given anything for him to do so, but now, I just wish he would go away.
“So, I was thinking…” I gulp because this is how this morning’s conversation commenced. “Did you want to grab dinner tonight?”
A better proposition than sex, but still not inviting at all. “Dinner?” I vaguely say, continuing to look over my supplies so I can avoid eye contact. “I’m not really hungry.”
“It’s 1:30 in the afternoon,” he replies, not concealing his hurt.
