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I wake to an empty bed.
After we decided we could all cohabitate, I officially moved into the guest bedroom with Saxon. I tried to ignore the weirdness that Sam’s room, our old bedroom, was just down the hall because if we were doing this, then we had to act as normal as we could.
After moving in a few things, I was spent, and my afternoon nap turned into a full-blown siesta. Reaching for my cell off the nightstand, I see that it’s just after eleven p.m. The untouched space beside me indicates I have once again slept alone.
I know Saxon is still angry with me, and I have no doubt our arrangement will take some getting used to. But I can only hope that now we’ve reached a compromise, we can attempt to live under the same roof. I know it’s a lot to ask, but I have to try.
Stretching, I decide to find Saxon because I want to ensure he’s all right. He was awfully quiet when I was unpacking my things. I just figured he was deep in thought, but the fact he’s MIA has me thinking there’s something more.
I tiptoe down the dark hallway, no lights or gentle hue from the TV shining to light my path. The house feels empty, and I wonder if maybe I’m alone. I wouldn’t blame them if they needed to get out and clear their heads. Our lives have been thrown into turmoil, and everything has changed.
Just as I turn to enter the kitchen, I see an ember glow brightly from the front porch. My heart skips a beat, excited that he’s still here. Opening the front door, I peer around the doorjamb to find Saxon sitting in the rocking chair, lost in thought.
He takes a drag from a cigarette, his gaze focused ahead. I suddenly feel like I’m encroaching on a private moment, so I take a step backward to go back inside. But he’s already aware of my presence. “Hey.”
I’m thankful he’s still speaking to me. “Hey.” I close the door behind me, the wooden deck creaking beneath my bare feet as I take a seat in the matching chair beside Saxon.
When I lay eyes on the sight before me, I can see why Saxon seems so spellbound by the horizon. It’s so beautiful out here. Our land extends for miles, and on still, quiet evenings such as tonight, one can be forgiven for believing they’re the only being to exist.
I really will miss this place. It’s been my home for so long. But home is where the heart is, and my heart is sitting beside me. “Are you still mad at me?” I don’t see the point in sugarcoating it.
A heavy sigh leaves him as he continues staring ahead. I won’t push. I’ve done enough of that today. “No, I’m not mad,” he finally replies, taking a hit of nicotine.
“Then why won’t you look at me?” Actions speak a lot louder than words, and right now, I’m locked out in the cold. I’ll give him all the time he needs because he did the same for me.
The waiting is making me nervous, though, so I help myself to his packet of Marlboros sitting on the arm of his chair. I can count how many cigarettes I’ve ever smoked on one hand, but desperate times call for desperate measures, and I need something to do with my hands.
The moment I inhale, I cough loudly, but the nicotine calms the nerves. Saxon finally makes eye contact, and when he does, I feel like I can breathe again even though I’m wheezing through a nicotine cloud. “How about you leave the bad stuff to me?”
When he reaches for my smoke, I evade his advances and puff harder. “I know you think I’m a good girl, but I’m not.”
A grin tugs at his lips. “Oh, I know you can be bad, but you can’t help being good, Lucy. It’s who you are.”
There is a double meaning behind his words, and I have no doubt he’s talking about today. “What was I supposed to do? Kick him out of his own house? Throw him out on the streets?”
He scoffs, his mood instantly souring. “He’d hardly be on the streets.”
“Living with your mom is just as bad. Maybe even worse. You know that,” I counter. I put out the smoke because it’s making me queasier than I already feel. So much for living on the wild side.
He rocks backward and forward, finishing his cigarette before he speaks again. “I don’t trust him. He’s working an angle.”
“What?” I question, incredulous. “You’re just being paranoid. I don’t blame you,” I quickly add when he reaches for another smoke.
He lights it, takes a hit, and blows out a puff of smoke. “He gave up too quickly. I know my brother. Something is up.”
“Maybe he just wants to move on like we do?” I offer, not wanting to believe there’s any truth to what Saxon says.
But of course, he disagrees. “You always see the good in people.”
“Because I refuse to live in a world where all I focus on is the bad. I lived that life, and it was fucking horrible. I’ll never go back there again.”
“That’s where you and I differ. I’m a realist while you…” He soon seals his lips shut when I turn in my chair, raising a brow.
“I’m a what? A dreamer? A hopeless romantic who wants her happily ever after?” I bite, my temper rising to the surface.
“I don’t want to argue. Not over him.” He runs a hand through his hair while I can’t mask my horror.
“Him?Heis your brother, in case you’ve forgotten.” I shoot up, the chair rocking with the momentum. “The person you told me to go to. You do remember that, don’t you? In the barn, you told me to go after him because you would never forgive yourself if he hurt himself because of us.”
