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“So it’s decided?”
I’m sipping my third glass of red wine, looking over Hayley Regan’s realtor portfolio. Her sales are amazing, and it seems every house sells within days once she places it on the market. A quick sale is exactly what I want.
Sam and I have spent the afternoon researching realtors. The market isn’t great at the moment, so we want to hire someone who knows the business well. We’ve also tiptoed around the topic of what we’re going to do with our possessions, including our joint bank account.
All in all, there is a lot to discuss.
Saxon has been MIA, not that I blame him. I know he feels uncomfortable with this arrangement, but the sooner we get this done, the sooner we can all move on with our lives. Sam and I have been civil toward the other, but the underlying tension between us still lingers.
“Yes, Hayley it is,” I reply while Sam sighs in relief.
“Great. I’ll make some calls and organize a face to face. Let me know what days suit you best.”
“Oh? We’re doing this together?” Sam pauses from drinking his Budweiser, which instantly has me kicking my own butt. “I just thought…”
“If we can’t manage to do a simple task such as this together, then we may as well quit now.” He gulps down his beer, clearly pissed off.
He’s right. I need to get over this hang-up and soldier on. “You’re right. Sorry, Sam. This is just all so…”
“Fucking weird.” Funny choice of words, considering Saxon used the very same ones. They are more alike than either care to admit.
“Yes.” I reach for my wine, finishing the last of it in one anxious sip. Sam leans forward and refills my glass. My desperation must show.
“I still can’t wrap my head around it, but I have to. It’s what you want.” He has another mouthful of beer, appearing to weigh what to say. “I can’t make you love me.” My heart contracts, and I lower my eyes. “I’m just sorry I forced you to stop.”
“Don’t.” I shake my head, the tears threatening to break free.
“I’m sorry. I really am trying.”
When I hear the tremble in his tone, I instinctively reach across the table and clasp his hand. “I know you are. This isn’t easy for any of us.” He squeezes my fingers, needing the comfort, and I don’t see the harm in offering that to him.
“Will you miss it?” When I pale, he smiles, just how he used to a lifetime ago. “I mean the house. I know how much you love it here.”
Honestly, I haven’t given it much thought, but glancing around the kitchen, the room which houses so many good memories, I know I will. “Yes. This was my first home.”
“We had some good times, didn’t we?”
“We did.” This trip down memory lane might do Sam some good. So he can realize this is really over. “I’ll miss it too. And you,” he adds apprehensively, gauging how I’ll react to his honesty.
I shouldn’t feel guilty. Sam will always be an integral part of my past. “I’ll miss you too.” But he’s holding my hand a little too tightly, and it feels wrong to be touching him for so long, so I gently slide it out from under his. The awkwardness returns, but I doubt it ever left.
Needing something to do, I turn my cell over to see that it’s a little past seven. Saxon hasn’t texted or called, and I have no idea where he is. Has he forgotten about our date? Knowing Saxon, he’s probably waiting for me, giving me the time I need to sort myself out.
Sam notices me looking at my screen. “Expecting a call?”
Flipping it back over, I nod. “Yes.” I don’t see the need to tell him who. But Sam has always been able to read me like a book.
“If you’re waiting on Saxon, I heard him on the phone with Sophia.”
“What?”I can’t keep the bite from my tone.
Sam nods, casually sipping his beer. “You were talking to Anna. I went outside to feed the horses and heard him having a heated discussion with her. From what I could tell, I think she was giving him a hard time.”
“Crap,” I curse, my stomach instantly twisting in knots.
“I didn’t want to eavesdrop, but he said something about her calling you a whore?” I bite my lip, never feeling more ashamed. “I’m pretty certain he was going over there to give her a piece of his mind. It didn’t sound pretty. He will probably be a while.”
Goddammit. Why didn’t he tell me?
