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“I can’t believe all this fit into the closet.”
He reaches for a fluffy red sweater with a reindeer print and cocks an amused brow. “Yes, neither can I.”
Chuckling, I snatch the garment from his judgmental hands. “Hey, don’t mock the sweater. It was from a Kris Kringle.” I didn’t have the heart to throw it out because it’s the thought that counts.
However, Sam doesn’t seem to share my sentiment. “That person clearly hates you,” he jabs, smirking when I gasp in mock horror. I’m not even halfway through packing my things, so I decide to start a keep and a toss pile. I have no idea where I’m moving to, so it’s probably wise I pack light.
“How did you decide what to keep? And what to donate to Goodwill?” I blow the hair from my cheeks. This is going to take all night.
Sam leans forward, picking out a pair of hideous fluffy boots. “Well, for starters, I tossed anything that looked like a baby orangutan.”
I burst into laughter, blushing, as this early 2000’s fashion must-have was hot at the time. “I got those on sale.” I attempt to defend my impulse buy.
“I can see why,” he counters, chuckling hoarsely. “Let’s put this in the Goodwill pile.” He pitches them over his shoulder without a second thought. There isn’t a hint of animosity between us, and even though this calm is at the expense of my very questionable fashion choices, I don’t mind.
When Sam sets his sights on a denim jacket decorated with badges, I beat him to the chase. “That’s definitely staying in the keep pile.” I finger the jacket, the material bringing back many wonderful memories. “I wore that—”
“On our first date,” he finishes for me. “I remember.” The calmness I once spoke of suddenly turns sour. I regret saying anything, but Sam smiles, appearing lost in a private moment in time. “You were so nervous. But so was I.” He skates his finger along the rim of his mug. “I was sure you’d call bullshit, and I’d have to come clean. I should have,” he adds, his eyes lowered. “I really am sorry, Lucy.”
“It’s okay.” And for once, it really is. “I thought we agreed to leave things in the past.”
“We did, I just feel really shitty for doing what I did,” he confesses, risking a glance my way.
But I refuse to ruin our newfound resolution by talking about something we agreed to leave behind. “Well, you should.” He pulls back, an unsure smile tugging at his lips. “We can discuss this until the cows come home, but I’m done. Let’s focus on the future and look forward to the new memories we have yet to make.”
When Sam nods slowly, my heart dislodges from my throat. “You were always the smart one.” I laugh, not seeing the point in arguing.
We sort through my clothes in silence, that is, until the doorbell rings. I’m not expecting company, but when Sam clears his throat and stands, it’s apparent that he is. “I hope you don’t mind. I invited someone over.”
“Of course, I don’t mind.” However, when he stands rigid, making no attempt to move, I begin to think my attitude may change when I see whoever is at the door. The doorbell rings once again, longer this time, alerting Sam that his visitor has no intention of leaving anytime soon.
“Cool. I’ll be right back.” I nod, busying myself with my clothes and ignoring his sudden mood shift.
As I’m folding the clothes in the keep mountain into tidy piles, my phone vibrates in my back pocket. I quickly reach for it. When I see the caller is Saxon, I forget the strange past thirty seconds and only focus on the now. “I miss you. I love you. Where have you been? Oh, hi. Did I mention I miss you?” I spit out in a rushed breath.
I’m rewarded with a deep, husky chuckle which inflames my body from head to toe. “Hello to you too. Sorry I missed your calls. Everything all right?”
“It is now,” I reply, closing my eyes and basking in his voice. Oh, how I’ve missed it. How I’ve missed him. “How are you?”
“I’m okay. Just busy at work. How are things with you?” The edge of his tone reveals he’s anxious as this can swing either way.
Looking at the mess in front of me, I shrug. “I’m packing.”
“Oh?”
“Yeah, Sam has packed all his clothes. He left some boxes for me, so here I am, sitting in my old room, packing up my life into two piles.” My attention flits back and forth between the keep and donate pile, and from out of nowhere, I’m struck with an epiphany. I can’t believe I didn’t see it earlier. “But you know what? I don’t want any of it.” Rising to both knees, I sweep the two piles into one huge foothill. “I don’t need any of it because as long as I have my toothbrush, a clean pair of underwear, and my cowboy boots, I can figure the rest out as I go.”
A surge of vibrancy swathes me as everything seems to be falling into place.
“I’d like to see you in that attire any day,” he teases, warming every inch of my flesh.
“Well, come here, and I’ll happily show you.” His silence hints that suggestion is not on the cards. I hate this distance between us, and I’m not just talking the physical miles. Deciding to speak first and think later, I confess, “Sam and I spoke… he’s happy for me. He’s happy for us.” I wait for a reaction, but I get nothing in return. So I fill in the blanks. “He’s accepted that I’m with you now. And Iamwith you, Saxon. I know coming here doesn’t seem that way, but my heart is back in Oregon…with you.”
The tension leaves me breathless, and I nervously chew the inside of my cheek, waiting for Saxon to say something, anything.
“He said that?”
“Yes,” I reply, a little too enthusiastically. But this response is better than him saying Sam is full of shit. “He said if you’re the person who makes me happy, then he supports me. He’s sorry for everything. I know sorry isn’t enough…but it’s a start.” I’m playing with fire, but if I don’t tell him how I feel, I’m afraid it’ll just be Groundhog Day for years to come.
