The Magic of Light

Chapter

Thirty-Seven

Soren

I pulled the brown paper bag out and held it so Sawyer could select a cookie after we settled at the table in the corner of the gym.

“Real talk. What made you want to punch something today?” I asked as I leaned back and settled into my seat. What Sawyer didn’t know was I had some questions, and she was not leaving until I got answers. She had circles of exhaustion under her eyes the last two times I’d seen her and I wanted to know why. She bit her lip. One hand held a cookie and the other reached to pull the military tags out of her shirt. She took a deep breath before starting.

“Sometimes I feel like I can’t do enough to help kids. Like no matter what I do, it isn’t enough. Realistically, I know I’m helping, but I wonder sometimes if it really makes a difference. It’s overwhelming sometimes. I mean it always has been, but lately it feels like an uphill battle.”

“What parts feel most overwhelming?” I asked. She bobbed her head from side to side in consideration as she chewed another bite.

“The monumental weight of the issues. It’s not something that can be fixed with one law or one regulation change. Essentially, you’re a hamster on a wheel with no end in sight. Sometimes . . . ” She paused and broke off a piece of cookie. I waited. Her eyes were wet with unshed tears, but she wasn’t looking at me. She set her cookie on a napkin.

“Can we talk about this but you don’t look at me?” She peeked a glance at me. Her cheeks flushed. She steadily rubbed at the tags.

“Sure.” I stood, lifted my chair, flipped it around, and straddled it.

“This good?” I asked as I faced away from her.

“Yeah,” she replied, and I swore I heard her mumble, “I’m such a freak.”

“Sometimes, I don’t function well when I get home from a hard day.” She hesitated, but I waited. “This is embarrassing to say, but most of the days that are rough end with me under my weighted blankets unable to move, and sometimes I think about what Talia said to me.”

“What did Talia say?” I knew she’d been under too much pressure. I could see it in her eyes these last couple of weeks.

“That maybe working in this career field might not be healthy for me because it’s so personal. Maybe I’m addicted to the chaos of the way I grew up, the adrenaline rush of it all. I know I want to help kids, but maybe this isn’t the best place for me to do that.”

“Do you think that maybe she could be right?” She paused so long that I almost thought she wouldn’t continue.

“Sometimes. It feels wrong to know there’s so much suffering in the world and not do anything about it.” Her heart sounded broken simply by giving a voice to the emotions.

“What if ‘doing something’ looks different from what you thought it did?” I asked. She paused again as if she was thinking.

“I feel like it consumes my life. I don’t have a life outside of it, but it’s all I’ve done for six years since I graduated early. It’s all I’ve ever wanted to do. I feel stuck between wanting to make a difference and also not wanting my life to pass me by, especially now that I get to choose what my life looks like.” Her voice was barely a whisper.

“Can I turn around?” I asked, desperate to see her face.

My hand gripped the back of the chair, making my knuckles turn white. I could barely stand not touching her.

“Yes.” Her voice was small.

I flipped around to face her, my elbows on my knees, and I reached a hand out palm up.

She placed her smaller one in mine. She was learning to trust me, and my heart wanted to sprout wings and soar.

“Thank you for telling me. How about this? Until you figure out what the best path is moving forward, any time you have a rough day, you call me. I can listen, and then I’ll find something for you to punch,” I promise.

One corner of her mouth tugged up in a smile.

“You’re not going to tell me what to do?” Her voice was incredulous.

“No, Sawyer. You are the bravest and smartest person I know. You will know the answer when it’s time.”

She studied my face, searching for what I wasn’t sure. I stood and pulled her into a hug. Her curves melted into my body as she shifted to burrow closer. Her head on my heart.

“Okay,” she whispered. I pulled back and clasped her soft face in my hands where I could see her eyes.

“Do we have a deal that you’ll call me on the hard days?” I didn’t want her carrying this alone.

She nodded.

“Words.” Because I knew she’d worry about “bothering” me, which wasn’t possible.

“Yes, Cowboy. We have a deal,” she agreed.

She didn’t call me this often, but when she did, it made my heart skip a beat. I did the most impulsive thing I had in this relationship and pressed my lips to her soft forehead. This beautiful, smart, and brave woman was going to be my undoing. I heard her quick intake of breath before I wrapped my arms around her again. Where she was concerned, I was never letting her go.