Chapter
Forty-Six
Sawyer
Greg stole my lunch again. Initially it was annoying and now it ticked me off. I was called in early because one of my kids was in a standoff between the foster parents and police. The teen had stolen the family’s minivan, decided to go joyriding, and wrecked the car. It was only a fender bender, and no one was injured, but the family was distrustful of having the teen in their home again. After a two-hour heart to heart, we worked things out and the family said they would try to continue to foster the teen. I could understand their hesitation. As with everything involving situations similar to these, it was always a delicate balance of remembering that they were a teen but also that they were responsible for their actions.
I was exhausted. I hadn’t gotten to spend any time with Soren in the last week after he’d told me everything. I was getting pushed to intense limits at work. I hated that I was the only person that truly cared about these kids, but sometimes it seriously felt true. I needed a break. I needed to stop having coworkers that pushed all their extra work off on me. I needed my dang lunch. I was hungry and tired, but I needed to make it a couple more hours. Then I would clock out and turn on “Do Not Disturb” on my phone. I wanted to see Soren, but I was drained. I wasn't sure that it was going to be doable. I unloaded the files in my bag as I finally sat at my desk without my lunch. I hated having hunger pangs. It made me think of things I wanted to forget. What makes a thirty-five-year-old man steal his coworker’s lunch? I was leaving in two hours and I didn’t have time to go get lunch. I scrounged through my purse, hoping there was a crumbled granola bar at the bottom. There wasn’t, and I felt the disappointment acutely as Sharon made her way to my desk.
“Sawyer, honey, can you read these documents for me and tell me what they say? The font is just too small for my eyes.” And that was the story of how I left work four hours later instead of two.
By the time I arrived home, exhausted wasn’t even the right word to describe how I felt. I had a headache that felt as though it was rooted directly in the middle of my head. I wasn’t sure if it was from hunger or lack of hydration or from feeling overwhelmed all day. No doubt the sheer stress from dealing with my coworkers contributed to the already stressful job. I walked in and plopped everything down on the floor. Leaving a trail of the aftermath of me as I trudged to the kitchen. I grabbed the cold pitcher of water from the fridge, poured a cup, and reached for over-the-counter meds for my headache. This week sucked the life out of me. I felt like I was eighty-six instead of twenty-six. I had barely swallowed the capsules when my phone began ringing. Talia. Crap. I had forgotten about dinner tonight. There was no way I could function through something that social right now.
“Hey, Tal.” I answered.
“Hey, I wanted to see if you were going to be here soon?” she asked hopefully.
“Uhhh . . . I can’t make it. I’m sorry.” I could sense her disappointment in the pause.
“Ohh . . . something came up?” she asked.
“I’ve been working since four this morning with a disturbance. I still have a few reports to finish. I’m sorry.” Again, another pause. I was the worst friend, but I couldn’t imagine leaving my house at this point. My head pounded, and it was almost eight at night.
“Okay. I’ll talk to you later.” Her voice was heavy with disappointment.
“Are you mad at me?” Talia had never truly been mad at me.
“I guess I’m wondering if your job will always come first, but I already know the answer to that.” Her answer gutted me. I knew I missed things from time to time, but my job helped kids. I was making a difference. This was it. This was the moment that Talia didn’t stay. I knew it was too good to be true.
“I’m sorry if caring about kids inconveniences you,” I bit out, and I heard her catch her gasp. I knew it was unfair, because I’ve seen Rob and Talia go above and beyond volunteering at events and buying Christmas gifts for these same kids.
“Saw, you know that’s not fair. I really wanted you to be here tonight. But only if you want to be . . . look, I have to go. My family just walked in. Bye.”
I could hear the tears in her voice. I knew she hung up hurriedly because she was on the verge of a sob. Tears I put there. I was the worst person. This was why I was completely unlovable. It had been proven to me over and over again. It was a miracle that Talia stuck around as long as she did, but she had a family, and I wasn’t it. It was only a matter of time before Soren realized I wasn’t worth staying for, either. My hand shook as I lifted the cup to my parched lips. He’d see how broken I was and before long, he’d be gone too. My phone rang. Glancing down, I saw it was Soren.
“Hello.”
“Hey, Pretty Girl. How was your day?” I didn’t deserve him. I should distance myself now to save him the hassle.
“Uh okay.” My tone sounded defeated, even to my own ears.
“Just okay? Want to talk about it?” I could hear him getting ice in a glass. He must be coming in after a long day too.
“Not really.” I knew I sounded short.
“Fair enough. If you change your mind, I’m here. Are you getting ready to go to Talia’s?”
“No. It’s been a long day,” I clipped. The pain was too raw to talk about.
“Okay,” he drawled. Undeniably confused on why I was being snippy.
“I’ve been thinking, and this isn’t going to work,” I rushed out because I wouldn’t be able to say the words otherwise. The metal tags bit into my palm. I hadn’t even remembered reaching for them.
“What’s not going to work out?” He hesitated, sounding suddenly more serious. All background movement silenced as if he had stopped moving altogether.
“Us,” I clipped. I hated myself almost as much as he was going to hate me.
“Sawyer, is everything okay?” he asked slowly.
I didn’t deserve him. I was a fool to even think for a moment that I did.
“Yeah, I’ve decided I don’t want to do this,” I lied.
“‘Do this?’” he repeated, and I could hear his uneven breaths through the phone.
I stayed quiet. He knew what I meant.
“If this is because I pushed you too far, please tell me. I don’t want to lose us because it’s hard for you to tell people how you're feeling sometimes. Is this because of the things I told you?” I didn’t deserve him, and after what I was about to say, I never would.
“Look, Soren. This has nothing to do with what you told me. I’m done. I’ve decided to move on.” Silent tears dripped down my chin as my headache blazed. I would never let him think he was the cause.
“Can we talk about this in person?” he tried again.
“No, can’t you take a damn hint? I don’t want to date you.” He sucked in a breath. He has rarely heard me curse and never at him.
After the most excruciating pause in history, he responded, “Okay. I hope you find what you’re searching for.”
His voice was stiff. All emotion was gone, and I clicked the phone off as a sob tore through me as I hit my knees. I curled into a ball on my cold kitchen floor. I had ruined all the good things in my life in a matter of minutes. It was better to lose them this way than to see the good things walk out on me. It was inevitable. They would leave. I was only speeding up the process.