Chapter 22
CHAPTER
TWENTY-TWO
PRESTON
After Sawyer leaves for work this morning, I pull out my tablet and try to work on my AI algorithm. I stare at it blankly as the letters and numbers blur together on the screen and I give up after an hour.
My face still hurts. Not as much as it did a couple days ago, but if I move too suddenly, or hold my head in the wrong position, the space behind my eyes and nose throbs painfully.
I try to sleep, but sleep doesn’t come. I turn on the TV, but the light hurts my eyes.
I wander the apartment, counting my steps as I go from room to room to room.
I keep replaying Thanksgiving. The conversation with Mrs. Paige where she claimed my parents just want me to be happy.
Getting hit in the face with the football.
Sawyer telling me he loves me while we’re huddled around the toilet.
Breakfast the next morning when Madison said I need to stand up to my dad.
I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with all that. It’s all people stuff, emotional stuff, stuff I’ve never been good at. It’s stuff I’ve always ignored or went along with, or let other people take care of. But I don’t think I can anymore.
I told Madison and Sawyer I’m not a child, that I can handle the difficult things they’ve always tried to shield me from.
Except the truth is, I don’t know if I can handle it.
It’s all so much and so big. It’s so nebulous and ephemeral.
There’s no way to quantify it or measure it.
It doesn’t follow a prescribed set of rules.
It scares me. People stuff. Emotional stuff. It scares me.
All I want is to crawl back into the safe little space Sawyer’s created for me, where I know he will protect me from everything. He would do it too, in a heartbeat, and without question. He would go on taking care of me the way he’s always done… because he loves me.
Sawyer loves me.
And I don’t deserve it.
Despite all the wonderful things he said about me while sitting on the bathroom floor, the truth is, I don’t bring anything to this relationship.
Sawyer makes sure our apartment is cleaned, the bills are paid, and there’s food in the fridge.
He arranges for the laundromat to pick up my dirty clothes and drop them off again when they’re clean.
He reminds me to eat, sleep, shower. He even shows up at the lab when I stay too late and drags me home to rest.
What do I do for him? Nothing. Hell, I barely remember where his gym is.
That needs to change. I need to change. I need to be worthy of Sawyer’s attention, worthy of his care and his love. I can’t keep leeching off him, only taking and never giving anything back.
I need to fight my own battles rather than wait for him to fight them for me. I need to face up to difficult situations rather than hide behind him and bury my head in the sand. I need to take care of him as much as he’s taken care of me—or try to, at least.
Which means I need to graduate on time. I can’t keep putting it off because I’m afraid of what comes after. I need to tell Mom and Dad that I won’t be working for the family company, that I’m staying in academia.
They won’t like it. Dad will end up shouting at me. Mom will side with him. It’ll be pretty ugly. But it’s something I have to do, because it’s what Sawyer would do if he were in my position, it’s what he would want me to do if I wasn’t such a coward.
And I need to start doing stuff around the apartment. Stuff like, I don’t know, vacuuming. That’s a thing, right? I glance at the floor, which looks pretty clean to me. How do you know when the floor needs vacuuming? And where is the vacuum cleaner anyway? I’m sure we have one… somewhere.
Okay, I’ll leave the cleaning for now. What else can I do?
Food. Dinner. I glance at the clock. It’ll be a couple hours before Sawyer gets home from work.
Maybe I can cook something? I go to the kitchen and open the fridge door.
There’s food in there, but I don’t know what to do with any of it.
And to be honest, I’m more likely to burn the building down than end up with something edible.
No cooking then. I’ll order delivery instead.
I grab my phone and pull up the food delivery app. There’s this Italian place Sawyer orders from a lot—what is it called? I scroll and check menus until I find the one with the spaghetti and meatballs he’s always raving about, and I place the order. There. Done.
The sense of accomplishment I feel is ridiculous. I placed an order on a food delivery app, for god’s sake. It’s not difficult or complicated. I’ve done it before. So why do I have the urge to call Sawyer so I can brag about it?
Forty minutes later, the food arrives and I even remember to tip the delivery guy. Except it’s still another hour before Sawyer will be home and the food will get cold by then. Shit. I didn’t think the timing through. I knew I was forgetting something.
Preston
I ordered dinner for Sawyer.
Madison
Okay… congratulations?
He’s not home yet and the food will be cold. What do I do?
Oh my god. Seriously?
Yes.
*eye roll emoji* Put it in the oven.
No, wait. Hold on.
The phone buzzes in my hand and I swipe to answer Madison’s call.
“Don’t just put the whole thing in the oven,” she warns before I even say hello.
“Then what should I do?”
“Alright. Step one. Is there anything in the oven?”
I pull open the oven door. “No, just the racks.”
“Okay, good. Do you know how to turn the oven on?”
“Um…” I stare at the display panel with buttons and dials and—
“Never mind. Let’s switch to video and you can point the camera at the controls.”
It takes me a moment to get the camera on and pointed in the right direction. Then Madison walks me through turning the oven on to the lowest heat setting.
“Okay, now take the food out of the bags. What kind of containers are they in? What material are they made out of?”
I untie the plastic bag, then unroll the paper one. There are three containers inside. “Aluminum and the tops are paper.”
“Thank god. In that case, you can pop the whole thing inside, close the oven door, and you’re good to go.”
“That’s it?” I ask, glancing from the container of food in my hand to the racks inside the oven.
“That’s it!”
“Oh. That’s not very hard.”
Madison sighs and gives me a wry smile. “No, it’s not. It’s sweet that you got dinner for Sawyer, though. I’m sure he’ll appreciate it.”
I slide the three containers into the oven and close the door. Then I hit the lightbulb button and peer through the glass window. “I guess. It’s just… how come I don’t know how to do any of these things?”
“Because you’ve never had to before.” Madison laughs. “You went from living at home with all that staff, to living with Sawyer who does everything for you. Why would you learn it if you didn’t need to?”
I hum, staring at the food containers in the oven.
“It’s cool that you’re doing it now, though. I’m proud of you, Pres.”
I hang up with Madison, then go to sit by the window. The sun’s already set, but the sky is still bright from all the city lights. I fall asleep curled up in the armchair, my mind finally quieting enough for me to slip into unconsciousness.
The next thing I know, a strong hand is gently shaking my shoulder. I blurrily blink my eyes open to find Sawyer crouching in front of me. He’s wearing such a kind smile and his eyes are filled with such tenderness. My chest expands with a ticklish, bubbling feeling at the sight of him.
“Tired?” he asks.
I shake my head. “No, just waiting for you to get back.”
“Aw… miss me?” There’s a teasing note to his voice, but it’s true, I did.
I smile sheepishly. “Yeah.”
Sawyer’s eyes darken, and then he’s pulling me to my feet and hauling me in for a hug. “I missed you too.”
It’s been less than half a day since we last saw each other, but relief washes over me as I mold myself to Sawyer. My eyes drift shut and I savor the feeling of being held safe and secure in his arms.
“Did you eat?” Sawyer eventually asks.
I stiffen because I haven’t. I might’ve accidentally skipped lunch because I was so preoccupied. “I was waiting for you,” I say instead. “I ordered food. It’s in the oven.”
Sawyer’s eyebrows shoot up. “The oven?”
I’m not offended that he’s surprised, but I pout anyway. “I called Madison to make sure I didn’t burn anything down.”
He chuckles and drops a kiss on my forehead. “What did you order?” He tucks me under his arm and guides me toward the kitchen.
“The Italian place you like?” At least, I hope I picked the right one.
“Mmm, I do like that place. You got the meatballs?”
I nod, glad that I remembered what he liked. “Yeah.”
“Awesome.”
Sawyer deposits me on a stool by the kitchen island, then pulls the food containers out of the oven. He dishes up two plates of spaghetti and meatballs and slices of garlic bread.
When we sit down to eat, I make an attempt at small talk. That’s what people do right? Have conversations over meals?
“How’s, um, how was your day?”
Sawyer pauses with his fork halfway in his mouth. He glances at me in surprise, then finishes the bite before speaking. “Uh, good,” he says with a smile, like he knows what I’m trying to do. “I broke up with Fitz.”
My eyes widen and that ticklish bubbly feeling comes back in full force. “You did?”
“Yup.” Sawyer reaches for my hand. “I love you, Preston. I can’t see other people when I’m in love with you.”
My face heats and I drop my chin to my chest. He loves me. The reminder makes me feel all warm inside and I wish I could say it back to him, but I don’t know how.
“How was your day?” Sawyer asks, deftly changing the subject like he knows I’m at a loss for words.