CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO SAWYER #2
I half expect her to defend herself, to throw my misgivings in my face and blame me for my career mishaps—you know, since I was the one who flipped her off at the altar. But she doesn’t. Instead, she looks up at me with such regret that I’m thrown off.
“I’d like to say that I was told to act that way.
That the studio pressured me, or my agent advised me, but they didn’t.
What it comes down to is that the pressure of Hollywood got to me; it was eating me up inside for so long.
But when I kissed Simon, it felt like I had power in the industry, something I didn’t have before.
People were paying attention to me. The media cared what I did, and for once, I actually felt like I mattered, stood out from all the other actors clamoring for parts. ”
“Yes, at someone else’s expense.”
“Which has taken me far too long to realize.” Staring down at her hands, she adds, “I’m ashamed of my behavior, Sawyer, and I’m not asking you to forgive me because I frankly don’t deserve it.”
“Then why did you come here?” I ask.
“Because for some reason I thought it might be nice for you to see me like this.”
“To gain sympathy?” I ask incredulously.
“No.” Her eyes snap up to mine. “So that you can know that despite my attempts to trash your name, I’m the one who’s been trashed. This whole charade, parading around from news outlet to news outlet, it’s done nothing but damage my image. You should see what they’re saying about me.”
“About you?” I nearly fly off the bed. “Are you really trying to get sympathy from me? There are memes made of me with devil horns popping out of my head as I flip you off. You don’t know what bad press is until you’re in my shoes.”
She sighs heavily. “I don’t think I’m doing a good job explaining myself.”
“Yeah, I think we could agree on that.”
She leans forward. “I came here to apologize.” I wait for her to continue, to hear that apology.
“I’m sorry, Sawyer. For everything. I never should have treated you the way that I did, and I never should have cheated on you in the first place.
In all honesty, you were the best thing to ever happen to me, and I threw that all away. ”
“Uh-huh, and how would Simon feel if he heard you say that?”
“He wouldn’t care.” She glances away. “He, uh, he and I have called it quits. I believe, as we speak, he’s off to Tulum, Mexico, right now with his plastic surgeon’s nurse.” Not surprised. I quickly learned after he started dating Annalisa that Simon’s loyalty was as valuable as a single penny.
I fold my arms across my chest. “Which means you’re lonely, and that’s why you came here. You say you want to apologize; is that the truth? Or do you really just want to get back together with me?”
“No. I don’t.” She shakes her head. “I know you won’t want to take me back, and I also know I don’t deserve you.”
“Damn right on both accounts,” I say as her eyes cast down. And I don’t know why, you can say it’s my conscience that took a moment to rear into high gear, but the defeat in her shoulders and her deflated expression actually make me feel bad for her.
I know. Crazy.
I should not have any sort of feelings toward her. I should be hoping she gets swept up by the winds that blow through the San Jacinto Mountains, never to be seen again. And yet I feel fucking sorry for her.
What is wrong with me?
I scrub my hand over my face. “I don’t know how not to be mean to you right now. I’m just so... mad. And I thought I was over it. I’ve moved on. I found someone I truly love—”
“You moved on?” she asks, her eyes flashing up to mine.
“Yes, did you think I was just going to be single for the rest of my life?”
“No. I don’t know what I thought.” She smooths her hands over her legs, her white shorts barely covering the upper half of her legs.
“I guess I’m just surprised. From your general attitude since the engagement, it seemed like you didn’t believe in love anymore, and I know that’s all because of me.
I’m just shocked is all. I’m happy for you, though. I bet she is amazing.”
“She is,” I say softly. “She really fucking is.” I pull on the back of my neck. “Okay, so you wanted to apologize, you did that—is that all?”
She stands and takes off her red cardigan.
“Whoa, what the hell are you doing?” I put my hands on her hips and move her backward.
“I’m just hot.” She chuckles. “Don’t worry, I’m not doing anything you need to worry about. I wouldn’t.”
Well, thank God for that.
“But I do have something I want to give you.” She goes to her large purse and pulls out a powder-blue dress shoe and holds it out to me. “You left this on the steps of the church. I don’t know why, but I thought you might like it, so, you know, you could burn the pair together.”
I chuckle and take the shoe from her. “Yeah, this has potential for very good kindling.”
“Figured as much.” She clasps her hands in front of her.
“You know, Sawyer, I really am sorry. I know there’s no possible way to earn your forgiveness, and that’s really okay.
But I wanted to come here and see you in person, tell you that if I could go back in time and change things, I would.
I never would have left you. I would have talked to you about my insecurities, and I would have leaned on you for support. ”
Touched at her honesty, I stand as well, and I take her hand in mine. “I would have supported you, Anna.”
“I know.” She quickly swipes away at a tear as she releases my hand. “Thank you. You’re so much kinder than I deserve.”
“Maybe in the future, you can learn to trust the people around you, the people with good intentions—Simon not included.”
“Yeah,” she says breathlessly.
We spend the next few minutes catching up.
I tell her about the screenplay, which she’s actually excited to see come to life.
And she tells me about how her mom plays the video of me flipping the bird at the altar on repeat, laughing the whole time.
It’s a pleasant exchange. Does it make me think we can be friends?
Never. But does it give me a slice of peace and the chance to shut the door on this part of my life? Yes.
“Well, I should get going.”
“Yeah, a guest should be checking into this cabin at any time now.”
Together, we exit the cabin, and when we’re on the porch, she turns toward me.
“I’m headed into Palm Springs for a mental health retreat.
I thought you might want to know, since, well, you can see that I’m trying to make a positive change in my life.
Not many people know about it, so please don’t say anything.
Not that I have any right to ask that of you. ”
“You can trust me. I wouldn’t say anything. And I’m happy that you’re doing something to help yourself.”
“Thank you.” Placing her hand on my arm, she reaches up and presses a kiss to my cheek. “That means a lot to me.”
When she pulls away, she gives me a soft wave and heads up the path to the parking lot. She walks right past Jaz, who stands at the edge of the pathway, arms crossed, switchblade in hand.
Oh fuck.
Annalisa gives Jaz a quick once-over but doesn’t say anything as she disappears behind the trees. Unfortunately for me, I won’t be able to escape her as easily.
Not sure how to approach this, I gently hold up my hands. “Jaz, it’s not what you think.”
Her face remains neutral. Her pose, stoic. Commanding. Her silence is honestly more terrifying than her lashing out at me. Without uttering a word, she turns on her heel and heads into the lobby.
Double fuck.
I have no idea what she’s thinking or why she was holding her switchblade like that, but what I do know is that the fear pulsing through me, sending all my nerves into high alert, is validated.
And I need to catch up to her before she can say anything to Fallon.
Jaz is a loose cannon. She’s protective.
Emotional. Reacts instead of thinks, and I can only imagine what she would say to Fallon.
Hint: it won’t look good for me. Not to mention, this is the last thing Fallon needs to deal with at the moment.
I jog after her, right up to the lobby. “Nothing happened,” I announce, swinging the door open.
But she doesn’t say anything; she doesn’t even glance in my direction—she ignores me and types away on her phone. Fuck, is she texting Fallon? The panic in my chest feels overwhelming, to the point that I’m worried I might pass out.
“Jaz, did you hear me? Nothing happened.” She continues to tap her screen. “Are you texting Fallon? You know I can just go upstairs to talk to her, right?”
She sets her phone down on the counter and crosses her arms over her chest. “Actually, you can’t. Because she’s on her way to the hospital with Sully.”
“What?” I yell. I charge past Jaz and run up the stairs, taking two at a time until I reach the door to the residence.
I swing it open and find nothing but silence.
I glance around the room—no traces of them, not a single clue.
Frantic, I run to the bedroom, snag my keys and wallet, and pat my pocket to make sure I have my phone.
When everything is accounted for, I jog down the stairs, past Jaz, and straight out to my car, but I come to an abrupt halt when I catch a glimpse of my tires.
Slashed.
Every.
Single.
One.
Motherfucker.
I turn to find Jaz standing behind me, arms crossed.
“What the actual fuck, Jaz.”
“It’s Jazlyn to you.” She nods toward my tires. “I saw you in that cabin with your ex-girlfriend . You thought you were being so stealthy. I warned you, you know. Do not fuck with my girl.”
“I didn’t!” I yell.
“Uh-huh, so these pictures I have of you on my phone embracing your ex mean nothing?”
“Yes!” I push my hand through my hair as my heart hammers in my chest. “They mean nothing. Christ, did you send them to Fallon?”
“What do you think?”