Twenty-Nine
Sawyer
A hollowness swells within my chest and mind overnight as I wake up in Gwen’s bedroom, inundated with rose and vanilla body spray. You’d think that finally being free of a mother who diminishes your true being and from a café which was my feeble and quite frankly stupid attempt at regaining that woman’s love, while genuinely being free enough to be my authentic self finally, would feel amazing. Disentangling. Like unlocking the shackles which have been cutting into me for so long.
Instead, it leaves this dark, endless pit which just festers within my chest, in my stomach, in my mind. Everyone has goals, everyone has ambitions, everyone has something they are working to, and I don’t even recognise myself anymore.
My entire life has been surrounded by her; her dream which I believed I ruined with my choices and with the person I truly am, and her love and affection which she dangled, taunting me, making me believe that one day I’d reach it and finally be enveloped with everything every child craves. Somehow, I never noticed her forever reeling her motherly instincts away from me, making sure I could never reach it. I was never going to be invited back into her life, I was never going to be accepted with open arms, and that is something I will learn to accept over time, I guess.
I force my heavy body to roll onto my back, searching for Gwen but she’s nowhere to be seen. I assume the Sweet siblings still have to work despite my sudden arrival, but the idea of rotting in bed for the entire day feels like something which would only make things worse yet the only option for someone like me.
I tug the pastel pink duvet up to my ears, wrapping myself tight, hoping the warmth could stir some sort of emotion that isn’t loss and yearning. Instead, the warmth radiating around me makes me yearn for more. Makes me yearn for him. I don’t want this warmth which I force into creation by constricting my body and forming a personal oven, instead I don’t want a duvet at all. I want to lay on my side, with his chest pressing against my back. His arms wrapping tight around me, his warm breath landing on my neck, his voice soothing my mind and heart from this ache and numbness which has grown. I crave his arms taut around me, holding me to the point where maybe I struggle to breathe, but that is fine because at least I would be with him. I would feel safe, loved, like me again.
His willingness, his freeing spirit, his outlook on everything and anything makes this version of myself which I’ve never recognised emerge. That version of me wasn’t different, it wasn’t forced, it was released from a prison which she held the keys to, and with him, I was just me – Sawyer Sombre, through and through. I never want to look back to how I was, how I’ve seemingly fallen back in line with how I’ve always presented, despite losing all the restrictions my life held. However, a part of me will forever believe that my smile, my laugh, my touch, will always be his. He made that happen. He brings emotions to the surface which are unbelievably unfamiliar, and buries everything I know, because those emotions don’t deserve mine or his attention anymore.
I struggle to comprehend anything my mind is screaming about, yet a knock on the door partnered with a familiar voice, forces me to focus on something else. Good.
“Hey Sawyer, I’m not sure if you’re awake yet, or if you even want any company right now, but Gwen and I have shut the bakery for the day. Gwen is out doing whatever right now, but she’ll be back soon and I’m home all day if you need anything, bud. If you’re interested, I’ve got some lunch going, so just holler.”
Xander’s footsteps quieten as some pots and pans begin to clatter in their kitchen. I can hear the beginning chords of some indie band playing, and Xander gently humming and singing along. Lunch time already?
I don’t know if it’s the smell of Xander’s bacon and eggs on his homemade rosemary sourdough loaf, or if a small voice in my brain shouts at me that remaining swaddled in duvet all day is not a good idea, but I somehow find myself standing up, my bare feet waking up on the cool hardwood floors.
I don’t remember changing into a white tank shirt and a tiny pair of black shorts which barely cover my thighs, but I already feel exposed enough after last night, let alone with this much skin on show. I pick up the pile of cream, knitted fabric that has been thrown over Gwen’s pink, plush chair, tucked in to her white vanity table. As I try to pull my limbs through the holes of my sweater, I realise that the front of my sweater is open and suddenly has a row of oak buttons descending on one side of the fabric. This isn’t my sweater. This is Gwen’s cardigan – it’ll do. I throw the cardigan over my shoulders and wrap the fabric around me tightly, my fingers fiddling with the loose strings on the sleeves.
“Sawyer! I’m so glad you could make it for some food, mate. I was worried about you after…”
His voice trails off as he drops his spatula onto the counter and throws his arms around me.
Xander has quite a bit of height on me, as his biceps rest easily on my shoulders, with his head on top of mine, his oaky musk filling my nostrils. I swear this man just permanently smells like fresh bread and trees thriving in nature.
My voice muffles into his chest. “I’m sorry about dumping so much on you guys.”
Xander steps back, his hands remaining on my shoulders and his chocolate eyes relaxing on mine.
“Sawyer, there’s no need to apologise. You are family to us. You have practically been a little brother to me since Gwen stumbled home with you linked to her arm at… what? Six-years-old? You’ve always got us, and we’ve always got you.”
He winks before patting my shoulder twice and then tending to his usual cheesy, scrambled eggs.
Even if he wants to appear as this grumpy, brooding, muscly man, Xander will always have a heart of gold which he dedicates to his family and those he cares for in his life. I also know about his love for quiet evenings in with gin and crap TV, and he can cook. I really do wonder sometimes how he has been single for so long, or how someone so understanding and caring for those around him, managed to lose someone who he says he truly loved. Still does, it seems.
Without thinking, the words escape my lips. “Xander? How do you, or did you, deal with loving someone who isn’t an option in your life?”
He pauses as he listens to my question, until he exhales and speaks. “First, you answer my question. Why is Avory not an option?”
My lips part as he catches on to exactly what I’m hinting at, even if I don’t realise it. My mind starts to race with the thought, why isn’t he an option? Could he be an option? No, I can’t leave Tetherton, I have the café and—
“I don’t know. Tetherton is all I’ve ever known, and it feels like it is all I’ll ever know.”
Xander buts in as he begins to plate our food. “No, that’s what she made you believe. Why is Avory not an option?”
“What if he’s not serious about this, us? What if I’m just another fling for him?”
I throw it out there, even though I have never truly believed it once. Avory has only ever shown me his raw, authentic, beautiful self, even after seeing all the different shades of me. Yes, Avory has told me about the fun he’s had while touring and performing, but we’re something else. Well, we were anyway.
“Has he ever given you a reason to believe that? Has he ever said that? Have you ever asked him?”
Xander drops the plates on the dining table as he offers a glass of orange juice, and I nod.
“Avory has only ever made me feel incredible, more than incredible.”
Xander pulls my seat out for me before sitting himself down and laying out a variety of condiments. His food always smells divine, and I can feel my mouth salivating as I realise how ravenous I really am, and how long it has been since my last full meal. I thank Xander for the meal as I am already piling food onto my fork.
“Then Sawyer, why don’t you try and talk to him?”
As I swallow my very full mouthful, Xander piles his fork in a similar fashion to me.
“Xan, he is leaving in a couple of days, we haven’t spoken since we were nearly found out, and he’s just better off without all of… this.”
I see Xander’s eyes widen at my comment, and while he has a mouthful I continue to speak.
“I don’t want to make this parting more painful than it already is and seeing him again won’t help with that.”
Xander swallows and his voice comes out gravely compared to usual. “Bud, what do you have left in Tetherton?”
As I ponder on his question, a mouth of greasy bacon, delicious eggs, and fresh bread distract me from my brain as it reminds me that there’s only one thing keeping me in this town now.
“You guys.”
Xander’s face softens as a small smile forms. He abruptly looks away, once again hiding this truly soft and gentle side of himself.
“Sawyer, you’ll always have us, no matter where any of us are! Phones exist for a reason.”
He chuckles to himself slightly while nearly finishing his plate, and I have over half left.
He continues as I try to catch up. “You need to find him and talk to him. Get an answer, get some closure, get rejected, anything. Anything that will answer the ‘what if’ that will linger in your mind otherwise.”
Answer the what if? As the phrase repeats itself in my thoughts, another thought becomes prominent: Is Xander getting involved with all of this, because he knows this feeling?
“Xander, do you have a ‘what if’?”
As the words slip through my lips, I wonder if I’ve possibly touched on something too close for Xander to want to talk about, but as he wipes his mouth with a cloth, and his eyes look everywhere else but at me, he speaks.
“Yes. I will forever have a ‘what if’ about Oli, and everything that happened with us, and it is beyond awful. You spend your current, present, right here right now life, constantly wondering about the past and what could have happened if I had just…”
His words trail off as his inhales turn short and sharp.
I drop my cutlery as I shovel the last mouthful of my food into my mouth, and I reach for his hand. While he doesn’t return the grip, I can see he appreciates it as his eyes meet mine with a small smile to accompany them.
A what if.
The idea of constantly wondering about Avory Bright, about what could have been, what we could do together or apart, drives my mind into shambles. My brain feels like it is shaking within my skull at the constant looming thought of Avory, with where our futures could go apart, or together.
As the thought floods my every sense and limb, the unlocking of the front door pauses said floods as Gwen stumbles into the flat, her hair dripping down her neck as her outfit is plastered in damp patches. My sweater!
Gwen drops her keys in the bowl, before running towards me and wrapping her arms around my neck tightly. Xander crosses his arms across his chest as he smirks at Gwen, who is currently planting many fruity lip balm prints all over my head.
“Hello to you, too. What’s going on?”
As she finally pulls her lips away from my hair and forehead, she practically sings her next words.
“Go get him, Sawyer! Take an umbrella, though! The rain has just kicked in and it is heavy!”
I can tell confusion is written all over my face as Gwen and Xander are smiling at each other, peering over at me from time to time.
Xander’s voice comes out sounding nearly jovial, “Sawyer. Go to him, and make sure he is not a ‘what if’.”
Suddenly, everything begins to slowly click into place. They have given me a window of opportunity to find my answers for what Avory and I had. Have. Something, anything, that means we don’t finish off at the exit door of the café.
I can feel the corners of my mouth curling up as I leap from my chair, throwing my arms around Gwen and then Xander in the process, and my entire body finally has its spark back that had fizzled out only a night ago.
I sprint around their flat, both of them giggling and waving me off whenever I dart from the bedroom for my clothes, to the bathroom for a shower, back to the bedroom because I forgot my toiletries, back to the bathroom to actually have my shower, then back to the bedroom to check myself once over in the mirror. As if someone’s playing cupid, Gwen and Xander, I actually look somewhat handsome for once, and the state you could have found me in this morning will never be known. My curls lay on my forehead and brush the top of my glasses, while the white collar of my button up sits nicely around my neck. An olive-green jumper covers most of the shirt, with a pair of brown, cotton trousers which fit perfectly, everywhere. I find my favourite pair of brown, faux leather loafers which I left at Gwen’s months ago, and as I turn and view myself from every angle, Gwen appears in the doorway.
“That’s the Sawyer Sombre we know. That’s the Sawyer Sombre which Avory knows, too.”
I turn to face Gwen, my face growing warm as I wonder how long she has been watching me checking myself out. I slide my phone into my pocket as I stroll over to her and I throw my arms around her, and my lips land near her ear.
“First of all, thank you, for everything. Secondly, how much did you tell him, talk to him about, or is there anything I need to know about?”
Gwen pulls away and rolls her eyes in my direction before singing, “Just go talk to him!”
I nod to Gwen as I hug them both again and wave them off.
“Wait, sweet! You forgot an umbrella! It’s pouring out!”
I couldn’t care less.