13. Knox #2
I can’t help but think about where my mind was at when I left this driveway yesterday morning. How my main thought was what to say to Sawyer. How Owen told me he needed to talk to me about something…and that ended up being him showing me a fucking ring.
It was only yesterday. Twenty-four hours. It feels longer and shorter all at the same time.
“Your mother’s medicated,” Dad says as he turns off the car. “She’ll probably be asleep.”
“You think her taking pills is a good idea?”
He goes still, his hand frozen on the wheel. For a long moment, he doesn’t move an inch, doesn’t even look at me.
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?”
“Nothing.” I reach for the door handle, but he’s faster. His hand clamps down on my shoulder, keeping me in place.
“No. You don’t get to say shit like that and then walk away. What the fuck are you implying?”
Even with only the motion sensor lights lining the driveway, I can see how tense his jaw is. There’s a warning in his eyes. A challenge to say exactly what I know.
And I want to, so fucking badly.
I want to acknowledge that I know what happened four years ago. That I’m the one who found her. That I’m the one who saved her while he was too busy drinking and fucking Helen Thorne to notice his wife was trying to die.
He knows I know, but he’s too much of a coward to admit it.
I swallow and it all goes down like razor blades.
“I’m not implying anything. Just asking if you think it’s safe…given her history.”
“Well, the doctor prescribed them…so what do you think?”
“Right. Because that worked out so well last time.”
His fingers dig in hard enough to hurt. “Watch yourself.”
“Or what?” The words come out before I can stop them. “You’ll hit me? Been a while since you’ve done that. Might be good stress relief for you.”
His nostrils flare and for a second, I think he actually will hit me. But then he pulls his hand back, clenching his fist.
“Get out of my car.”
He doesn’t have to ask me twice.
I’m out and up the walkway before he steps foot outside. Fuck him. I don’t need his shit, not today.
The front door is unlocked as usual and I push inside, getting immediately hit with the familiar smell of the place. Wood polish and lake water and the faint scent of my mother’s lavender candles.
The only sound is the whirring of the ceiling fan in the great room.
My father comes in behind me, sighing like just getting out of the car took too much out of him. He doesn’t say anything as he sets his keys on the entry table and heads straight for the kitchen.
I shove off my shoes, reaching for a phone in my pocket that’s not there. I’d probably end up watching the news coverage again and again anyway. Or scrolling through old texts with Sawyer, fighting with myself over calling her.
My father grabs a glass, and I hear a few ice cubes clink at the bottom. I don’t need to see what he’s doing to know he’s going straight for his Johnnie Walker Blue.
“I’m going to my study,” he says without so much as looking at me. “Don’t wake your mother.”
He closes the door, clicks the lock, and I’m alone again.
I move through the great room to the wall of windows overlooking the lake. The water is black and still, reflecting the moon. I can almost pretend it’s peaceful, like nothing happened and yesterday was just a normal day.
The cottage Owen and Sawyer rented is somewhere on the other side of the lake.
I drove by it to check it out before they got there.
Kept tabs on it through my app—well, tabs on her.
It’s a small place right outside The Point, not too far of a walk to the water.
Owen had been so excited about it, this was the first time they’d have their own space for our Lake Mercer summer trip.
I knew that was part of the tension between Sawyer and me…
my parents too. But I think it was mainly because of the proposal.
I wonder if she’s there now, alone with Owen’s suitcase. Or if Helen took her back to her apartment where she doesn’t have to be reminded of his absence.
I should stop thinking about her, but every time I’m alone, even for a second, my mind strays to her face. How utterly devastated she looked.
“Knox?”
I turn to find Ella coming down the stairs. She’s changed into pajama pants and one of my old sweatshirts, and pulled her dark hair into a messy bun. Her eyes are red and swollen and maybe I’m exhausted, or just tired of seeing people in pain, but I feel for her.
“I thought I heard you come in,” she says softly, hovering at the bottom step.
“Yeah.”
“Are you hungry? People have been bringing food all day. There’s a casserole, lasagna, someone even brought a whole turkey dinner.”
“I’m good.”
“You should eat something. I saw that hospital food. It looked awful.”
“Ella.” I turn back to the window. “I said I’m not hungry.”
I hear her footsteps cross the hardwood floor. She stops beside me, looking out at the dark lake.
“It’s so quiet,” she whispers, and after a long pause, she goes on.
“He was excited to come here for dinner, to spend time with us.” She stops, pressing her fingers to her mouth before continuing.
“I keep thinking what if I went on the ride with him…I almost did, you know? But he wanted to catch up with Sawyer, and I was still nauseated and…I don’t know. It’s just there, in my mind on repeat.”
I swallow and hang my head. What am I supposed to say to that?
We’re both quiet for a while and I think about how grateful I am that she didn’t go on. I may not feel much for her, but she wouldn’t deserve that. No one would.
“Do you think Sawyer’s okay?” she asks, breaking the silence. “Is she still at their cottage?”
“I don’t know.”
“Maybe I should drive over there and check on her. I can use your mom’s car.”
“No.” The word comes out rougher than I mean it to.“Leave her alone.”
Ella looks at me, studying my face. “She shouldn’t be alone right now.”
“She doesn’t want to see us.” I close my eyes. “Trust me.”
“But—”
“Please, Ella. Just leave it.”