Chapter 28
BECKETT
THE SECOND THE word “no” left my mouth, I watched Sawyer’s face change.
I’d spent days learning that beautiful face. His expressions were so open and honest, so easy for me to read, even when he was hiding behind a joke designed to keep the world from getting too close.
Now, though, I watched him close himself off to me as realization hit.
The badge was still in his hand, my name and face staring up from the plastic as evidence.
I had imagined telling him the truth in so many different ways.
Rehearsed versions of it while he slept against me, while his family pulled me into their photos, and every time Sawyer smiled at me like I was someone he could trust.
Every version had been wrong. This one was worse. So much worse.
“Say something,” he said.
I forced myself not to move closer or reach for him. That was my first instinct, to go to him, but it wasn’t the right one.
“I…let you mistake me for someone else,” I said.
Disbelief crossed his face, his head shaking, even as I confirmed the conclusion he seemed to come to. “I don’t understand. Why were you there? Were you meeting someone else?”
“I was supposed to meet a blind date,” I said. My voice sounded too steady for how unsteady I felt. “I saw him at the bar with someone else and was about to leave when you walked in.”
Sawyer blinked. “A blind date.”
“Yes.”
“So you weren’t there for work.”
“No.”
“You weren’t there because anyone hired you.”
“No.”
He let out a breath that almost sounded like a laugh, but there was no humor in it. “Jesus.”
“It took me a second to figure it out,” I said, because he shouldn’t have to drag every piece of what happened out of me.
“You walked up to me, nervous and gorgeous and trying so damn hard to look like you knew what you were doing, and I realized you thought I was the man you were supposed to meet. I should’ve corrected you the second I understood. ”
“Yeah.” His voice was quiet but sharp. “You should’ve.”
“I know.”
The words landed hard between us. Sawyer stared at me for a long moment, then looked down at the badge again and tossed it onto my bag like he couldn’t stand feeling it in his hand anymore. He kept his gaze on the floor, the flush creeping up his neck telling me he was embarrassed.
God, that gutted me. All I’d wanted was for him to feel safe this week, and now I’d fucked all those best-laid plans to shit.
“So, you just…what?” he said. “Decided to pretend to be an escort?”
“At first, yes.”
His eyes snapped to mine.
Good. Let him be angry. He deserved that much.
“I was curious about you. I told myself I’d correct you. But the more you talked, the more I understood what you were feeling and I let myself believe I could help. That the mix-up happened for a reason.” I shook my head. “I didn’t think it would turn into this. That’s not an excuse—”
“Good, because it sounds like one.”
“It’s not. Selfishly, I was attracted to you, and I let it go on too long. I just…really thought I would come clean before it mattered.”
“Before what mattered?”
“You.”
Sawyer’s eyes narrowed. “So I was some fun little misunderstanding that accidentally started to matter?”
“No, of course not. You weren’t that.”
“Wasn’t I?” His voice rose, the hurt evident beneath the anger.
“Because from where I’m standing, I walked up to a complete stranger and told him my life story, dragged him to meet my family and spend a week with me, asked about money and whether sex was part of the job, and crossed all those boundaries.
” He took in a deep breath, rubbing his forehead. “I feel like a fuckin’ idiot.”
My chest tightened until it hurt to breathe. “I lied to you, Sawyer. I should’ve told you the truth from the beginning and I didn’t. You don’t deserve that, and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”
“You’re right. I don’t.” He looked away, his lower lip caught between his teeth. “God.”
He was quiet for a long time, probably trying to make sense of it all, and there was nothing I could do to make things better.
Then he said, “You let me wonder whether you wanted me or whether it was just part of—” He stopped, his jaw clenched, eyes shining in a way that made me hate myself.
“I know,” I said.
“Do you? Because I don’t think you do. Do you have any idea what it feels like to stand here and remember every single humiliating thing I said to you, thinking you were someone who did this kind of thing all the time and maybe wouldn’t judge me for it?”
“I never judged you. I never would.”
“Well, that’s great for you, Beckett.” His voice cracked, and he looked away fast. “That makes me feel so much better.”
I took a step toward him without meaning to, stopping only when his shoulders tensed. He needed space, and that was the last thing I wanted to give.
He looked back at me then, breathing in deep before he said, “Did you laugh at me?”
The question hit me like a punch to my chest. “No.”
“Did you pity me?”
“Never.”
“Don’t say that because you think it’s the right answer.”
“It’s the truth.”
Sawyer looked up at me, and the anger in his eyes was laced with hurt that I’d put there. I held his gaze, not backing away from the pain I’d caused.
“I want you,” I said. “I care about you. I was trying to protect you, and I know none of that makes what I did okay, but it’s true.”
Sawyer dragged a hand through his hair. “I hate that I believe you.”
His words cut through every defense I had left, and it was a wonder I didn’t fall to my knees.
“I hate that I can look at you right now and know you mean that.” His voice dropped a little lower. “Because if you were just some asshole who used me, this would be easier.”
“I never wanted to hurt you.”
Sawyer wrapped his arms around himself and turned his back on me as he paced a little. “I feel so stupid.”
“You are not stupid.”
“Don’t. Don’t say that like you get to fix how I’m feeling.”
He was right. I didn’t get to fix it or soften it, tell him what his hurt was allowed to look like just because watching it was tearing me apart.
I could only nod as the room went silent again. Outside the world was waking up, birds chirping, a distant whistle blowing, all while Sawyer’s morning fell apart.
Sawyer stopped pacing, his eyes dropping to the ID on my bag for a long time, “Was any of it real?”
“Yes. All of it. Everything I feel and want with you is real. From the second you sat down, it was so easy with you. I’ve never had to put on an act when it comes to you. It’s all been me. The real me.”
He closed his eyes, and for a second I thought he might break. But when he opened his eyes again, they were wet but steady, and that was worse, because Sawyer was already trying to hold himself together for everyone else.
“You were the first thing in weeks that didn’t make me feel stupid for wanting more,” he said. “Now I feel stupid for all of it.”
That broke something in me, and I started toward him again before forcing myself to stop. “You don’t owe me understanding just because I had feelings while I lied. None of what I felt was fake, not then and not now. But I know that doesn’t make the lie disappear.”
He nodded slowly, like he’d heard me but didn’t know what to do with it.
The sound of my phone vibrating on the counter cut through the silence. Sawyer glanced at it and tapped the screen once, silencing the alarm I’d set yesterday. He didn’t say anything as he walked over to the dresser and picked up his watch.
The day was still happening. His mothers’ vow renewal was in a few hours, and he still had to put on a suit, stand with his family, smile for photos, and somehow carry this with him.
God I was an asshole.
“I need to go get ready,” he said, his back to me.
“I know. I’ll…go.”
That made him pause.
“No,” he said, voice rough. “You need to get ready too.”
“I don’t know that I should be there.”
“My moms are expecting you now.” He picked up his cuff links, closing his fist around them. “And I’m not explaining this to them today.”
That was fair. More than fair. Peter would be there, his family would be there, and the last thing Sawyer needed was whispers and questions. Especially on a day that belonged to Catherine and Lily.
I nodded. “Okay.”
He went to the closet and pulled out a garment bag and the shoes for later. For a moment he stood there with everything hooked over one arm, staring down at the floor instead of me.
“I need space.”
“I know.”
He started toward the door, but then turned around. “You’ll be there later?”
“I will.”
He bit down on his lip and nodded, and it was all I could do not to go to him, to wrap him in my arms and make him believe I never meant for this to happen this way.
But he didn’t need my arms. He needed my honesty. And, apparently, space.
So I stood there, helpless, as Sawyer walked out the door, the latch clicking shut quietly behind him. Worse than a slammed door.
The room felt hollow after he left, too quiet with the evidence of us everywhere. The rumpled bed. The clothes on the floor. His cologne still hanging faintly in the air, wrapping around me like a punishment.
For days I’d told myself I was waiting for the right time, but there had never been a perfect moment to come out with the truth.
I didn’t follow him. He’d asked for space and I would give it to him even if it killed me.
Because that was what you were supposed to do when you cared deeply about someone. You just had to sit with what you’d done and hope like hell it hadn’t destroyed the thing you wanted most.