Chapter 30
BECKETT
IHAD NEVER felt more out of place than at a ceremony built around love.
Which was saying something, considering I’d been welcomed into this family like I belonged.
I’d walked into their lives under false pretenses, and it was hard to feel like I deserved to sit there watching Catherine and Lily Montgomery promise forever to each other all over again.
The scene was beautiful, though, with cream flowers and greenery all along the arch at the front of the pavilion with the lake in the background behind.
All the aisle candles I’d helped unload yesterday lined both sides of the runner, and all the string lights we’d fixed hung overhead, waiting for the sun to go down before they really came alive for the after-party.
I should’ve been able to look at it all and feel proud to have played a small part, but all I could think was that the best thing I’d done since meeting Sawyer was also the bare minimum. I’d told the truth too late.
I sat near the back, hands clasped in my lap as the other guests talked quietly around me. All I could hear was Sawyer’s voice from earlier, though. You were the first thing in weeks that didn’t make me feel stupid for wanting more. Now I feel stupid for all of it.
I’d been carrying that sentence with me all day long, through getting dressed, walking from the cabin alone, and then arriving at the pavilion unsure of what I was supposed to do now.
It wasn’t long before the music changed and Hudson came into view, leading his brothers toward the front of the pavilion.
He nodded at several people in the crowd, and when his gaze landed on me, I knew Sawyer had told him.
His expression didn’t change much, since, unlike Sawyer, he didn’t give much away, but the protective, assessing look in his eyes told me all I needed to know.
Rome followed right after, picking me out immediately, and I couldn’t blame him for the disappointment and warning in his stare.
I gave them both a small nod, and then Sawyer stepped into view and everything in me went still.
For one painful second I forgot how to breathe.
He looked so damn good. That black tux on him was tailored perfection on his long, lean body.
His hair was styled but still a little tousled, and it made my hands ache with the memory of sinking my fingers into it.
Sawyer was gorgeous.
No, not just that. He was so breathtakingly stunning that it was hard to sit there and not go to him.
As all three brothers faced the crowd, Rome leaned over and whispered something in Sawyer’s ear, and it made him laugh—but it didn’t reach his eyes.
That fucking killed me. He was smiling because that was what today required and because his mothers deserved it. Sawyer knew how to show up for the people he loved even when he was hurting.
Then his eyes met mine and the laugh faded. Not completely or in a way anyone else would notice, but I saw it. Felt it. That electricity that was always between us felt a little bit tighter and unsure.
I didn’t smile… I wasn’t sure if I was allowed to. So I held his gaze and gave him the only thing I could from where I sat.
What he’d asked for: space.
Every part of me wanted to plead my case and apologize, but the ball was in Sawyer’s court, as it should be. He was the one who got to decide what happened next.
After a long moment, Sawyer looked away first, and I couldn’t deny that it felt like a stab to my gut. I deserved it, though, and more.
Another music change, to something softer and more romantic, and everyone stood as Catherine and Lily made their way down the aisle together.
They walked side by side and hand in hand, wearing flowers in their hair instead of carrying them, and I caught the tears already flowing for both of them as they passed.
Even I felt that. How could I not? There was something powerful about watching two people choose each other again after decades together.
No relationship was ever easy, but they made it look worth it as they stood there, surrounded by their family and filled with an audience of adoring friends and loved ones. Everyone should be so lucky.
As Rome began the ceremony—much more subdued for the occasion than the over-the-top game show host of a few nights ago—I tried and failed not to look at Sawyer.
He watched his mothers with a soft smile and tears in his eyes, his hands clasped in front of him.
Every now and then he’d dab at his eyes with the tissue clenched in his hand.
I had no right to wish I could be up there giving him the support he needed, I knew that, but it didn’t change my natural instinct to do so.
I tried to focus elsewhere, on his moms as they gave their vows, which were funny and sweet, making everyone laugh and cry in equal measure.
Rome, to his credit, was showing quite a bit of restraint, keeping the ceremony heartfelt with just a touch of the dramatic, because how could the actor in him resist making at least one joke?
But through it all, I could only think of what I’d almost had. Sawyer. And that included his family and the laughter, the teasing, the theme nights and the quiet moments with him at the end of a long day. It was a future I hadn’t realized I’d already started imagining.
Applause broke out around me, snapping me out of my thoughts as Catherine and Lily kissed beneath the arch. Everyone got to their feet, and I followed, my eyes drifting to Sawyer again.
The whole event was magical, just the way they’d intended it.
So why did I feel so hollow?
I kept to myself as the ceremony transitioned to the courtyard, where drinks and appetizers were being passed around by waiters with trays while the family took photos at the pavilion.
Soon we would all move to the ballroom for the reception, but Sawyer’s parents had wanted to spend as much time outside as possible, since the weather was so nice.
“Champagne?” A waiter appeared to my right, a full tray in hand, but I shook my head.
It would be too easy to drown my sorrows and the weight of what I’d done in alcohol. No, I needed a clear head, especially if I hoped to get a chance to talk to Sawyer at some point.
Turned out I didn’t have to wonder about that long, because when the photographer had finished with initial photos, Sawyer walked in my direction. His hands were in his pockets and he wasn’t looking at me—yet—but his brothers were, ready to step in if needed.
Fuck, I suddenly felt like Peter, and that made me sick to my stomach.
Sawyer stopped in front of me, lifting his head, and I could see the strain around his eyes. “Hey. You came.”
“You asked me to.”
He bit his lip, nodding as he looked down at his feet and silence stretched between us. It was strange to be surrounded by laughter and the clinking of champagne glasses.
“You looked happy up there,” I said. “With them.”
“I was.” His eyes shifted toward where Catherine and Lily were wrapped up in each other and smiling for the photographer by the lake. “I am.”
“I’m glad.”
He nodded, still not looking at me, and another long silence fell. There’d been a time when Sawyer had filled silences with nervous rambling, or when he’d finally become comfortable enough with me to just be. Now it felt like I’d forced him to slam a door I’d opened.
I took a breath, not wanting to say what I needed to, but this wasn’t for me. It was for him. “Sawyer, I know you need space. I’m going to give you that.”
His eyes came back to mine.
“I don’t belong here right now,” I said, keeping my voice low. “Not like this and after what I’ve done. I’m going to go back to the cabin, pack my things, and call a car.”
I thought I’d see relief on his face and in the set of his shoulders, but something like panic flashed and then disappeared.
Had I imagined that?
“You’re leaving?” he asked.
“I think it’s the right thing to do.” And it was past time for me to do the right thing.
Sawyer’s lips thinned out and he nodded once. “Right.”
“I don’t want to make today harder for you.”
“Sure.” He looked away again, and when he spoke, his voice was so quiet I could barely make out his words. “I didn’t say I wanted you gone.”
Well, no. He hadn’t. But wanting and needing were not the same thing, and I had blurred enough lines for both of us.
“I know,” I said. “But I don’t want you to have to be here with me when you should be with your family.”
Sawyer’s eyes went a bit glassy before he blinked a few times. “Yeah. I should.”
I wanted to touch him. God, I wanted to. Wanted to pull him into my arms and beg him to forgive me and hold him as long as he’d let me.
Instead, I fought everything in me and put my hands in my pockets.
“I’m sorry,” I said. “For all of it.”
“I know.”
We stared at each other, and I wondered if he could see the regret I felt, how much it was going to physically pain me to walk away from him.
But that was selfish. Saying it out loud would be more selfish. Asking him not to let this be the end wasn’t fair to him, and I’d done enough.
I forced myself to turn and walk away. Everyone was still celebrating, and hopefully that meant, with me gone, Sawyer would be able to do the same. His brothers would make sure he was okay, of that at least I was positive.
I just wanted it to be me.
The walk back to the cabin felt longer than it ever had before, memories from our time together etched into the path.
The night we’d arrived and I’d held his hand for the first time there.
The drunken walk back after Sawyer had busted out the Worm and tweaked his shoulder.
Kissing under the moonlight after dancing all night.
Inside the cabin, the silence hit even harder. It didn’t take me long to grab my toiletries from the bathroom and get my clothes together, making sure I had everything in order.
Then I saw the photo. The one from the 1991 party, a polaroid Sawyer and I had taken at the booth in my color-block tracksuit and his ridiculous overalls, both of us laughing about something and the photographer grabbing the perfect picture.
I stared at it a little longer, but didn’t feel right taking it with me, even though I was sure Sawyer wouldn’t want it anymore.
I set it back on the dresser, beside the glow stick from that same night, long dead now, along with the folded resort map, where Sawyer had written Duchess’s name and drawn a tiny skull beside the horseback trail.
I sat on the edge of the bed and stared at all of it.
I could have walked away at the hotel lounge that first night.
That was the truth I kept coming back to.
All I would’ve had to say was “You’ve got the wrong guy,” but I’d stayed.
I’d stayed every day after too, making that choice again and again because I wanted to.
Sawyer made me laugh. He made me excited to wake up and see what we’d get into that day.
It felt like I’d known him my whole life, which was something I’d never believed when other people said it, but I got it now.
I understood. Somewhere between the hot tub and the obstacle course, and the Montgomery family pulling me into photos, I’d stopped pretending I was there for any reason other than that I wanted to be with him.
Staying under false pretenses had hurt him, and while I thought leaving was the right thing to do by him, it struck me then that it was also familiar. Someone else had recently walked out the door and out of his life without giving him a choice in the matter. Fucking Peter.
I looked at the half-packed bag in front of me with the sweatshirt he’d worn of mine—because he said it smelled like me—sitting on top.
My phone was in my hand before I made the conscious decision to pick it up, the car service app still open on my screen. I stared at it for a heartbeat and then closed it.
Not yet.
I still needed to give him space, but leaving without telling him where I was going, without letting him decide if he wanted me gone or if he only needed time? That wasn’t respect; that was fear dressed up like selflessness.
I set the phone down and pushed to my feet, the cabin feeling too small, too full of him and everything I’d fucked up and still wanted. I needed air.
Leaving my bags, I walked out with no real plan except for getting away from the car service app and the cabin and the version of myself who kept deciding things for Sawyer.
By the time I realized where my feet had taken me, the stables were coming into view. Duchess lifted her head over one of the stall doors like she’d been expecting me, and I rolled my eyes.
“Don’t start. I’m not here for you,” I said, and she flicked her ear at me.
Fair enough.
I leaned against the fence and looked out over the start of the trail where Sawyer had laughed at me until he’d nearly fallen off his horse. For the first time all day, I took in a deep breath.
I wasn’t leaving. Not yet. Not unless Sawyer chose that for himself.