Addison
By the time my first showing ended Friday morning, I was already on my third cup of coffee and halfway through answering emails from the driver’s seat of my car.
I rested my forehead against the steering wheel for a second and let out a slow breath while another notification lit up my calendar. It was going to be one of those days where every appointment bled into the next without enough time to think between them.
Normally, I liked the pace. Moving fast kept everything simple. Today, though, it was like my brain literally wanted to be anywhere else.
Sawyer’s laugh slipped into my thoughts before I could stop it, followed by the quiet warmth of her apartment and the memory of how easy being around her had felt.
I sat back up with a sigh and forced myself to focus long enough to close out the showing notes on my iPad before pulling away from the curb and back into traffic.
Around Mid morning, my phone buzzed on my desk while I was typing up a listing update. I glanced down and immediately smiled when I saw Sawyer’s name lighting up my screen.
Sawyer: Hope your morning isn’t chewing you up. Want me to drop off a blowtorch to wreck your schedule?
I snorted quietly into my coffee and typed back while leaning back in my chair.
Me: Tempting… Honestly, if I had a blowtorch I’d probably aim it at my calendar myself. But thank you for the offer.
A second later another message appeared.
Sawyer: Anytime, Sunshine. Destruction is kind of my love language.
I shook my head with a small smile before setting my phone down again and returning to work.
The rest of the morning filled quickly with emails, a listing call, and a showing that ran longer than expected. But Sawyer’s messages slipped naturally between those moments. Nothing heavy or urgent, just easy back-and-forth that didn’t ask anything of me.
Late in the afternoon, Jason’s name appeared on my screen while I finished the last of my paperwork between appointments.
Jason: Hey, are we still on for tonight?
I blinked at the message as the memory surfaced that I had loosely agreed to dinner earlier in the week.
For a moment I considered telling him something had come up with work or asking to reschedule, but I knew I needed to end this and pushing it off again would only make it harder. I exhaled slowly before typing.
Me: Yes, still on.
Jason responded almost immediately.
Jason: Want me to pick you up?
No way.
Me: No, crazy busy. Coming straight from work. 7 still? La Petite Perle?
Jason: Yes. Reservation is made. See you there.
I felt like I needed to tell Sawyer what was happening. We weren’t together, or exclusively dating, but I wanted her to know why I was going tonight.
Me: Hey… Just wanted to let you know I’m going out with Jason tonight. To end things. Officially.
It didn’t take long for her to text back.
Sawyer: I want to say, I’m sorry… but I’m not? Hurry up and dump this D so we can go out again.
I laughed.
Me: Is it a pre-rec that I dump him to go out again?
Sawyer: Only because he doesn’t make you happy and I do… yes!
I set my phone down without replying again and returned to the rest of my workday. It unfolded in the way it usually did, with the last of my showings, a few inquiry calls for listings, and some contractor drama that somehow always became my problem.
* * *
At 6:45, I was in an Uber driving across town to meet Jason for dinner, my phone lit up with a text from Sawyer. It was a photo.
She was sitting in her workshop at home with one boot propped on the edge of the workbench.
A fitted ribbed tank showed off her toned arms and shoulders, grease streaking one forearm.
Her shirt had ridden up just enough to reveal a strip of skin above her jeans.
Her welding helmet rested beside a pile of tools, a beer near her hand.
She looked completely unaware of how hot she was.
Sawyer: Just so you remember my face when your with him.
I smiled despite myself and typed back.
Me: Baby, I could never forget your face.
I hit send and then realised what I had said.
Baby.
Sawyer: Call me after?
Sawyer: I miss your voice.
God.
My pulse spiked and I felt warm. Everywhere.
I was in deep with her.
Me: I will. I miss you.
Sawyer: Good.
* * *
I arrived at the restaurant five minutes early, but Jason was already waiting outside with his blazer on, despite the heat, and his phone in his hand like someone too important to be kept waiting.
How did I ever see anything in him?
When he noticed me approaching, he slipped the phone into his pocket and gave me a quick once-over. “You look great.”
It felt wrong.
“Thanks,” I replied with a polite smile as we walked inside.
I didn’t reach for his hand, although his palm settled lightly against my back as we moved toward the host stand and I let it happen for the moment. The hostess led us to a corner booth under dim lighting while a server dropped menus and a wine list on the table.
“I say Tempranillo,” Jason said while scanning the list. “Pairs well with red meat. Please tell me you’re not doing another salad night.”
“I hadn’t decided yet,” I told him calmly.
He waved his hand dismissively. “You’ll thank me. Trust me.”
I set my menu down and folded my hands together on the table before taking a steady breath. “Jason, before we order, I need to be honest,” I said. “You’re a good guy and I’ve enjoyed spending time with you, but I don’t think this is going anywhere.”
He stared at me. “Wait. What?”
“I don’t feel the connection I think I’m supposed to feel.”
“Ad’s baby—We’re perfect on paper,” he said quickly.
Hated that.
“Maybe,” I replied calmly, “but that’s not enough.”
Jason let out a short laugh that sounded more irritated than amused and leaned back in the booth. “Are you serious right now?”
I nodded once. “I am, yes.”
“This is just cold feet,” he said. “You get nervous and bolt. That’s what this is.”
“No,” I said gently. “It isn’t.”
Jason leaned forward slightly and lowered his voice as though explaining something obvious. “Addison, I’m good for you. I show up. I have my life together.”
My stomach tightened, but I held his gaze.
“Just take some time. Thank about it. Call me,” he continued confidently.
“You’ll realize I’m right. No one else is going to know how to show up for you the way I do.
” He pushed back his chair and stood while smoothing his blazer.
“You’re not breaking up with me,” he said with a small shake of his head. “You’re just having a moment.”
And just like that Jason walked out of the restaurant while the surrounding noise filled the space he left behind.
I exhaled slowly and reached for my phone.
Me: Well. He just left me sitting here. Guess I’m ordering to go and heading home.
Sawyer responded almost immediately.
Sawyer: What an asshole. Where are you? I’ll come if you want.
I smiled slightly while typing.
Me: Yes please, I have a table for two at La Petite Perle. Want me to order you a whiskey?
Sawyer: Yes please. On my way, Sunshine.
About fifteen minutes later Sawyer walked in, she’d changed into slacks, a button down black shirt and moved through the restaurant with easy confidence until she reached the table and sat in the seat to my left.
“Well,” Sawyer said while glancing at my half-finished wine with a crooked smirk, “this worked out nicely.”
I leaned back against the booth and laughed softly. “Definitely.”
She took a sip of the whiskey I had ordered her and into the space with an ease that felt steady instead of overwhelming.
I was instantly calm.
When I told her what Jason had said, she winced and shook her head. “How does a man have that much audacity and not a damn clue?” Sawyer asked.
I laughed again, the sound full of relief this time.
Sawyer lifted her glass toward me. “To not settling for the walking LinkedIn profile.”
“Oh, absolutely to that,” I replied as I clinked my glass against hers. “To hot welders who ride motorcycles and actually listen instead.” I smirked.
Dinner was kind of perfect. The conversation shifted after that into stories and small moments that slowly drained the tension from my shoulders.
At one point I poked at my food and admitted, “I almost didn’t come tonight because today was brutal and everything I did felt like it was for everyone else. ”
Sawyer listened carefully before responding. “I know that feeling,” she said quietly. “When no one stops to tell you you’ve done enough.”
My throat went tight unexpectedly as I looked down at the table.
“So, I’ll say it,” Sawyer added. “You did enough. More than enough. And you look like someone I want to sit across from at the end of the day.”
Heat crept up my cheeks as I tucked a strand of hair behind my ear.
“That’s… really nice of you.” I said.
Sawyer gave a small shrug. “It’s just true.”
When the check arrived, Sawyer reached for it without hesitation and simply said, “You’ve had a hell of a day. Let me buy you dinner.”
As we stood to leave, warm and full and buzzing from the easy conversation, I realized something quietly solid had shifted and I felt unexpectedly grateful that this was how the night had turned out.
* * *