Chapter 31
Charles stayed on the phone for a long time with Kathy.
Sawyer sat on the sofa, listening.
Something was hurting her, needling her, sharp and uncomfortable. She understood the pain was emotional, not physical. But it felt physical. Her heart was like a piece of paper, ripping into two halves.
I’ve been thinking, she’d told Nick. I think maybe New York exists on multiple planes.
She pictured Nick coming to pick her up.
She pictured Charles going to the hospital alone. Holding his sobbing mother as they signed paperwork, standing next to Ed’s bed as the hospital workers somberly unhooked him from the machines.
She thought about that day in the park, Ed’s trust in telling her their family troubles, his concern for his son’s fear of making the same mistakes, his concern for his wife, wanting her to have everything she ever wanted, and his concern for Sawyer’s happiness.
You’re my family, too, you know, Ed had said.
She pictured Charles going to the hospital alone, until she really couldn’t.
I guess it’s a lucky thing I don’t want you to be like anyone but yourself, Nick had said.
She glanced at the clock and saw that it was already five minutes to two o’clock.
Sawyer knew what she had to do.
She went to the bathroom and splashed some water on her face, then went to the bedroom and retrieved something from off the top of the dresser; she would need her ring to see Kathy. Then she quietly let herself out of the apartment, went downstairs, and sat on the stoop to wait.
It was hard not to think nostalgically about the last time she’d sat on the stoop waiting for Nick—the day of the lake.
She already felt the hole in her heart, despite the fact that he hadn’t even pulled up yet.
Moments later, at two o’clock almost on the dot, the familiar shape of the old Mercedes-Benz appeared, turning onto the far end of the street. Music floated out the open windows as Nick pulled to the curb.
He emerged from the car with a wide grin spread on his face.
Sawyer was touched by the grin—by how sincere and hopeful and innocent it was. Not a grin you saw often on an adult, let alone on someone as sharp and cynical as Nick. For a fleeting second, Sawyer felt moved by the thought that what they’d had together had been very rare and utterly real.
But as he came around the driver’s side of the car to the curb, the smile vanished, and Nick froze.
His eyes looked around the stoop for some sign of her bags, then searched her face for an answer. His eyes fell to her hand, the glint of her ring. Neither of them spoke a word, but Sawyer could see: he comprehended it all—everything.
She wasn’t coming.
Nick studied her a moment. He raised his eyebrows.
Sawyer gave a small, terse, apologetic shake of her head. She felt her throat tighten and tears welling up in her eyes, hot, burning with salt.
She’d never seen him look so crushed. It felt unnatural, like she was seeing something she shouldn’t see. The pain and betrayal in his expression was like a knife twisting in Sawyer’s heart. She wanted to tell him her reasons why…and she already knew they didn’t really matter. As he stood there, she watched as his wounded expression slowly hardened into something else.
He leveled his gaze to meet hers squarely, pursed his lips, and gave a single nod of acknowledgment.
Then he turned to get back in the car.
After that, Nick didn’t make eye contact with her as he pulled away. The music was loud and he dropped his foot on the gas. In the next second, he’d whipped the Mercedes-Benz around the opposite corner of the street and vanished.
Sawyer stared after him. There was nothing to see. Only the empty street.
Something broke inside her. Her muscles gave way, her face crumpled, and she slumped onto the stone stairs of the stoop. She cried for a minute, her body racked with sobs, that tight feeling in her lungs and throat so acute she gasped for air and thought she might get sick on the stoop.
But in the next moment, Sawyer forced her feelings back down to the pit of her stomach. She panted until she could catch her breath, and forced herself to pull it back together.
When she was finally calm again, she breathed evenly until she could stand up from the stoop again. She smoothed down her skirt and hair, then wiped the tearstains from her face and composed herself.
Then, she turned to go back upstairs and give everything she could to help Charles through the death of his father, a man she had promised to love like family.