In my heart, I wanted to believe there was no way she could be right.
Reese cared about me. He wouldn’t hurt me. He wouldn’t lie to me.
But even as I repeated those words, I felt the doubt in them.
Reese said Jennifer kissed him, that he’d pulled away, told her to get out of his car. But then how did she know about him and Charlie? If I was the only person he’d ever told? Did he lie about that, about me being the only one?
Did he lie about what happened with Jennifer, too?
He wouldn’t lie to you, I tried again, but every muscle in my body was wound tight at the prospect.
Because as much as I hated it, what Jennifer said made sense.
Reese had told me about Blake, about how she loved him, gave him all of her and still he couldn’t see past Charlie to give her what she wanted from him. And I’d been there when Charlie had shown up to his place — not once, but twice. He assured me nothing had happened, but how was I to know that for sure? Maybe that day she came to see him, she only left quickly because I was there. And during the storm? Charlie could have been there for hours before I showed up.
Maybe that’s why he’d been in such a mood.
Maybe it was why he’d kissed me.
He wanted relief from the pain, from the loss of her, and he found it easily in me. I’d all but thrown myself on him that night.
I shook my head, squeezing my eyes shut to try to stop the thoughts. But they roared on, a blistering fire searing every other attempt at rationalizing the situation.
He wouldn’t lie to you. He wouldn’t use you. He doesn’t want to get rid of you. What you have is real. Trust him, not her.
It was all I could do to keep breathing through the rest of my shift, repeating those words over and over until they quieted everything else. After work, we’d be together. Reese would take me home, and we’d be alone, and I could ask him for myself. He’d hold me and kiss me and silence my anxiety for good.
He’d make it all better. I knew he would.
I just had to make it through the next three hours.
Reese
I made it.
It might have been the slowest night ever at The Kinky Starfish, which was sort of an oxymoron, since it was busy the entire time. But knowing I’d have Sarah in my home after, knowing the exciting news I had to tell her? It made every single second drag by like a year. By the time we finally made it into my car, all I could do was sigh with relief.
I made it.
I reached over the console when we were on the road, resting my hand on Sarah’s thigh with a gentle squeeze. “Are you hungry?” I asked. “How do you feel about me whipping up some of my famous spaghetti when we get home.”
When we get home.
I loved the sound of that.
Sarah glanced at me, a ghost of a smile touching her lips before she looked out the passenger side window again. “I’m not really hungry.”
I frowned. “Alright. No spaghetti, then.”
She didn’t respond, and an uneasy silence fell over us as we hit the highway.
“How was your night?” I asked.
She shrugged. “Busy.”
I nodded, shifting my hold on the steering wheel. When we’d climbed in my car after work, waiting until everyone was gone from the back lot, I thought I’d felt something off. Sarah wasn’t smiling, or bouncing around the way she had been the first half of her shift. She was quiet, and reserved, and seemed to be lost in her own little universe.
I wondered if something happened, if she heard more about Wolfgang getting his award. The thought made me squeeze the wheel tighter, jaw aching as I reached forward to turn on the music. Kings of Leon filled the silence between us, and I hoped giving her some space on the way home would help her clear her mind.
I couldn’t go back and undo what he did to her.
That was the hardest pill to swallow. If I could go back in time and change anything, it would be that — and I had plenty of things in my own life that I should have wanted to use my go back in time card for. Still, nothing mattered as much as she did.
But I didn’t have a time machine.
All I could do was be here for her now, help her see how beautiful she was — inside and out. I could hold her, and kiss her, and talk to her, and listen to her. I could believe in her and her dreams. Randall had tried to remind me of my role in her life, and whether he agreed with it or not, this was my new role.
All I wanted was to help her feel whole again, the same way she’d done for me.
When we pulled up to the house, I threw the car in drive and jumped out, jogging over to open Sarah’s door for her. She smiled, letting me help her out, but then her hands immediately slid into the pockets of her work vest. I held my hand at the small of her back, not quite touching her, just guiding her inside.
Rojo barked as I fiddled with the key, and when I finally got the door open, she bounded out, nearly knocking Sarah over in an attempt to lick her to death. Sarah finally smiled at that, bending to rub Rojo behind the ears before the dog sprinted off the porch and out to the grass to pee. As soon as she was done, she bolted back inside, and was already chewing on her favorite toy when Sarah and I made it into the foyer.
I chuckled, watching Rojo from the doorway. “You know, for how much I fought you on getting that damn dog, I can’t imagine my life without her now.”
Sarah’s eyes sparkled, but her smile was weak. “I told you so.”
I dropped my wallet and keys on the table, turning to pull Sarah into my arms as soon as my hands were free. She was stiff, arms at her side as mine wrapped around her waist.
“Hey,” I whispered, dropping my forehead to hers. She closed her eyes at the contact, a heavy breath flowing through her chest. “Are you okay?”
She swallowed, a small nod her only response, eyes still closed.
“Sarah?” I asked, pulling back so I could see her.
She opened her eyes, and I hated the way she looked at me in that moment — like she was unsure, like she didn’t want to be in my arms. I knew the look well. It had to be hard for her just as it was for me, to let someone in, to trust that someone could make the pain go away.
I didn’t know why she was hurting, but I hoped my news would make her smile again.
“Can I kiss you?” I asked, voice soft and low.
She blew out a long breath, shaking her head before she finally smiled — really smiled. “Yes,” she breathed, and her arms moved from her side to wrap around my neck. I tugged her closer, searching her eyes before I lowered my lips gently to hers.
I sucked in a breath at the contact, at the sweet connection of her lips on mine. They were so soft, giving, plump and perfect. I took my time, peppering her with soft, slow kisses until she submitted more, opening her mouth, tongue seeking mine. And when I’d kissed her thoroughly, I pulled back on a grin, and she shook her head, burying it in my chest.
“I’m sorry,” she mumbled. “I just… I had a rough night. I’m all up in my head.”
I kissed the head she referred to with a chuckle. “It’s okay. You are not required to be happy all the time, and I’m here for both the good and the bad days. Okay?”
She nodded against my chest, pulling back on a smile. “I lied. I do want spaghetti.”
I laughed at that, sliding my hand down until it wrapped around hers. “Come on,” I said, tugging her toward the kitchen. “Let me feed my girl.”