Page 124 of The Space Between Heartbeats
Do I even have a right to feel hurt? Betrayed? When I’ve done just as much or worse.
“Fine,” I say quietly, finally giving him what he wants to hear. “Not tonight. But soon.”
He reaches over and tucks my hair behind my ear, his thumb grazing my cheekbone after. “Thank you.”
Then he walks out the door without a glance back and I’m left feeling the same way I was before, except maybe even more confused.
I wait a few minutes before getting up to clean off and get dressed. Hoping that maybe he’ll come back. The lamp is still on. The sheets are still rumpled. The room smells like us and I wish he stayed.
Grief hits me hard in the chest. That feeling of longing, and feeling so utterly alone, like I’m the last person on earth.
Of course, the one person I want, the only person who understands, left me here like a used up stick of gum.
Owen wouldn’t leave me.
But then again, did I know the real Owen? Do I know anyone anymore?
I sit there feeling sorry for myself until I finally muster the energy to get up and get dressed. Why should I punish myself by staying in this room any longer?
My stomach chooses that moment to growl, reminding me that I’m still a person who needs to eat, even when it’s the last thing I want to do.
I’ll grab takeout from the restaurant downstairs and go home to wallow in my misery with some shitty TV. It won’t take long, and hopefully I can sneak out unnoticed.
Ten minutes. That’s all it should take.
Chapter 28
Sawyer
Somehow, I make it past the front desk unnoticed, and head down the narrow hallway that leads from the lobby to the restaurant. It smells like garlic bread and rich marinara mixed with carpet cleaner. A scent I regret inhaling.
When I make it to the hostess stand, I sigh in relief. I’d hate to get caught in a lie when everyone at work’s been so nice. I may be a piece of shit, but I do have a conscience.
Maya is at the stand tonight. We’re not close, more the kind of acquaintances who smile at each other in the parking lot, know each other’s names and leave it at that. Usually that’s enough, but tonight the second she sees me, her face opens into a full smile.
Fuck, I’m in for it.
“Sawyer, hey. Are you eating alone? Do you want a table or?—”
“Takeout, actually.” I return the smile with everything I have, which isn’t much. “Just something quick.”
“Of course, of course.” She hands me a menu, leaning against the stand. “How are you doing? I’ve been meaning to ask, with everything that happened…”
“I’m okay.” My practiced response comes out on cue. “Just tired. You know how it is.”
She nods, her face sympathetic, and launches into a full-blown conversation about her cousin who went through a loss last year, while I stand there and hold my smile in place, reading the same three menu items over and over. I need the simplest possible thing. Something I don’t have to think about. I don’t even fucking care about eating at this point, but I’m here already so I may as well do what I came here to do.
I interrupt her. “I’ll take the club sandwich. To go.”
“Oh. Perfect.” She takes the menu back. “It’ll be about fifteen minutes. I’ll come find you.”
“Thank you.” The relief when she walks away is wild. I’m so done with this day.
I find a bench near the entrance and pull out my phone. Fifteen minutes. I can do fifteen minutes.
For some fucked up reason, I open up Owen’s text thread. Why not make myself feel even worse, right?
I scroll up until I reach a random day, and reread his words.
