Page 83 of The Space Between Heartbeats
No.
I swallow hard. “Yeah, I guess so.”
She takes my hand, brushing her thumb over the ring again. “He really loved you, you know. Whatever else happened, whatever mistakes were made...he loved you.”
I close my eyes, picturing Owen’s face the last time he told me he loved me. An ache fills the empty spaces in my chest. “I know.”
Mom doesn’t seem to notice how my voice breaks and I’m glad. She grabs her purse and opens the door. “Alright, let’s hit the road. I want to avoid traffic through Main Street.”
I take one last look around my tiny apartment. The unmade bed, Owen’s sweatshirt crumpled on my pillow, the dishes in the sink I haven’t had the energy to wash. This is my life now. This small, lonely space that I can barely afford, filled with reminders of everything I lost.
I grab my purse and follow Mom out the door.
Chapter 19
Sawyer
I’m grateful Mom offered to drive to Ashford. I know I’m not in the headspace to get behind the wheel. But God, she can’t stand a minute of comfortable silence. I’m a stretched out rubber band, seconds away from snapping.
“Aunt Linda’s coming up from Florida next week. When I told her you don’t get discounts on rooms at the hotel, she about lost her mind. Don’t worry, she’s staying with me, but she wants to visit your father. Can you believe my own sister still has a relationship with that man?”
“Uh, huh,” I mutter, staring out the window, barely hearing her, trying to focus on my moody Spotify playlist instead.
Nothing can stop me from thinking about walking into that church. Seeing Knox. Seeing Ella beside him, her hands on his body, consoling him.
Does she know?
The text messages flash through my mind on repeat.We need to tell her...tell both of them.
I’m going to confront her today, at the luncheon. I’ll pull her aside, show her Owen’s text thread, and flat out ask what they meant. Finally get some peace of mind and put all these suspicions to rest.
My phone buzzes. It’s a text from Knox. I swipe it open and swallow hard.
Knox: You ok?
My thumb hovers over the keyboard but I don’t know how to answer that.
“Sawyer?” Mom’s voice breaks through my thoughts. “Did you hear me?”
“What?”
“Should we have brought flowers? I didn’t even think of it since we got home from the lake so late.”
I shake my head. “I’m sure Victoria ordered an entire garden’s worth. It’s fine.”
She bristles at Victoria’s name. “You’re right. I’m overthinking for no reason. How did she sound when you talked to her?”
These are the moments I’d give anything for a sibling. Someone to take their half of her rambling and energy.
“I didn’t talk to her. She texted me the information.”
Mom’s hands tighten on the wheel. “Oh. Well, that’s rude.”
“Mom, please.”
She frowns but doesn’t push the conversation any further. We’re only a few turns away from the church now, thank God. It’s being held at St. Mary’s, the same church in historic downtown Ashford that our families went to growing up. I can still feel the pain from kneeling on those wooden pews as a kid. Can still remember Owen goofing off at CCD, getting scolded by the nuns. We were the Christmas and Easter type families, but our parents were big on the “getting your sacraments so you have choices as an adult” agenda.
It’s been years since I’ve been back. The last time I stepped foot in a church was at my grandmother’s services, but that wasin Florida. The vibes are different down there. The buildings are newer, the congregation more welcoming.
