Here With Me

“Hey, Mindy.” His voice is different. I’ve heard it so many times. I’ve heard it in my dreams, but never this way, confident and possessive. It’s fucking sexy as hell, and I feel the little hairs rise on my arms.

“Hi, Sawyer.” My voice is quiet, and the way he looks at me lights up my entire body.

“Noel said you went to Dallas.”

“She did.” Ma stalks to a box in the kitchen and takes out plastic serving utensils. “I thought I’d have to bribe her to come home. Talk to her, Sawyer. She always listens to you. Tell her she needs to move home.”

His gaze doesn’t waver, and I have to blink away. I go to a box sitting on my coffee table and take out some books I’ve never read, stacking them on the empty shelves.

“I think it’s time for her to decide what she wants.” He turns to my mom. “Mindy’s a grown woman now.”

Emotion flashes from my stomach to my cheeks. I didn’t expect to feel this way hearing him say those words. It’s like things between us have moved to a different level. Blinking fast, I do my best to summon the strong independence, the fierceness I cultivated the last six months. I am a grown woman now. And he’s a grown man.

“Thank you.” Clearing my throat, I manage to sound less like a flustered girl. “I like having my own place.”

Ma returns to the living room, putting her hands on her hips. “I’ve got to get home and start dinner. I’m making enough for both of us.” She points at me. Her expression melts into an adoring smile when she turns to my guest. ”You come and have dinner with us one night, okay?”

He leans down and gives my mom a warm hug. “I’ll be there any time you’ll have me.”

“Such a good boy.” She grins and pats his cheek gently. “We can do it next week.”

She gives me a pointed look before she heads out the door. I close it behind her, letting out a frustrated noise. “That woman, I swear.”

Now I’m standing with my back to the door, and Sawyer is in the middle of my living room looking like the best thing I’ve seen in half a year. It’s late, and the string lights I put over the curtains create a magical effect… I could step forward, reach out my hand, and…

Stop.

I’m not going there.

“So you’re back from Nashville?” I turn and go to the kitchen. I can’t decide if I should start a pot of coffee or just open a bottle of w

ine.

“Yeah, what a coincidence. I got in this morning, and Noel said you were moving back this weekend.”

“Funny. Are you… okay?”

His expression relaxes, and he actually smiles. “I am. I’ve spent the last six months in pretty intense therapy, a lot of shit I didn’t even know existed. I’ve started meditating. It’s weird. I used to hate getting up at six a.m. I mean hate.” He emphasizes the word. “Now I don’t mind it so much.”

Hesitating in the kitchen I’m struck first by how many words he just said about nothing in particular. “That’s… wow.”

This man I love, this man I’ve known all my life, is standing in my living room telling me how he feels. I’m like Charlie winning one of Willie Wonka’s golden tickets. I’m inside the chocolate factory, and he’s telling me how everything works.

Then he smiles. “You’re so different now. You’re as beautiful as ever, but I can tell. You’re more confident.”

Energy filters through my body with every heartbeat, but I hone in on his statement. “Yes, I am.”

Mrs. Irene said the day you put your head on the pillow knowing you don’t need him… I’m not his baby girl anymore, but I’m not sure I don’t need him. It’s a different need now.

It’s a choice.

Turning to another box, I open the lid and pull out a painting. My breath catches at the sight, and I want to shove the canvass back inside. It’s too late. He sees it.

“What’s that?” Closing the space between us, he turns it over so he can see the painting.

Nights when I couldn’t sleep, I’d paint, and one night when I was angry with him, I started this portrait of a square-jawed Superman. Only, instead of the blue and red Superman outfit, this guy is in a clown costume. His features are so clearly Sawyer’s, I feel my shoulders rise.

“It’s nothing. Art therapy.” I push the canvas back in the box. “Working out my aggressions.”