Page 128 of Infatuated as They Come
“Oh my God, are you okay?” I sat up straight, putting the sandwich down and pressing my hands to his chest.
“I’ve been in worse fights.”
“But are you alright? Are you hurt? What did he do?”
“I’m fine, princess. Trust me, that was nothing.”
“What a mess,” I muttered. “I was so upset when you didn’t show up last night, and there you were dealing with that. Are you sure you’re okay?”
“It’s not like you knew. It’s fine.”
“I’m sorry about everything. Your dad and my dad and… him making sure you got sent to prison,” I mumbled as anger found its way to me again. “I know you would never do what he accused you of, Sawyer.”
Deep frown on his face, he brushed a thumb against my cheek. “No, I wouldn’t. Would rather hurt myself than ever hurt you, Holly. But I’ve been fucking up in other ways. I keep on making mistakes. I keep… I don’t know, trying to be everything I can, but there are days when that doesn’t feel like enough. But I made you feel lonely. There I was thinking I was doing the right thing, but really I was making everything worse. Why do I keep making everything worse?”
“I’m not asking you to give anything up, Sawyer. Especially not something you love. If you want to spend all your spare time at the studio, then you’re free to do that,” I said. “I won’t hold you back from anything.”
“It’s not what you think. That’s not why I’ve been there so often the last month.” His eyes closed for a long moment, thumb still grazing against my skin. “I miss seeing you. I miss being with you. Just waking up to youis so special to me. And you falling asleep in my arms is the best feeling in the world. I want you all the time, but sometimes I don’t know what I’m supposed to do with a girl like you. I don’t know what my next move should be with you, because every time I think I’m doing something right, I keep making things worse.”
My heart twisted at his words. “A girl like me…”
“A girl like you,” he murmured, leaning in to press a soft kiss to my lips. “My perfect, beautiful girl. How did I get so lucky? I just wanna make you happy, just wanna make you feel loved. I love you so, so much, Holly. I know I need to show you. Iwillshow you. I’ll fix this, I will. I need more… balance. You and painting and work, but you come first. Don’t ever think that you don’t, that you’re not the first thing on my mind every morning.”
“But your art should come first, so if you’re happier being at the studio, then I can’t fight you on that.” I let out a long sigh. “Your art’s important. I wouldn’t ever want to take that away from you. If that’s where you want to be all the time, then I can’t stop you. Iwon’tstop you. If it’s making you happy, then I’d never ask you to stay away from it.”
“I love painting, but I love you more. You probably think I’ve been down there making some fuckin’ Picasso masterpiece or something.”
“Whatareyou making? Can I at least know that?”
“Well, it’s Christmas now, so I guess there’s no point keeping it from you. The reason I was stuck at the studio so long was because I was busy makin’ you your gift, so I kinda had to keep it a secret.”
I frowned. “My gift?”
“Your Christmas gift. Which is apparently broken now, so all those days without you ending up being for absolutely nothing. See what I mean when I say I have bad luck?”
“That’s what you were doing this whole time?”
“You said you never get handmade gifts,” he said, jumping off the truck and moving to the front of it. When he came back, he had that ruined box in his hands, gently placing it on my lap. “Thought I’d make you something you could keep forever. Merry Christmas, Holly.”
With gentle fingers, I pulled the wrapping paper off, revealing a pink box and lid that were dented right in the middle. I moved just as carefully with the lid, revealing layers and layers of pink tissue paper that I softly parted, and then I had to hold in a cry at what I was seeing.
Right there in the middle of the mess sat a perfectly unbroken flower made of glass, the petals a gorgeous, vibrant purple and the long stem a pretty green. It sat there in the center, amongst a sea of shattered pieces of purple and green glass. Just like the ones he had picked for me on my birthday, the one he had placed in my hair while the others were crushed under the foot of his father. And once again, a singular one had made it.
“This is for me?” I asked, gripping the box tighter. It all looked so detailed. So intricate. Five purple petals, some curved to the side that little bit like there was some invisible wind gently making them dance to the side. The glass gleamed under the barely there winter sun. One still shining.One still unbroken.
“Yeah, it’s for you. Looks like only one survived,” he said. “At least that’s something.”
“Youmadethis for me? From scratch?”
“Yeah, honey. I wish the others weren’t broken. Sorry it took so long. I had never made anything with glass before, so it took a few tries, you know? Just wanted it to be perfect. I made a bunch but I didn’t like the look of them, so I had to keep on making more until I got it right. Until it was good enough to give it to you. I didn’t want to give you something you didn’t love.”
“You spent all that time on me?” I couldn’t fight back the wavering in my voice, my finger stroking at the glass stem, the texture all cool and smooth. Then my eyes found the fragments of glass that framed the one that withstood the angry hands of my father. A boquet shattered.
There was warmth spreading all over my body as I swallowed the lump in my throat, vision that tiny bit blurry as I did my best to keep my tears at bay. Sparkling jewels and designer dresses didn’t mean a thing, not when someone gave you something that took patience and time. Not when I could have sworn Ifeltthe love Sawyer put into something he made justfor me and only me. “No one ever thinks of me the way you do…”
“I hope you like it.”
Carefully, I put the box down before turning to Sawyer, pouncing on him right then and there. His lips pressed to mine, his hands on my waist and mine in his hair, so eager to feel him close after last night’s disaster. After everything.
