Page 20 of Infinite as They Come
He just barely nodded, head turning to face me. His lips grazed against mine before I heard his brush clatter to the table, his strong arms circling around me as he drew me in to him. He buried his face in my neck again, one of his hands resting against my back, firm and solid as he mumbled out an, “I love you, Holly.”
I said it back, eyes slowly closing, the sharp scent of paint that usually brought me comfort suddenly making my stomach turn a little. I wished so badly I could take away his pain, his heartache, his worry. But I couldn’t.
No click of the fingers would wipe away this mess to make it all better.
Chapter 6
Holly
Me and Sawyer never finished that painting, but I liked looking at it. The house he made, all intricate and perfect, my unbalanced sun and uneven stripe of blue along the top. It had since dried, my fingers coasting along the sides of the house as I sat there on the bed with the canvas pad in my lap. It brought me a sense of peace that was very much needed since yesterday’s bombshell.
Sawyer had been so quiet since last night, so in his head. I hated it when he got in his head. Eyes flickering to the side, I eyed the open bathroom door, the sound of rushing water from the shower filling the room of the motel. Life suddenly felt like it was on pause. I had been looking forward to our escape across Texas, to seeing new places and things hand in hand with Sawyer, but that plan would have to be forgotten for now. It looked like we’d be staying in Austin for a little while. That was more important.
I jumped when Sawyer’s phone buzzed on the bed next to me, and my eyes widened when I saw that same number from yesterday. My foot tapped against the floor, my shaky hands suddenly planted either side of me on the bed. Sawyer was still in the shower…
Slowly, one hand crept towards the phone. I had heard just a few words from her. Barely a sentence. I had a feeling the same thing would happen: that she’d hang up and the call would go nowhere. I answered and pulled in an almost painful breath, his phone pressed to my ear as I forced out a, “Hello?”
There was silence, then a heavy breath, then more silence. I parted my lips, just about to speak up again when a warm voice filled my ears.
“Hi. Sorry. I’m sorry. I keep calling and hanging up and calling and hanging up and you’re probably tired of me doing that,” she said, voice soft as she laughed. It was choked sounding, though. Like she was doing it through tears.
My eyes landed on the door. The shower was still running. “It’s okay,” I said. “Um, Sawyer’s a little busy right now if you wanted to call back later? I can tell him you called.”
There was a long pause before she spoke again. “I’m sure he wants nothing to do with me. You know, when I saw that card, when I saw his name, I really thought I was dreaming. That I was just making it all up in my head, but… It’s him, right?”
I frowned for a second. “Card?”
“The card. The one you gave my son? To Spencer?”
Oh, God. My fingers found my forehead, trying to rub away at the headache I could already feel forming. That boy had been Sawyer’s brother. Half-brother. He had been talking to his brother that day and didn’t even know it. The thought made me press my fingers to my forehead firmer.
“Maybe it’s best if you talk to him,” I said. “If you want to call back in a little bit…”
“Are you…? I’m sorry, who are you?”
“Uh, his girlfriend.”
“Girlfriend. Oh, he really is so grown up now. I missed so much, didn’t I? I bet he hates me. I bet he doesn’t even want to talk to me. I’m sure you know that. I’m sure he told you that. That he’s not interested in speaking to me. Why would he be? I’m sure he never wants to speak to me. It’s okay if he never wants to see me again. Tell him I won’t hold it against him.”
I winced at her words. “It’s not like that…”
“I know me calling up out of the blue isn’t fair, but I saw his name on that card and I thought,that couldn’t be him, right?My son. My boy, who I guess isn’t a boy anymore. What are the chances that it’s him? But it’s him, isn’t it? It’s…”
“Yeah…” I toyed with the hem of my dress. “It’s him.”
“I would so love to talk to him. Properly. Face to face. But it’s just…” She trailed off, and I could practicallyfeelthe worry there in her voice. It was too thick to miss it. “I thought I’d be ready to talk to him and hear his voice, but I’m not, and it’s a lot easier talking to you. I can’t do it. Not today. I just can’t do it today. I just need some time.”
“Right.” I cleared my throat. “I understand.”
“But I have to, right? I need to talk to him. See him. His face… I just want to see his face. If I message you my address, could you ask him if he’ll come visit? Maybe in a few days, when I have time to just… process everything, and feel less… like this. Please just ask him. I would really love to see his face…”
I nodded. “I’ll ask for you.”
She breathed out shakily. “Thank you. I’ll… I’ll get out of your hair now, and maybe… Maybe he’ll want to see me too…”
“I’ll… I’ll ask,” I said again.
“Thank you. Thank you for picking up, for talking to me. I’ll see you. Hopefully. Maybe. Goodbye…”
