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“Of course I do. Let me take you home and take care of you. No wonder you didn’t eat and you’re so sad.”
Wes places a kiss on my forehead. I take hold of his sleeves to keep him there. His kiss feels so good. His touch could heal anything. “I feel bad. Eli and Dylan went to all this trouble, and I ruined it.”
“Stop talking. You didn’t do anything. Your body is just doing what it does. Come on. Let’s tell them you’re not feeling well, and we can go.”
Wes curls me into his side before we return to where Dylan and Eli are trying not to listen to me melt down. I apologize again and again; each time being told I have nothing to apologize for. Wes calls a cab for us, so I don’t have to walk. He gets one last text in the car, which he replies to before he puts it on silent.
“It’s all handled, Babe. Do you want a bath? Couch? Bed? A gallon of ice cream?”
“Honestly? I want a tub of the most butter-filled salty popcorn you can find, meds, and you being my pillow or masseuse, whichever I need.”
His smile and another kiss on my temple are a great start.
Wes
While Hayley takes a long, hot shower, I prepare her wish list for tonight. I ran down to the theater on the corner and got that big tub of popcorn she wanted. I told the woman behind the counter what I needed it for and why. She made sure that there was extra butter and salt involved for good measure. She even gave me a large box of M&M’s on the house.
I know there’s a blanket of mine on the top shelf of the bedroom closet that’s her favorite. She always tells me it feels weighted. Hayley likes the calm it brings her. I think it’s one thing she needs that wasn’t named on the list.
I pull the blackout curtains in the bedroom and light a couple candles. I put the popcorn, candy, a large water bottle, and the medication she asked for on a tray at the corner of the bed. I’m fixing the pillows as she comes out wrapped in my robe. She’s dwarfed by the fabric.
“How did that shower feel?”
“Good. My body doesn’t feel as bad for the moment.” I watch as the aroma hits her. “Is that my popcorn? You went to the movie theater to get me popcorn?”
“I did. It’s what you asked for, right? Extra butter and salt. There is even chocolate for a bonus.” She pulls the sleeves up over her hands and starts crying again. “Hey. No. This was supposed to make you happy. Didn’t I make you happy?”
I wrap her up in my arms. My hand slides down her still wet head to anchor her to my chest. “I am happy. These tears aren’t sad. I mean, my emotions are all over the place, but what you’re doing right now is exactly what I need.”
“All right then, Babe,” I lift her up into my arms, “you’re going to lie in this bed and not move for anything unless you have to. I will be your fetch and step man for the next twenty-four hours.”
“You don’t have to do that, Wes. I can tell you’re tired too.”
“That’s okay. Don’t worry about me. I’ll sleep when you sleep. Would you like the television on? We could watch your sappy movies if you’d like.”
“I would just like to talk and have you touch me until we fall asleep. Maybe lock up so if we both drift off it won’t matter?”
“I will. Just rest. I’ve got you.”
I give her a smile as I leave the room. It’s like the universe knew I was out of her sight because when I checked the phone again, I had one missed call from my boss and two missed texts from Hannah. I promised Hayley I was here for her. I won’t look now. I hope this balancing act gets easier. Right now, I’d even grade myself at an F.
Chapter Four
Dylan
I like the big-stick energy the chair at the head of the boardroom table provides. I make sure to get into the room before everyone arrives to make sure it’s just the way I like it. It’s my way of harnessing the passion that is my husband and his family. It gives me a boost, especially when I’m giving the most important presentation of my career to date.
This isn’t an account I’m working on or representing. This is about ideas that were born from my head, in effect, I’m showing me. Today is everything important to me. It combines my vision, dance, and helping others—along with adding another layer—my own layer to the Sawyer name. If I said I didn’t feel the pressure, I’d be lying.
I close my eyes in Eli’s chair and start visualizing how this hour will go and what the outcome will bring. Eli won’t be here, which can have its positives and negatives. It’s one less person in my corner, but it doesn’t toss our connection in anyone’s faces. By anyone, I mean Elyse Nordby.
I know she has to be here. I do. But I was hoping that she’d be otherwise detained or simply unable to attend. Wouldn’t you know that she was the first to respond? Skye knows my issues with her. She came and sat with me, at the end of the day yesterday, in a mockup of twenty questions.
Skye asked some of the bitchiest or toughest questions she could think of, just to see how I could or would react. It was a great exercise, not only because I could hear what that woman could possibly say and it wouldn’t be the first time in front of everyone, but also, we laughed about how absurd Skye could be.
That memory is the last one rolling through my head as the attendees start to enter the room. I have packets laid at each spot, along with treats in the middle of the conference table. That was a hint from Andy. He told me that you can’t think ill of someone who is willing to give you chocolate. I love that man so much.
I also wish I could have made assigned seating for the meeting. It would have given me another advantage. I could have decided to place Elyse at the opposite end farthest from me, or in a keep your enemies closer event, sat her to my side. It wouldn’t have been left to chance. Chance brought her in the door second to last. There are two chairs left: the one to my right and the one on the end.
