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Lauren and Aubrey show up right on time. I asked Lauren to come by and finalize her fabric choices, but once they enter my makeshift workshop in the cabin’s living room, we don’t talk much about the dresses, not for the lack of my attempts.
“But what else is new?” Aubrey asks after I point out how I’ve added equipment and necessities to the cabin. Both of the women are excited about how I’ve transformed this room. The last time they were here, I didn’t have all the samples, equipment, and forms arranged. With an almost childlike curiosity of seeing something so new and different for the first time, they ask me question after question about what does what and what step happens where. I entertain them, glad for the chance to talk about something I love. The process of designing a gown is a complex concept, though, and I do my best to steer them back to the samples I picked up in Denver.
“I got these from two shops in Denver,” I say as I hold out the two booklets to lay them on the coffee table. Lauren and Aubrey face me, seated together on the couch, while I wait in a chair, eager to stand and get moving the moment Lauren makes her choice. It’s so important for her to have this say in her dress. I feel confident in my hunch of what she’ll pick, but until I have her approval, I’m at a standstill.
“Denver, huh?” Aubrey’s tone is teasing once Lauren confirms her final picks.
Yes! Now I can go, go, go. Lauren nods, smiling wide with her decisions, and I sigh in relief that I’ve guided her well, so well that she feels good about the design. I no longer have to wonder, worry, and wait on her choices.
“Yeah, about Denver,” Lauren says coyly.
In our group texts thread, they’ve been hounding me for details, but it seems I’ll no longer have the ease of evasion here while they hang out.
“I…” I set aside my notebook and slump back in my chair. “Well, I slept with Sawyer in Denver.” I throw my hands up in a huge shrug. “There. The truth is out.”
Aubrey rubs her hands together. “Ooooh. I knew it!”
“Really?” Lauren laughs.
I nod. “Apparently, nowhere in Denver had more than one room available and—”
They break out into giggles, snorting over each other as they try to calm down enough to speak.
“Same thing happened to me…with Caleb,” Lauren says.
Aubrey points at herself. “Yep. Me and Dalton, too.”
I shake my head and laugh. I can’t stop smiling, even though this girl-talk thing is weird. It’s strange because I’ve never actually done it. I’ve been expecting them to turn their noses up at me for sleeping with Sawyer, maybe ready to slut shame me or something, but instead, they seem happy and extremely curious about him. If this is what kiss and tell is all about, it’s not so bad. Lauren and Aubrey are real friends—another first—and it’s too easy to giggle and chat right along with them.
Once they leave, though, after an hour of joking and sharing the minimal details about my hookup, the cabin seems overwhelmingly empty.
I close the door after them and lean on it as reality kicks in. It’s all well and good to do this girl talk with those two, but Sawyer is avoiding me. How can I sit here and giggle and smile about how great he made me feel when now, he’s doing the opposite? The lack of communication with him still hurts, and with every day that passes without him reaching out to me, another chunk of my heart cracks off and shrinks.
Or…I could reach out to him. I’ve never considered myself the kind of woman who chases after a man. It’s not my style, or at least it never has been. Now, as I think hard about why I’m still so eager and hopeful to reconnect with Sawyer, I wonder if I’ve never chased after a man because none of them have ever mattered as much as Sawyer does. I’ve never yearned for another guy. I’ve never woken up wondering about a man and or gone to bed missing one like I do with the rugged smartass who drove me to Denver.
Maybe I—
Knocks sound on the door. I’m still leaning my back against it, so the vibration against me, coupled with the closeness to the noise, has me jumping away in shock.
I peek out the window, seeing Aubrey driving away with Lauren. It’s not them, but my cousin. Dalton’s truck is parked in the gravel drive.
After I open the door, he enters and sighs at the mess I’ve made. No, not the mess. The excess of my creativity. Calling my workspace a mess feels too derogatory.
“Hi, Dalt.”
“Hey, Claire.” He walks closer to the dress forms, eyeing my preliminary progress.
“Lauren just chose her fabrics. So it’ll come together quickly now.”
“That’s great. And I love to hear you commit like that.”
I furrow my brow. Because I’m just out of school? Because I’m too young to know how to commit yet. Pu-leeze.
“I came by to talk about your return to New York.” He arches a brow at me expectantly before approaching the other dress form.
I shake my head and cross my arms.
“I’m against it, Claire. All of it. My lawyers are looking into what they can do on your behalf.”
