Page 114 of Sparks Fly

I never felt that way with Sawyer.

I didn’t brace myself around her. I didn’t monitor my tone or edit my words. I didn’t leave our time together feeling smaller or drained or like I had completed a task. With Sawyer, I left steady. Full. Like my nervous system had finally learned how to unclench.

That was when it clicked.

I wasn’t hiding Sawyer because I was ashamed of her. I was hiding her because my mother would make our relationship about herself. About access, questions, and control. Like proximity entitled her to ownership. I didn’t want Sawyer folded into that yet. I didn’t want her turned into a topic or a project.

I wanted to keep her where she was. With me.

Still I felt a little guilty about it, and I hated that I couldn’t just shout it from the rooftops yet.

* * *

Sunday I went to lunch with Benji, and that put everything into a bit more perceptive for me. The way talking to him always did.

We went to the same café we always did, it was near the river with mismatched chairs and a menu that never changed. The repetition of it made everything feel easier.

We started catching up right away. Work first, a deal that finally closed for me. A supplier who had messed up a major steel order for him. I pretended Sawyer hadn’t already told me the exact same story. Fries and iced coffee, even though the air was starting to turn cool in the October air.

Halfway through the meal, he looked at me over the rim of his cup. “You seem lighter.”

“I do?”

“Yeah. Nothing dramatic… just different.”

I stirred my coffee even though it didn’t need stirring. He didn’t push, which was part of why talking to him always felt safe.

“I guess seeing someone I care about has changed me.”

He smiled. “I really am happy for you.”

“Is it weird?”

“That you’re dating my work partner slash best friend?” He raised an eyebrow. For a second, he looked so much like our father that I almost laughed.

“That I’m dating a woman,” I clarified. “Does that make you uncomfortable?”

“No.” He shook his head. “Neither one of those things do, for the record. I’m more than fine with you and Sawyer. I like seeing you finally let yourself have this.”

“I’m trying.” I looked down at my coffee. “I still haven’t told Mom and Dad.”

“I get it. Tiff knows, right?”

“Yeah. Tiff and Rowan.”

“And how did that feel?”

“Good,” I admitted. “Easy.”

“Then maybe that’s enough for now. Start with the people you trust.”

I nodded, but the guilt was still there. “I feel like I have this whole other life where I pretend Sawyer doesn’t exist. I always know she does, obviously, but when Lilly or the girls ask questions, I deflect. When people at work talk about their partners, I don’t join in.”

Benji considered that for a moment. “You probably can’t keep your worlds separate forever.”

“I know.”

“And eventually, being hidden might start to hurt her,” he said carefully. “Not because you owe anyone a big announcement, but because she’ll want to feel like she belongs in your life.”