Page 72 of Sparks Fly

The three dots appeared almost immediately.

Sawyer: Productive. Finished up a railing and spent most of the day in the shop. You?

Just seeing her name loosened something in my chest. I tucked my legs beneath me and sank deeper into the cushions.

Me: Work this morning was good. Took a half day to go bridal shopping. Completely exhausting. Now watching something mindless and pretending this is recovery.

Sawyer: Sounds like you need a break.

I smiled as the tension in my shoulders eased.

Me: I kept wishing I was somewhere else today.

Me: With you.

When my screen lit up again, I grabbed it quickly.

Sawyer: Funny. I’ve been thinking about stealing you away this weekend.

My eyebrows lifted.

Me: Stealing me where?

Sawyer: Mystic, maybe. Somewhere quiet near the water. Just us.

I leaned my head against the couch and let the idea settle.

Me: That sounds perfect.

I set my phone on my knee and looked around the apartment.

I loved Lilly. I wanted her wedding to be everything she had dreamed of, and I would survive every glittery tumbler and Charleston itinerary if it made her happy.

Today had made the divide impossible to ignore. With my friends, I locked my phone and lied. With Sawyer, I could be barefoot, exhausted, messy, and honest. I didn’t have to smile at the right time or offer the version of myself everyone expected.

I didn’t want less of my friends.

I wanted more of myself.

And I wanted my friends to know me.

With three weeks until Charleston, there was finally a small opening in the wedding calendar. One weekend that could belong to me.

To us.

For the first time all day, I felt like I could breathe.

* * *

Wednesday morning came with a quiet kind of clarity.

I stayed in bed a few minutes longer than usual, scrolling through Airbnb listings in Mystic. I bookmarked three places: a minimalist cottage on the water, a cozy house with a fireplace and hot tub, and a converted loft filled with local art.

All of them felt possible.

By five forty-five, I was at the gym, running six miles while Taylor Swift and Lady Gaga pounded through my headphones.

By seven thirty, I was at my desk. Cassidy walked in with a Starbucks cold brew and set it beside me without a word.