“Good. I’ll just go shut everything down in my office and lock up,” Saxon says with a small smile. I know he’s thinking about my comment too.
I wonder how long it will be before everything doesn’t remind me of Nate. A time when the memories don’t bring soul-crushing pain with them.
Forcing a large smile to ease his mind, I say, “I’ll just go freshen up and meet you by the elevator.”
He nods as he leaves my office. I shut down my computer, grab my purse and lunch bag out of my bottom drawer, and head to the bathroom.
Throwing my bags on the bathroom counter, I start searching through my oversized purse for my hairbrush. I quickly pull the brush through my loose curls and tease the roots. Throwing the hairbrush back in my bag, I lightly powder my face and apply a shimmering layer of pink gloss before I gather all of my bags and head out to meet Saxon.
As I’m walking out of the bathroom, straightening my black skirt, I look up to see him leaning against the wall, one ankle resting over the other and his strong arms crossed over his chest. He has a small smile on his lips, and I can’t help but wonder what he is thinking.
“Ready?” I ask as I pass him to head to the elevator.
Saxon steps in line next to me. He reaches across me and pushes the down button. Stepping into the elevator, we ride it to the basement parking lot in silence. It’s not awkward; it’s comfortable. As a matter of fact, this whole week has been comfortable. It’s actually been nice and uplifting. We haven’t spent this much time together since college, rarely seeing each other, other than at work functions or on special family occasions.
The elevator doors open and Saxon and I both head out straight to our cars. As I unlock and throw my bags in I’m about to sit when Saxon calls out, “Aren’t you coming with me?”
“What will I do with my car? Will you drop me back off here after?”
“You’re not driving home that late. I’ll drop you home,” he says with no negotiation in his voice.
“What about my car?”
“I’ll have it dropped off tomorrow,” he answers calmly.
“What if I need it tomorrow?” I ask, looking for any excuse.
“I’ll have it there before you even wake up.”
He stands there staring at me, waiting for me to make up my mind. I look at my car then back at him.
I can’t be bothered arguing with him, knowing he will get what he wants anyway, and I’m not even sure why I’m being disagreeable. I lean in, grab my purse, lock up and head towards his Alpha Romeo. He gives me a cocky smile as he holds the passenger door open. I get in, rolling my eyes at him as I sink down into the seat.
We drive to the restaurant, again in silence. Saxon leans forward to turn up the volume on the radio. Powderfinger’s “These Days” begins to play.
A small smile plays on my lips. I love Powderfinger. I had first discovered them as a moody pre-teen and have loved them ever since. I listen to the lyrics and realise how real they are for me at the moment.
An unwelcomed tear slides down my cheek. Life has definitely not turned out how I planned. Only months ago I was planning a family with the man of my dreams. Now I’m all alone, trying to work out where the hell I’m supposed to be and where the hell I fit in.
After such a successful week this is not how I wanted it to end, with a reminder of my pain... of my reality. Was this week all an act? Did I really accomplish anything?
Tears flow freely down my cheeks now and I forget for a second that I’m in the car with Saxon until I see his hand rise slightly off the gear stick. It lingers in the air for a second, as if he doesn’t know what to do with it. I glance over and can see the indecision on his face.
Blinking, he swiftly brings his hand to the steering wheel and skips a couple songs. Suddenly the strong chords of Powderfinger’s “(Baby I’ve Got You) On My Mind” flows through the car.
“That’s better,” he says.
Wiping the tears from my face, I can’t help but smile at how sweet he is for not making a big deal out of it.
Once the song finishes, a sigh escapes me. “I love Powderfinger.”
“Really?”
“Why are you surprised?”
“Well, I know Nate loved them. He was the one who got me into them, but I figured you for a pop kind of girl.”
“Ha.” I laugh sarcastically. “I’m sure he claimed them as his favourite band, but Nate had never even heard of them before he met me,” I reply smugly. “And I am a pop kind of girl.” I smile defiantly.
Saxon gives me a small grin and nods.
We park on the busy street at the front of the restaurant, and I realise my makeup is probably all over the place. I quickly pull down the visor and check my face. It’s not too bad, and I’m grateful for the eighty-dollar makeup setting spray Rach got me onto.