Maybe he can forgive me. Maybe he can stay and work through this with me. Maybe he’s willing to accept all I can give.
I clear the thoughts from my head as I focus on him: his tight hold on me, his strong body curled around my soft one.
There’s a light scent of sweat emanating from him, as if he’s had a light workout. Maybe he took a walk to clear his head or something.
His nose is buried in my neck, taking large breaths like he is breathing me, taking me in. “I love you, Brooke. I always have and I always will,” he whispers.
He’s always loved me? Always? Relief flows through me. He might actually forgive me. My body relaxes at the thought of it, and I fall into a deep sleep in my new favourite place in the world.
Waking up without Saxon was confusing. Confusing, cold, lonely, and empty. Maybe he wasn’t ready to talk. Maybe he had an early meeting. I try to vision his calendar and will my mind to remind me if he did.
I shower and dress quickly, wanting to get to the office and see him before everyone else starts arriving. I’m unable to settle the sinking feeling in my stomach. I will feel better once I see him and can judge his demeanour.
We’ll be fine; we’ll work this out. Even if we just went back to a platonic friendship. I would be fine with that, as long as I still have him in my life.
Unease washes over me as I fly into the underground parking lot and don’t see Saxon’s car. I quickly park, gather my things, and head up in the elevator. My stomach sits in my throat the whole way, and I try to swallow down the lump.
Being so early, the office is quiet when I step out of the elevator. Not expecting to see Ruth at her desk, I throw my bags on it as I pass, heading straight to Saxon’s door.
It hits me full force in the face like a freight train as soon as I open his office door. The destruction speaks a thousand words.
Furniture is flipped over and thrown across the room, glass tumblers from the bar are smashed into pieces, and Saxon’s desk items are scattered across the floor.
As I take it all in, all the devastation, all the mess, the office still seems empty somehow. Missing something.
A large knot forms in my stomach and I hold my breath as I tiptoe across the floor, dodging the damage as I make my way to his desk.
Even though I know, as I look over the typed up resignation letter, shock resonates through me. Despair follows when I look next to the letter and find my house key.
My last breath leaves me as I momentarily close my eyes; my chest tightens and the ominous lump in my throat is back. He left me. Even considering last night’s blow up, I can’t believe it. He promised me he would never leave.
Without warning my legs give way to the overwhelming pain and despair, and I fall to the floor. I try to catch my breath as wracking sobs leave my body. He left me. He’s gone.
Loneliness and despair overtake me. My heartbeat races and my body shakes as I long to see him, ache for him to return. I hate how familiar these feelings are. Hate that I’m going through this again. Except this time, I have no one to blame but myself.
Unexpectedly, I’m being lifted into strong arms and looking up into Bill’s concerned face. I glance around and see Ruth standing in the doorway with a similar worried look on her face.
“He’s gone,” I sob to Bill.
“Shhhh, it’s okay, darling. It’s going to be okay.”
He carries me out of the office and past Ruth. “He’s gone,” I tell her. A tear rolls down her cheek as she nods at me in understanding.
Bill heads towards my office with Ruth rushing in front of us making way. “No, please. Nate’s office.”
“Brooke,” Bill warns.
“Please,” I beg. I need some familiarity. I need to feel him.
Bill sighs as he changes direction and heads toward Nate’s office. Ruth unlocks and opens the door for us, stepping back and making room for Bill to carry me over to the couch.
“I have a phone call to make,” Bill snarls as he storms out of the office.
“Do you need anything, sweetie?” Ruth asks, her voice shaking.
“No. Please. I just want to be alone,” I sob.
“I’m just outside the door if you need me.” Ruth turns to leave the office, lingering at the door as if she’s not sure what the best thing to do is.
I roll over and turn my back to her. Focusing on Nate, I will the comfort and solace of the other day to wash over me. There’s nothing. I don’t feel him here like I did. This only causes my tears to come harder.
I have no idea what to do, where to go from here. I’ve ruined everything monumentally, and I have no idea what to do. I wish someone could just tell me what’s right.
Everyone says follow your heart, do want you want to do, don’t worry about what others think. How can anyone actually live like that? What would I do if there were no consequences? If I didn’t care what people would think or say, would it make any difference?