Wherever You Will Go(97)

I’m not sure how long I stayed like this, listening to the song over and over. Opening my eyes, I become aware of the shadows of late afternoon taking over. It’s time to go home and face this.

Sitting up I wipe my eyes and realise they’re dry. I haven’t shed one tear listening to that song. It’s the first time I’ve thought of Nate and not cried in nearly a year.

My shoulders feel lighter, my head clearer. It’s seems so obvious to me now. I throw the car into drive and speed out of the parking lot. Ideas and processes are running through my head, and I need to get to the office. Figuring it’s probably a little late and remembering I don’t really want to be there alone, I resign myself to going in the morning. I can spend tonight at home planning, making lists and spreadsheets.

My body hums with excitement and the peace which normally only comes with Saxon envelops me. I didn’t need to rely on Saxon for that peace. I just had to find it within myself.

As I make my way back to the house it hits me. The final stage of grief. Acceptance.





My hand shakes as I lift it in a fist to knock on his door before bringing it back down to my side. It’s been more than two months since I’ve seen him and to say I’m nervous would be an understatement.

Thankfully I have been way too busy to miss him. No, that’s complete bullshit. I have missed him more than anything, thinking of him every night before I went to sleep and every morning when I woke. I just hope I’m not too late.

I wanted to ensure everything was in order before I came to see him. I needed everything sorted and in its place. I want him to know how I feel, and words just aren’t enough for how I feel about Saxon Reed. After what I’ve put him through, all the back and forth, I need to show him.

The moment I left the boardroom this morning after dotting all the i’s and crossing all the t’s it was a weight off my shoulders. Feeling so high and elated, I would have sworn I could fly. The whole process has been a headache, and this morning’s final product ended with three lawyers, two accountants, two bank managers, two conveyancers, a real estate agent, and a few signatures and handshakes.

Rushing home to pack up a few more things, I then made my way here to Saxon. I was desperate to come, as if I had been waiting forever. Dreaming of this big reunion   with hugs and kisses. Now, standing here, I’m not sure what to expect.

Maybe I should have called before I came, maybe I should have called weeks ago and told him I was sorting my shit out and to wait for me. God, what if he hasn’t waited for me? I could be walking in on something here. Ughhh, just the thought of it makes my stomach turn.

Without thinking, I bang hard on the door. For a brief second I consider bolting, but there’s not enough time to ponder it further before Saxon opens the door. He stills and a myriad of expressions cross his face before he settles on a blank, bored look.

“Brooke.” There’s no emotion in his voice, and he stares at me expectantly. Shit, I wish I had thought about what I was going to say. Maybe practiced it on the way over.

“Hi.” I smile warmly at him.

Saxon continues to stare at me blankly as he steps to block the door. What the fuck? For the first time I consider the possibility that he may not take me back. He may not want to give this thing a go with me.

His huge body fills the doorway, and I can’t help but stare, my eyes taking him in. He looks tired, worn. His eyes have dark circles under them. His hair is longer now. The urge I have to run my fingers through those thick locks is indescribable.

He stands there blocking the doorway with a bodyguard stance, arms crossed over his chest. What does he think I’m going to do, try and run past him into the apartment? Placing my hand on my hip, I glare at him. “Are you going to invite me in?”

He doesn’t respond for a few seconds, then slowly stands aside, his face reluctant, and gestures for me to enter. I storm past him and notice the corners of his mouth lifting slightly, almost like a proud smile marring his face. He shuts the door and walks further into the room while I keep my position closer to the entrance.

He stares at me with interest. He’s ready to listen yet I’m not sure what to say. I might as well start with the obvious.

“I’m sorry for what happened.”

“It took you two months to find me? Or two months to realise I deserved that?” His cold tone throws me off balance. I guess this isn’t going to be the love-fest reunion   I was hoping for.

“No, I had some stuff to take care of, and didn’t want to come until it was all sorted,” I say, defensively, wondering again if I really did make the right decision in doing that.