My temper quickly spikes again, “So that’s fucking it, Grace? You’re just going to keep fucking ignoring me till I go away?”
She drops her head, looking at her feet. Her arms are still crossed, as if she’s trying to keep warm.
“What do you want me to say, Sawyer?” she asks quietly.
“Well, for starters, you could fucking tell me what the fuck I did wrong?”
She clears her throat but still doesn’t look at me, “You didn’t do anythin’ wrong.”
“Really? You could have fucking fooled me from the way you’ve been acting.”
“I’m sorry. I never meant to hurt your feelins’,” she whispers quietly.
“For fuck-sakes! Would you fucking look at me?” Her head snaps up, a mixture of pain and anger in her expression.
“Do I really need to spell it out for you? I’m humiliated enough as it is, but fine, if you really need to hear it then I’ll say it. I’m sorry for throwing myself at you, all right? Now let’s move on and forget about it.”
She goes to walk past me, but I grab her arm before she gets too far. She flinches and raises her arms protectively in front of her, as if expecting a blow, which sends me right over the fucking edge. “You think I would fucking hit you, Grace? Huh? Is that what you think of me?”
Her face turns red and tears spring to her eyes. She rips her arm out of my grasp. “No, I don’t. It was just a reflex.”
I let out a heavy breath and try to calm down, “Why the fuck are you sorry for the other night? I’m not.”
“Don’t, Sawyer. I don’t need you to lie about it. I got the rejection loud and clear.”
“Did you ever fucking consider that I stopped because I was trying to do the right thing? You drank a whole goddamn bottle of wine, Grace, I wasn’t going to fucking take advantage of you!”
She scoffs, “Right, coming from the guy that will pretty much screw anythin’.”
As soon as the words leave her mouth she drops her head and shakes it. “I’m sorry. I shou…”
“You know what? Save it. I’m fucking done. I don’t need this shit.”
Then, before I say or do anything I know I’ll regret, I get the fuck out of there. Mac watches me leave and the new girl clears a wide path as I storm out the front door with my temper soaring and my chest raging with something I can’t name.
I try to be noble and that’s what I fucking get. Well fuck it, I’m Sawyer fucking Evans, I can have any woman I want. So what the fuck should I care what some little blonde chick, that bakes delicious fucking pies, thinks of me?
Getting into the truck, I slam the door and keep a tight hold on my anger, because anger feels a hell of a lot better than the other feeling that’s trying to push its way through.
Oh no, what have I done? With tears streamin’ down my face I walk into the kitchen and grab my coat. “Mac, I need to go. I’m sorry but I can’t be here right now.”
He looks at me worriedly and nods. “Don’t be sorry, darlin’. You go. We’ll be fine. Did you want me to give you a ride?”
I shake my head, “No I need the fresh air. I’ll be back tomorrow. Thank you.”
I walk over and kiss him on the cheek. Before I can move away he wraps me in a bear hug, squeezin’ the life out of me. “Watching you this last week is breaking my heart, Grace.”
I let out a little sob, as guilt strikes deep. I’m hurtin’ Mac and I just hurt Sawyer, all because I’m hurtin’. I’ve never been a self-pitying person and I let my pain get the best of me, which just makes me angry. “I’m sorry, Mac. I never meant to hurt any of ya. I promise I’m gonna be better.”
He squeezes me tighter, which I didn’t think was possible. “Don’t be sorry, darlin’, if anyone has a right to be sad it’s you. But let your friends help you, all right? Don’t push them away.”
I nod, feeling terrible for what just happened with Sawyer. Mac lets me go. “All right, go on and get out of here. Call if you need anything.”
“Thanks, Mac.” Then I’m rushing out the front door and speed walkin’ home. Pulling out my cell, I text Kayla and Julia.
Are y’all busy? Can you meet me at my house? I need some company.
I hope I’m not interruptin’ them, but I need their advice. I need to make things right with Sawyer. A second later my phone dings back: On our way.
I shake my head and feel tears build again. I may have had a lot of pain and hurt come my way in the last 3 years, but I also have a lot to be thankful for, especially my friends.
If the bad starts to outweigh the good, baby girl, then focus only on the good, because when you’re thankful for the good, you’ll end up havin’ more of it.
Mama’s words float through my head, reminding me of what a self-pityin’ fool I’ve been. I should create a pie called Feelin’ Sorry For Myself Pie, one with yucky ingredients like lumpy oatmeal and fruitcake mashed together.
I get pulled out of my thoughts when I turn on my street to see Julia and Kayla getting out of Julia’s car.
Holy smokes that was fast. I start joggin’ over. Being able to tell I’m upset, they start towards me, meetin’ me halfway. Their arms come around me.
“Thank you for comin’.”
“Thank you for texting us when you needed someone,” Julia says softly.
“Yeah, and I especially want to thank you for getting me the fuck away from Cooper. The man-cold has hit my house and I was just about to start poisoning his fucking soup if I had to hear anymore about how serious a sore throat can be.”
We burst into a fit of laughter, something we haven’t done in a while. I hug them tighter. “I’m sorry I’ve been such a downer this week, and I’m real sorry if I hurt y’alls feelins’.”
“You didn’t, Grace. We know you’re going through a hard time right now,” Julia replies.
We pull back from each other and Kayla grabs my hand. “All right let’s go inside and you can tell us what’s going on. I brought wine, in case this was a crisis alcohol could fix. Jules, I brought you sparkling juice.”
Heading inside we take a seat on the couch and I tell them everything. I start to choke up when I repeat my last comment to Sawyer. “You should have seen his face, I’ve never felt so awful in my life. I’m a terrible, terrible person.”
“Whoa, easy there Mother Theresa, I wouldn’t go that far. Here, drink some of this,” Kayla screws the cap off the wine and hands me the bottle, “trust me, it will make things seem a whole lot better.”
Grabbing the bottle, I take a big swig and choke the nastiness down. I’m not a big drinker; I don’t like the taste of alcohol much.
“There you go, good job,” she takes the bottle and has a swig herself. “Now, first off, you’re not a terrible person. People make mistakes, and let’s be honest, although the last comment was unnecessary it wasn’t untrue and Sawyer has to know that.”
I shake my head sadly, “I know he can be like that but he never has with me.” Emotion starts to clog my throat again when I think how kind he has been to me. “I never meant to hurt him, I just let my humiliation and pain run my mouth.”
Julia rubs my back. “Don’t beat yourself up so much, Grace, like Kayla said, people make mistakes. All you can do is apologize and ask for forgiveness.”
I nod, “Y’all are right. That’s exactly what I’m gonna do, I’ll bake him a special pie, an apology pie, then I’ll take it to him.” I look at the clock and see if I start now hopefully it won’t be too late and I can take it to him tonight.
“Sounds good to me. Can we help? I’d love to learn how to make a pie,” Kayla asks excitedly.
I smile, “I’d love to show y’all, come on.”
Going to the kitchen, I turn on music, which is something I always do when baking, and teach my two best friends how to make a pie. I put extra special care into this one, hoping it will be enough for Sawyer to forgive me.
“Another one, Jack,” I shout, waving my shot glass at the bartender.
Instead of going back to the gym, and throwing my bad-fucking mood around at the guys, I decided to come to Badass Jack’s. The local watering hole is the perfect atmosphere for my crappy mood. But when the beer and loud music wasn’t enough to drown out my fucking thoughts, I started hitting the hard shit.
Jack walks over, bringing me another shot of whisky. I throw it back and welcome the burn. “You wanna talk about it, kid?”
I shake my head¸ then regret it when the room starts fucking spinning. Shit, I’m fucked. And the worst fucking part is I can still feel the tightness in my chest.
“You know what, Jack?”
“What, Seal boy.”
I ignore the ‘Seal boy’ comment from the former badass marine. “When people tell you that doing the right thing feels good, they’re fuckin’ lying.”
The older man grunts, amused. “It’s the goddamn truth. I did something that would have made my Mom proud, but the thanks I got was a swift kick to the fucking balls. And I’ll tell you another thing,” I continue shaking my drunk-ass finger at him, “the ones you have to be careful for are the sweet looking blonde ones who smell like fucking cupcakes and make delicious pies. I’m telling you, they don’t look like they could hurt a fucking fly but they’ll take your ass down hard.” Talking about it starts getting me riled up again. “I mean, who gives a shit about cupcakes and delicious fucking pies anyway?”