Looking in the mirror, I shook my head at what I saw: red, puffy eyes, black bags under them, pale cheeks, swollen lips, dark hair that was taking on a mind of its own. I pulled out a hair tie from my purse and gathered my hair up, but then abruptly stopped when I noticed the red mark on the side of my neck. Instantly those pale cheeks went crimson. He marked me. Badly. I leaned in forward to look at the gigantic hickey and ran my fingers over the bump. Were hickeys even meant to be this pronounced? I brought my hair back down, combing through the tangles with my fingers, and set it over my neck.

He was waiting by the door looking down at his cell phone, reading something that had his eyebrows bunched together in heavy thought. He’d grabbed my suit case and set it beside his feet. I felt queasy walking past the bloody puddles on the floor on my way to him. Knowing I was there, he tucked the phone in his pocket, picked up my suit case, opened the door and walked out.

I threw the hood over my head and followed. It was so nice being in dry clothes, but the weather was still having a heart attack, pouring buckets of rain down over the streets. I rushed to his car and jumped in, not caring how filthy I was getting the leather seat (he could afford getting it cleaned) as I brought my legs up and set my knees to my chest. He put my suitcase in the trunk and then took a seat behind the wheel of the car just as his phone started ringing.

“What?” he answered, starting the car. The car roared to life, and I took this opportunity to throw my hands over the vents and soak in the warmth. “No, tell Finley I’ll be there tomorrow.” The name caught my attention. It was the name the bearded man had been mumbling to himself. He hung up, and with a long sigh, started the drive back to his mom’s house.

*****

After an uneasy silent ride there, he parked the car in the garage and I followed him inside. Looking up at a clock on the entrance wall, I saw that it was only quarter to eight. It felt like midnight to me. I was exhausted and desperate for some sleep.

“Mom!” Jaxon called out.

Lucinda appeared out of the hallway and, to my surprise, so did Christy. When I saw her, I looked away. Guilt filled in my chest at what I’d just done with her man. I peeked at him and wondered if he had a similar look, but I only saw irritation.

“Sara!” Lucinda remarked, and then she paused and took in Jaxon’s shirt and her mouth dropped, along with Christy’s. “What on earth happened? Where did you…? Are you both alright?”

“Long story. We’re fine. She needs a place to sleep,” Jaxon said, motioning to me without looking at me. “Give her one of the bedrooms.”

“Of course. Let me just fetch some clean sheets in the cupboard for you, Sara. Give me a minute.” Lucinda hastily turned around and disappeared down the hallway, leaving me awkwardly standing amid an uncomfortable stare down between Jaxon and Christy.

“What are you still doing here?” Jaxon asked rudely.

There was a steady decline in her emotions: joy at seeing him, then hopeful, then confused, and now it was disappointment marring her beautiful features.

“I thought I’d wait for you,” she said quietly.

“I told you to let Josh take you home.”

“I didn’t think you’d take so long.” She glanced at me, but not viciously like I’d have expected from someone whose boyfriend had disappeared with for two hours. “You said you were just going to drop her off.”

I took a hesitant step back, nearing the steps. The awkwardness went to a whole new level at realizing she hadn’t sent him to drive me to the motel after all. He’d decided to on his own.

“As you can see, things happened,” he said gruffly.

I was so confused by his demeanour. Looking back at the way he held her hand the previous night and the smile he’d given her, I thought they were happy together. Yet she was looking at him like she was used to the indifference.

I sighed in relief when Lucinda reappeared with bed sheets in her hand. She looked between Christy and Jaxon, and then shot her son an angry look as she past them and smiled warmly at me. “Follow me, darling.” No problemo!

We climbed the stairs and she led me through a second living area and down a hallway with four bedrooms. She opened the last door and walked in. I paused outside of the door and hastily took my shoes off. The bedroom was carpeted and I didn’t want to leave any messy footprints.

“Jaxon sends a housekeeper once a week,” Lucinda told me, noticing my apprehension. “Don’t worry about making any messes.”

I walked into the giant bedroom that had an ensuite bathroom, walk in closet, large window overlooking the street, and was furnished beautifully with a custom made queen bed, a dresser with a huge squared mirror, and two night stands. It was plain, impersonal, and so evidently a guest room.

I watched her make the bed in silence, thinking only of what might be transpiring downstairs between Jaxon and Christy. Oh, God, what had I done? Jaxon had only meant to comfort me when I cried like a little baby on that bed. I was the one that initiated the whole thing. Yeah, but he didn’t back down either, my snotty little mind remarked.

Lucinda looked at me frequently as she set the sheet down and housed the pillows. She was thoughtful and concerned, and I hated that I must have looked like I was so obviously hurting.

“He hasn’t been with her long,” she quietly told me.

“What?” I looked up at her in my guilt to see that she’d stopped the bed-making entirely.

“He’s been with her maybe two weeks. Best record yet since you, though I wouldn’t classify it as a relationship. He doesn’t have relationships. Why do you think I give him death glares every chance I get when he’s around her?” She sighed and walked around the bed and stopped when she was in front of me. Her eyes looked tired, and I imagined she’d had a long rough day of her own having to redo a client’s hair and all.

“Mind you, she’s a great girl. I’ll give her that much, and she really likes him, but she’s not you.”

My breath thinned at the end, and I shook my head. “We’re not–”

“He’s going to want you again. Now that you’re here, he’s not going to let you go. You left him once, and it ruined him.”

I gulped down hard at her words. “I’m sorry I didn’t–”

“You left for reasons that I’m sure made sense, but he’s angry and he’s messed up about it. He’s… been through a lot the last few years, Sara, and he’s changed a lot in that time. I’ve tried really hard to make him right again, but he’s…” Wiping away a sudden tear of her own, she sat on the bed and looked vacantly down at the carpeted floor.