Losing Sawyer

11. Surprises

I squeeze my arms tight around James, leaning into his solid frame, his familiarity, one last time before I head home.

Before I head back to Christopher, who's probably angry with me, or maybe he's not angry with me, our bed filled with another woman.

"Remember.." I start, lifting my head from his chest "do what's best for you."

I hear a quiet laugh rumble in his chest as he replies "remember, take your own advice."

"Oh shut up." Pulling away, I scoff at him even though I know he's right.

But unlike James I'm not oozing confidence and charisma and this ability to just mesh with anyone that comes my way. Building friendships and more importantly relationships are hard when you're afraid to put yourself out there.

"Just please James. Don't let Brett hurt you again." I say with a slight urgency.

I don't think my scolding will deter Brett, not really. It might for a moment but Brett gravitates towards James, the same way James does to Brett and it's obvious the only reason Brett is back is because of James.

"I won't."

"And you better give Dom a better excuse than 'you can't'." I scold, thinking back to the phone call I overheard last night as James broke up with his not quite boyfriend. "That's like the worst explanation ever and Dom is a good guy. Don't be a jerk."

James pulls the driver's door open on my car, leaning over the top of it. "I'm not a jerk."

I stop before climbing in, the sun warming my skin as the morning slips toward afternoon. I've enjoyed my night with my brother, maybe more than I want to admit to myself. Being with James has evened out my equilibrium for the moment, reminding me what unconditional love is. That no matter what, I am loved even if it's only by my family. "Love you."

"Love you too." He smiles, our gray eyes locking with one another's and like I've done so many times before I find myself longing for the days of our youth. When James was only just a bedroom away rather than an hour. "Let me know when you're home."

"Let me know how it goes." I counter as if either are up for negotiation and with a nod from James, I fold myself in my car and leave the sanctuary that is my brother.

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"Does this look okay?" I ask Christopher who's tucking his feet into his shoes.

He gives me a quick glance, his whole presence has been cool. Not mean, not even rude but I've clearly slipped up by rushing to my brother's side.

"Looks nice." He says briskly. "We have to leave, are you ready?"

His clipped tone hurts but I hide it behind a smile like I don't notice he's being particular distant and follow him out of our apartment. He makes no move to take my hand, I trail behind him like a shadow, not deserving to be by his side.

I think about saying something the entire time. As I try to match his long strides in my stilettos so that I can stay at the edges of his coat tails but no matter how demanding my conscious is, no matter how loud it screams, the words don't come out.

Instead I scramble after him, trying desperately to stay composed as my heart beats erratically in my chest. What am I doing? It's obvious to me that I don't belong. That I have been doing nothing other than playing pretend and now Christopher is sick of it.

We ride the elevator in silence, I lurk in his shadow like a formidable creature. Threatening to break the illusion of perfection that I know Christopher prefers. His back is rigid, spine straight, a demanding presence when he's displeased.

But yet, he holds all the doors and as we step off the elevator and into the lobby of our apartment his hand finds the small of my back and I'm placed beside him. Worthy for the moment to be by his side because I can at least look the part in my satin dress that hugs my curves, cut just above the knee to show off long, lean legs that lead down to an over priced heel.

It takes minutes before we're in his car, pulling from the parking lot and the tension that fills the cab is so thick I'm afraid I'll choke.

But as I open my mouth to apologize, Christopher surprises me and we both say "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry?" I'm astonished, gaping at him from the passenger seat.

His eyebrows are knit, his hair freshly cut. He must have gone while I was with James.

"I'm being a jerk." He says. "Obviously you should be there for your brother." The leather steering wheel groans beneath his fingers as his knuckles whiten. I can't help but stare at the way his hands wring the wheel, as if he were trying to force the life out of it. "I just had a surprise for you."

"You did?" I chirp, surprise lodged in my throat.

His head nods a sly grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. My first thought is a proposal. It isn't such a far fetched idea. We've been together for while, a little over a year. And while there have been days in the not so distance past where I had dreamed of the moment when Christopher would propose, down on one knee, pledging his life to me, the very thought has fear coursing through my veins.

"What sort of surprise?" I ask, my voice a timid squeak as I peer at him from across the car.

He reaches for my hand, fingers lacing with mine. An act that should provide comfort but it doesn't. It never really has.

"Well if I tell you it won't be a surprise." He tosses me a quick glance, perfectly handsome and mischievous now that he's smiling.

But I can't match his mood, rather the more he says the word "surprise" the more unease fills me. And I find myself hoping that tonight's dinner will be devoid of surprises.

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