Page 20 of Infinite as They Come (Sinful Trilogy #3)

“They’re all really sweet,” I said, and I realized then how choked up I was.

Looking at baby photos had the tendency to do that to me, and I hadn’t ever thought I’d get to see Sawyer’s.

Placing the photos in a neat little pile, I handed them out for Linda who was looking at me with watery eyes. “Thanks for sharing them with me. ”

“You can keep those,” she said softly. “Those aren’t even the originals.

I have them at home. I had those in my bag the day I left and I made sure I made a million copies.

I keep them in the car, in my bag, at work, in Kurt’s wallet, in the garage.

Gosh, I have copies everywhere. I never want to lose them. That’s all I had of him.”

My hand shook a little as I held the photos. “You want me to have these?”

Nodding, she wiped at her eyes. “Maybe Sawyer wants to look at them later. You keep those. I’ll put more copies in my wallet when I get home.”

“Thank you.” I held the photos close to my chest, that ache in my heart so heavy, like it was spreading all over my body.

It was all a little too sad and crushing, so I focused on that question she had asked me earlier.

About what Sawyer was like when he was younger.

“You wanted to know what Sawyer was like in school, right?”

She sat up straight, nodding eagerly. “Oh, please. Yes. I’d love to hear about that. What was he like?”

“Uh…” I laughed softly as the memories hit me. “Sawyer was… stubborn, opinionated, honest. Loud. Very loud. But… so resilient and strong and creative. Still is. Everything he paints is so beautiful. He’s the most talented person I know.”

“I’d love to see some of his art. In real life, I mean. I should know these things. Things he’s made, things he likes. Here I am not knowing a thing about my own son.”

My hand found hers on the bench, her skin soft and smooth.

“It’s not too late to learn about him. There were a lot of things I didn’t know about Sawyer either.

For a long time, we weren’t exactly… nice to each other.

But it was so easy to learn about him and get close to him and fall in love with him. ”

“I’m so glad he found someone like you,” she whispered.

“I’m glad I found him,” I said just as quietly, eyes roaming over to the other side of the park to where Sawyer was.

Shoulders a little stiff, hand rubbing at the back of his neck, probably uncomfortable as all hell, but still, he was trying.

He was fighting. I could see Spencer’s little hand gesturing around them like he was pointing something out as Sawyer gave him little nods .

Linda let out a choked breath. “You must think I’m such a terrible mother…”

My brows pulled together as I snapped my head over to her, her own head lowering. “No,” I said, the word coming out fast. “I’ve never thought that. And I promise you that Sawyer’s never thought that either.”

“I left him. He was so small, so young, and I left him. With… With that man,” she said, her sigh deep.

“You know, I dropped Sawyer off at school that day, and everything was normal. I wasn’t planning on leaving.

I really wasn’t. But… My ex-husband… Sawyer’s father…

He really didn’t like the idea of me being…

independent. I wasn’t allowed to work. I wasn’t allowed to drive.

The only time I got to do anything for myself was when I was taking Sawyer to school and picking him up.

And that was what happened that day. I had taken Sawyer to school and I was coming home, and everything was how it usually was, and then I saw it.

A wallet. On the ground, fresh and shiny, like I was meant to find it.

It belonged to some woman. Denise Brian.

I still remember her name on her license.

Five hundred dollars she had in that thing.

All I could think was: this is the most money I’ve ever seen in my life.

She didn’t live too far from us. Just a twenty minute walk from Sawyer’s school.

I took the cash, put the wallet in her mailbox, and I ran.

I ran like a coward. I took that money and hopped on the first bus out of Dallas.

I left my son with that awful man. The same one who hurt me.

I woke up with a new bruise on my body every day.

I… I really thought he’d kill me one day… ”

I had never heard anyone make the next sound that escaped her.

It was a sob. Not a little one, not a gentle one.

It was one that came from deep down, right from the stomach.

Choked, pained, like it hurt just to get the noise out.

She was shaking next to me, her body suddenly looking so fragile.

Pale, trembling fingers lowered to grip the bench, like she was holding on for dear life.

I slowly reached my own hand out, squeezing hers tight.

That made her look up at me, her eyes all big and wet, the sight enough to make my own tears prick at my eyes.

“You’re not a coward,” I said, my voice too shaky.

“You’re not. Don’t think that you are. You must have been so terrified.

I can’t even imagine what you were feeling.

What you were thinking. You’re allowed to be gentle with yourself and your heart.

Sawyer doesn’t hold it against you. You shouldn’t either. ”

“I left him,” she said. “He was so little. I just left him like that.”

“You were scared and so young. You didn’t know what to do.”

“It’s the worst mistake of my life. Leaving him. Hurting him.”

“You’re here now, though,” I said, still gripping her hand. “That’s what’s important. You’re in his life again. And Sawyer can see you trying.”

“He must hate me. I can tell. He hates me.”

“He doesn’t,” I said firmly. “He cares about you. He’s hurt.

I won’t lie to you about that. He’s hurt and he’s allowed to feel hurt, but he doesn’t hate you.

He’s scared. Scared to let you back into his life.

He’s not really used to people looking out for him and helping him, so this is different for him, but he cares about you. Don’t think that he doesn’t.”

“Oh, you’re too sweet,” she said, wiping at her eyes. “Gosh, look at me. What a mess.”

“It’s okay. It’s okay to be upset about it. About everything. But it’s also okay to be nicer to yourself.”

“I don’t deserve kindness.”

“Don’t say that. Sawyer doesn’t think that. Neither do I.”

“I’m used to crying over him,” she said with a sad sounding laugh. “This isn’t anything new.”

“Maybe it’ll be happy tears from here on out,” I said, gently placing my hand on her back.

“I hope so.” She smiled at me, swiping her fingers along the skin under her eyes.

I could see Sawyer, Spencer, and Kurt suddenly walking back over to us, so I quickly wiped at my eyes and tucked the photos into my purse.

My first thought was to try and read Sawyer’s face, to search for pain, hesitance, anything, but he just raised his eyebrows up at me, one hand pushing through his hair.

“Spencer has something for you ladies,” Kurt said, placing a hand on Spencer’s shoulder .

Smiling shyly, Spencer handed his mom a flower. Long and pink and pretty, he gripped it tight, his other hand resting on her knee. “Here, Mom,” he said, voice all soft and little.

“Aw, thank you.” She grabbed the flower with a smile and pressed a kiss to his head. “And who’s the other one for?”

“For Holly,” he whispered. He moved over to me, one hand holding the flower while the other pulled at the end of his shirt.

My heart warmed as I took the flower from him and sent him a smile. “You’re too sweet, Spencer. Thank you.”

“Why don’t we have lunch?” Kurt suggested. “Me and Linda packed sandwiches. Sawyer, Holly. Please join us.”

“Yes, let’s eat,” Linda said, eyes stuck on Sawyer’s face. “Unless… Unless you want to go?”

I looked at Sawyer. If he needed a break, if he needed time, then he deserved that. Our eyes locked and I waited for a sign, even just a hint of him needing some distance, but he nodded slowly.

“No, we’ll stay,” he drawled. “We can stay.”

The breath Linda let out was drenched with relief, her eyes closing for the tiniest of seconds. I could see her hands rushing to open the picnic basket on the table, pulling out a paper wrapped sandwich as she handed it Sawyer’s way.

“I made chicken and mayo,” she said, eyes all big. “You used to like chicken and mayo when you were little. Do you still like it?”

“Uh, yeah,” Sawyer said as he took the sandwich from her hand. I watched as his fingers brushed against hers before quickly pulling away, the sound of Linda’s breath hitching painfully loud. “Thanks.”

“Holly, would you like one too?” Linda asked, holding out another sandwich.

“Thank you,” I whispered as I took it from her.

There was too much tension. Too much awkwardness.

But it was bound to be that way. Bumps in the road, uncomfortable pauses, too long stares.

I knew it was going to happen, and Sawyer probably did too, but there he was trying, doing his best despite how much it must have hurt.

My free hand instinctively found his knee and he pressed his hand over mine.

Kurt seemed to sense the tension—God, even Spencer seemed to notice, his eyes darting back and forth between everyone—as he perked up in his seat. “So, Linda mentioned that you guys were in New York before coming back to Texas,” he said. “What’s it like there? I’ve never been. Sure seems busy.”

“Yeah, it’s pretty crazy. Holly went to Columbia,” Sawyer said. “She just finished up studying journalism. I fix cars up there.”

“Wow,” Spencer said with a little gasp, both hands grasping his sandwich as he took a bite.

“And he paints.” I nudged Sawyer. “He’s very talented.”