Page 59 of Seductive Swimmer
She breathes in and out deeply, thinking for a moment before responding. “I couldn’t even hazard a guess. And any time I tried to ask him about it, he ended the conversation. Over time, I came to realize that he was terrified of getting close to you and hurting you the way his father hurt him. Instead, he shut you out, and built a wall between the two of you with his expectations.”
When I go to bed that night, much like the night before, I toss and turn for hours. Only this time it isn’t just thoughts of Savannah keeping me awake. Now I’m revisiting my childhood and trying to see it through a different lens. If my father was scared to get close to me, he did a bang-up job of pushing me away. But is that understanding enough for me to try and repair things between us?
Do I even want to be here long enough to try? Mum told me I should go home once we get the biopsy results next week. I know she’s right; I can’t miss that much work and I desperately want to talk to Savannah. I thought about calling her a thousand times today, wanting desperately to hear her voice. In the middle of the night when it would have been just ten pm for her, I even dialed her number. It went straight to voicemail, and I hung up without leaving a message.
The next day I take Mum for her biopsy. On the drive to and from the hospital, I tell her all about New York, Brayden and my business situation, and Savannah. I tell her how I screwed up with the woman I love, and how much I want to win her back. Mum doesn’t offer any insight or solutions, just tells me she hopes to meet Savannah someday. Truth be told, I don’t know how much of what I said she even absorbed. I can tell she’s scared, and tired from the day, and frankly, so am I.
When I turn the car into the long circular driveway, I pull up behind a black London taxi. My confusion turns to shock and anticipation when I see a familiar body with long, golden hair step out.
“Savannah?” I call out, abandoning my mother at the car as I stride over and come to a stop in front of the woman that I love with all my heart. I drink her in, searching her face for a clue as to why she’s here. My heart is full of love and gratitude for her coming to me, and there is so much I want to say. But just then, the taxi driver leans out of his window and interrupts the moment with his deep Londoner accent.
“Oy, I need to go, lovebirds.”
Savannah blushes and turns to pay him as I grab her bag from the back. Putting it down on the ground beside us, I hesitantly reach up to run my hand over her hair and cup the back of her neck. In the background I notice the taxi drive away, but I don’t care about that, not when Savannah’s in front of me.
“You’re here.” I sound breathless. Seeing her here has stolen the air from my lungs.
She just nods, then goes up on her toes and presses the sweetest kiss I’ve ever felt to my lips. For the first time in close to seventy-two hours, my heart and my soul are at peace.
