Page 76 of Caging Liberty
“What are you talking about?”
I pull my eyes from the box to look at Angel. “Sawyer told you this is my comfort food.”
Angel rears back. “What?”
I gesture to the box. “He told you. That’s why you brought this back for me.”
The lines between his eyes deepen. “Are you serious?”
I open my mouth to go on but then close it. Am I overreacting here?
“Didn’t he?” I ask, now the one who’s confused.
He gives his head a shake and takes a swig of his drink, a brown liquor. I'm guessing from my time spent with Angel that it’s whiskey.
After he sets the glass down, his serious eyes assess me. “I don’t know what all you think Sawyer and I talk about, but no, he didn’t tell me that.”
“Oh.” A blush heats my cheeks, and I suddenly feel stupid.
“You don’t have to be so worried about him knowing intimate details about you. He talks to three women at a time, on average, so I doubt he remembers much about you other than the big things.”
“But…”
“But what?”
I clear my throat again. “You knew my favorite drink. You said you read transcripts.”
Angel tilts his head. “What’s your favorite drink?”
“A Manhattan.”
He chuckles. “Liberty, you’refromManhattan. I didn’t know that was your favorite drink, it was just what popped into my mind in that moment. You’re talking about that night in the playroom, right?”
I bob my head.
“When I said I’d read transcripts, I just meant I read a little. I know big things about you, important things. I know you went to Harvard, you dropped out of law school four years ago when you married Robert, and you have parents in Florida who you talk to twice a year. That’s pretty much the extent of it.”
I’m quiet for a minute, considering what he’s telling me.
So the drink was a coincidence. The chocolate is a coincidence.
Of course it is. Of course it doesn’t make sense for Sawyer to tell Angel all of that, or for either man to even care about those things. Angel’s right, Sawyer probably doesn’t even remember any of that shit.
But when I spoke to him, when I opened up my heart and poured myself into him like a floodgate bursting, it felt so real. It felt like he knew me. It felt like he maybe evenlovedme.
Jesus, I’m delusional. I’ve got to stop separating the Sawyer I thought I knew with the Sawyer who exists.
It was all an illusion. A lie.
He doesn’t even care.
“Oh,” I say at last, forcing a tiny smile. “Well, good. I guess I was overreacting.”
“It makes sense to be confused,” he says, though I doubt he means it. “Sawyer’s very good at making people feel like he cares… He’s practiced at it.”
Angel reaches across the table and puts his hand over mine, smiling sadly. “Don’t let it taint the good memories, okay?”
I hum, knowing he’s right.