By the time Anne had made her way over toward the big rock formation in the water, the sand coarse and gritty against her bare feet, she’d crossed over fromcertaintyand had arrived at the wordcommitment.
What might a commitment look like in practice? A verbal promise? Something more contractual? They were already each others’ emergency contacts. But a real commitment would mean the two of them choosing to prioritize the other for the rest of their lives.
Do you really think Sadie might—And Claire, smiling, had told heryes. Yes.
A promise like that would likely mean no more dates with men, an insight that made Anne’s breath come a little short. That felt like a massive step, but there didn’t seem to be any other way around it. Dating meant the possibility of a serious relationship, which could get in the way of their promises.
The longer Anne considered not dating, though, the more plausible it felt. Since her divorce, Sadie hadn’t sought out any relationships at all, preferring her large social circle to a partnership. It was possible, even probable, that she’d be fine with continuing on in the same way. As for Anne herself, well—despite some regret that plucked at her ego, leaving behind those exhausting dating rituals didn’t sound terrible. After all, she’d never really enjoyed sex all that much, even with men whoweren’t gay, so not needing physical intimacy might come in handy. Sex wasn’t nearly as important as true companionship.
Maybe she should finally try a vibrator.
Anne dug her toes into the hard, wet sand, feeling the grains give. A pelican landed on the top of the rock formation, and then a second pelican. A friend. Or a mate.
Emotionally. And physically.
Water, cold and sudden, pooled around her bare feet. Anne jumped, her heart shouting an unnecessary alarm. The tide coming in. Only that.
Chapter 6
So. All right.
Honestly, the afternoon had been very productive. Now home, Anne parked her car with the conviction that she’d settled on a tangible goal.
“I want commitment,” she said out loud as she got out, and her own voice sounded strange in her ears.
She had a good working definition. Commitment meant being each others’ primary person for the rest of their lives, never dating anyone else, and spending most of their free time together. Sure, it was a rough sketch of a life, but that was plenty to figure out in one day. They had time to fill in the details.
She fumbled her keys in the lock of her front door, then realized it was already unlocked.
Shit.
Sure enough, Sadie was sitting on the couch, clearly waiting for Anne.
Sadie never arrivedanywherefirst, let alone Anne’s unoccupied house. The sight of her made Anne want to sprint into the guest bathroom off the hallway and slam the door. A theoretical ask was one thing; actually making herself vulnerable on short notice without any warning was completely another. Her pulse quickened.
“Hello there,” Sadie said gently. She leaned forward, bracing her arms against her legs. “Welcome home. Come over here and sit down with me, all right? We need to have a chat.”
Shit, again. They hadn’t talked at all since she’d sent Sadie home yesterday afternoon. Not even a text, which was unusual. Apparently, Sadie had been storing up her conversation for an ambush.
Stomach churning—the wine she’d had wasn’t sitting well—Anne put her purse down on the table by the front door and obeyed.
“I decided,” Sadie said as Anne sat down next to her, “that this time, I wasn’t going to wait for you to come talk to me. Processing’s one thing. Sobbing’s another.”
“So I got a little emotional yesterday,” Anne said sharply, defenses rising with her increasing discomfort. She’d come up with a short speech to explain her reaction to Sadie, but the entire script was currently on strike from her memory. “Sue me.”
Sadie brushed a long synthetic lock of golden hair away from her face. “You had a panic attack, sunshine. Immediately after I told you that I didn’t want to live anywhere without you. That’s not something we can gloss over.”
Didn’twantto live anywhere without you, notcan’t. Anne, facing forward and rigid, couldn’t let herself look directly at Sadie. Peripheral vision was more than enough at the moment.
“I’ve never seen you that upset. To be blunt about it, you fully lost your shit, and I don’t mind telling you it scared the hell out of me.”
Anne flushed with embarrassment. “I’m sorry I scared you. Don’t worry, it won’t happen again.”
“That must’ve been a very hard thing to go through all by yourself,” Sadie murmured. “I wish you would’ve let me take care of you.”
For some idiotic reason Anne felt new tears sting at the corners of her eyes. She wasn’t going to cry again and prove Sadie’s point. Shewasn’t. “It’s over and done with anyway.”
“Like fun it is. I know you. You’re the queen of packing up any feeling stronger than a mild breeze and shoving it inside some inner closet. And if you couldn’t do that yesterday, it means you’re dealing with something truly colossal.”