Present
I haven’t moved from my spot at the table in about five hours except for the two times I got up to use the bathroom. Paxton brought me a refill of coffee twice along with a couple of cans of sparkling water during that time. I requested a bag of trail mix, and he added that to the pile of papers without a single complaint. He basically waited on me all day. Sometimes he moved about the room on a conference call, and I occasionally found myself watching him.
Today isn’t the first time I’ve compared the Paxton of today with the Paxton of ten years ago. He hasn’t really changed much. I noticed the other night that the years have been kind to him, but there is something in him that’s different. There have been a couple moments where he’s acted just as he always did, but it’s obvious it’s not really who he is anymore. He’s almost softer toward me in some ways.
But, as I’ve sat here today, I’ve mostly been working. It’s been at least an hour since I’ve noticed Pax; I’ve been so lost in this chapter, trying to get it just right and make it flow with the rest of the story. I struggled a bit at first, but I think I finally got it.
Rubbing my eyes, I realize I need to stop for the night.
Suddenly, I’m aware of the smell of garlic and something else filling the air around me. My stomach growls loudly as I hit save on my document and shut my computer down. When I glance at my phone, I notice I’ve missed three calls from Richard throughout the day. Quickly tapping out a message, I apologize for missing his calls and let him know I’ve been super busy with edits and will call him tomorrow.
Setting my phone back down, I leave all of my stuff sitting on the table, stretch, and walk toward the bedroom. I can hear Paxton in the kitchen cooking, so I decide to take a quick shower and wash my face before the food is ready.
When I get into the room, I shut the door behind me, undress, and quickly shower. The hot water feels amazing on my aching shoulders, but I don’t stay in very long. I get out and quickly change into comfortable clean clothes, and I feel so much better.
With one last check in the mirror, I wander back into the living room and find Paxton setting out dinner on the round coffee table.
“Hey,” Pax greets me, smiling.
“Hey,” I return, pulling my hair up and twisting it into a bun.
He continues moving around, arranging everything for us. “So, I made some pasta with sundried tomatoes, roasted garlic, and a little basil then baked some chicken breast. I wasn’t sure what you’d want, but I distinctly remember you loving Italian night at my house so I figured pasta of any kind would be good.” Paxton walks back toward the kitchen, but before he disappears around the corner, he looks back at me. “Sit down and dig in, I forgot the wine glasses and bread.”
When he comes back a few minutes later, I’ve already served both of us a helping and opened the bottle of pinot noir.
Neither of us says a word, and the silence is comfortable. When I take my first bite, I groan in delight. “Mmmmm, Pax, this is amazing. Thank you.”
His face lights up in a pleased expression. “My pleasure. So how are the rewrites coming along?” he asks before taking his own bite. “Man, this is good.”
I laugh. “Still cocky, I see. I guess that hasn’t changed.” We grin at one another while stuffing our faces full of pasta. When I finish chewing my bite, I take a sip of wine and answer his question. “They’re going well. I got a lot done so thanks for the making sure I had food and liquids to make it through the day. It was nice…this is nice. What about you? The part of your day I heard sounds like you’re working on a major project.” Taking a huge bite of pasta, I almost laugh when his eyes go wide. “What? I like food,” I announce proudly.
Shaking his head, he allows a quiet laugh to slip out. “I see that. As for work, yeah, a massive project. We’re working on a building remodel in the Civic Center Historic District. There’s a lot riding on it and I’m overseeing it. It means a lot to me because it’s my baby, my first design I’ve done alone start to finish. It’s everything I’ve worked for, Cass. It’s pretty much the only thing I’ve ever wanted out of life for as long as I can remember. It feels good.”
If there’s one thing I know about Paxton Luke, it’s that he has always been driven. He wanted to be an architect for as long as I can remember, and I haven’t heard anything from Laney or our parents to indicate anything has changed. Paxton always made it clear it’s the only thing he’s always wanted from life, and he’s doing it. I’m so happy for him, but I’d be a liar if I didn’t admit that it hurts a little.
It’s not like he would’ve ever chosen me, even if his work wasn’t his whole world, but deep down I know it’s why even as we got older, he never saw the possibility—not even the one time he came home for winter break and kissed me. We felt something, but then he said too much as usual. Of course, my absolute conviction of my hatred of him didn’t give any clue that I might feel otherwise, but it wouldn’t have mattered anyway at that point, and it seems his life focus hasn’t changed.
“That’s amazing, Pax. You deserve it. I know you’ve always wanted this. I can’t remember a time you didn’t talk about becoming a successful architect, and you’ve done it.” I’m praising him, telling him not what I think he wants to hear, but the truth.
There’s a shift between us. I’m not sure what it means or if he even notices it, but I do. I don’t feel as angry, and it’s the strangest feeling because I’ve spent so many years really angry.
I guess I don’t completely hate Paxton Luke after all.