Chapter Six
Nate & Sam’s House in Marietta
Sam’s headache drummed at her temples and the base of her skull as Nate pulled his truck into the driveway. She hadn’t slept last night, so she was exhausted. But she was wired and strung tight and hadn’t been able to keep any food down all day.
Tonight and tomorrow didn’t look much better on that front.
Especially since she hadn’t been able to find anyone or anything that could verify Nate had been home the night of the Hyatt murder.
Every step felt like she was sliding down a hill, and the worst part was it was a hill she was damn familiar with, but that didn’t seem to help her stop the long, slow slide.
Was it sensible to treat Nate like he was some kind of criminal while she slid? Like he’d done this to her?
Of course not, but Sam didn’t know how else to keep herself together than to hold onto an inner core of rage, spite, and blame toward anyone and everyone. Otherwise, she was going to fall on her ass.
Nate unlocked the door, and she followed him inside. She didn’t know how he could act so normal. Not that he wasn’t a little quiet, a little edgy, but he clearly wasn’t crumbling on the inside like she was. He clearly wasn’t dreading a night home alone with his thoughts.
He dropped his keys in the little dish they kept on a table by the door. Sam shrugged out of her jacket and tossed it on the back of the living room armchair like she always did.
“Any ideas for dinner?” he asked.
“I’m not hungry.” The thought of trying to swallow food nearly made her gag.
“You haven’t eaten much of anything all day.”
She didn’t know how to respond to that. Why was he even paying attention to what she ate? Didn’t he understand? It seemed so clear standing here in their living room, where he’d proposed, and she’d said yes and then…
“So, how much longer are you planning on icing me out?”
For a moment, she just stared at him. She wasn’t surprised he understood that was what she was doing. She wasn’t even totally surprised he’d call her out on it.
Because he didn’t understand.
She looked down at the ring. Maybe there was some tiny part of her brain that knew she was being ridiculous, but she couldn’t seem to listen to it.
Because he didn’t understand.
She worked really hard on speaking around the lump in her throat as she pulled the ring off and held it out to him. She had to meet his gaze, and she had to be brave. Because … it just felt too real.
That happiness wasn’t for the likes of her.
“Maybe you should take this back,” she managed to say.
He didn’t so much as move an eyelash for a horrible, completely silent moment. “And why the fuck would I do that?”
She knew he was mad, even if his tone was even. Temper flashed in those dark eyes, and he only held himself that tense when he was pissed off.
Usually temper set off her own, but his, in this moment, only made her feel about one centimeter tall. She closed her eyes, hated that a tear tripped over onto her cheek.
“Never mind,” she muttered, trying to move past him before he saw her really cry.
Since she couldn’t seem to control herself in that department. In the shower this morning. In the breakroom over coffee. Everything that usually held her together felt like it had evaporated.
He took her by the arm to stop her forward movement. Gently, because Nate Bennet was gentle and good and kind, and he hadn’t killed any damn one, but that never seemed to matter.
“No, I want you to say it.” Not much kind or gentle about his tone, but his hand on her arm still was. “Why should I take that ring back?”
Temper stirred, not just because he didn’t understand, but because he refused to. And it was either be pissed off or sob.
So she looked right at him, chin up and leaning into all that stubborn that had gotten her through so much of life. “Because maybe it’s just a fucking curse. To be happy.”
Everything about him softened into something far too close to pity to bear. “Sam.”
“How else do you explain it?” she demanded. “Life doesn’t always go this way for everyone else. It isn’t blow after blow after blow. It isn’t horrible news after every little sliver of good. It isn’t.” Her breath hitched when she tried to inhale.
His hand smoothed up her arm, to her back, and then drew her into the hard, warm give of his body.
“I’m not taking the ring back,” he said quietly, one hand rubbing up and down her back.
As if to prove his point, he took the ring she still held with his free hand, uncurled her fingers, and shoved it right back where he’d put it last night.
“And we’re not cursed.” He said it so emphatically.
She wished she could hold onto that as something real and true. She wished she could feel like this was just a shitty fluke.
“I know you think that because you didn’t do it, nothing bad can happen,” she managed to say through a too-tight throat, her hand curled around the ring on her finger because, damn it, she didn’t want to give it back to him.
She didn’t want to believe happiness was a curse.
“But I have lived the bad that can happen, Nate.”
“I know you have, and I know that it scares you. Life isn’t fair, and sometimes awful things happen. I get that we’re both really well-versed in that. But I think that means you hold on tighter to the stuff that’s good rather than toss it away in the hopes nothing ever hurts.”
She didn’t disagree with him. She, in fact, wasn’t doing that. Trying to give him the ring back wasn’t hoping to never hurt. It was hoping to somehow reverse this horrible sequence of events.
And yeah, that was insane, but she was feeling a little insane.
They stood in their living room like that, his hand rubbing up and down her spine.
And she felt so … exposed. Like all those walls and foundations that had kept her going all this time—that wall she’d built between then and now—were gone.
And without them, she couldn’t hold onto her tears.
She couldn’t find strength to move forward.
All she had left was the tiniest shred of self-respect to not fall to her knees and beg him to promise her this wasn’t history repeating itself because she did not deserve to have anyone she loved in her life.
She just didn’t think he understood. He’d run away from Marietta at sixteen, with her help.
She was more than glad he had, but he hadn’t lived in the aftermath of his mother’s death.
He hadn’t been here when her father had been arrested, when she’d made an enemy out of anyone with the last name Bennet, when her entire life had been proving her father was innocent.
And the continual failure of that.
So he just didn’t understand.
“We can’t just trust Hayes and the cops,” she managed to say, desperate to find some angle to get him to see. “The justice system is a farce. I have been working against it half my life.”
“I know.” His gaze was soft, his hold on her tight. He spoke with a gravity she appreciated.
But even if he knew, he still didn’t understand. “It can go wrong. So wrong.”
He sighed. “I know.”
“I just…” She looked at him.
The dark eyes and the crooked nose, and she hadn’t meant to fall in love with him. She hadn’t meant to find happiness and a future. It had just been the strangest, most natural slide into something wonderful.
And he didn’t understand.
“I just love you so much.” Her voice broke on that one, and she couldn’t stop the tide of tears anymore.
He used the backs of his fingers to wipe them off her cheeks. “I know.”
She inhaled, wishing she could stop shaking. Stop crying. Stop freaking out. “I just keep reliving it, Nate. They took him away in handcuffs, and everything changed. Everything was a nightmare. For years. So many damn years. I lost…” Everything.
“I know. Look, maybe you can’t believe me.
I think I get that. Maybe this is what you have to do for a while.
Be mean and ice me out. Or, hey, cry it out.
I’m not going to dissolve over a few tears.
Have the emotional response you need to, Sam.
That’s fine. I’ll survive.” He took her by the shoulders, looked right into her eyes.
“Because you’re not losing anything. I promise. ”
Something in Sam eased. Not all of the tension. Not all of the fear or worry or feelings of being cursed.
But if Nate promised … well, maybe it could be okay.