Chapter Twenty One #4
only one who suffered? It killed me—telling you I wanted to be
friends! I missed you so damn much. But he was going to come after
me again! He may not have really sent that message, but he wasn't
going to just let it go. He was going to hurt me, and if you were
my boyfriend he was going to hurt you too. You could've gotten
killed! You think I could live with myself knowing—"
I'm only aware I'm sobbing
when his arms wrap around me and pull me into his strong chest,
cutting off my rant. He doesn't say anything, just holds me and
rubs his palm soothingly up and down my back, letting me cry out
the memory of that terror. Of the fear of knowing Sam could become
collateral damage of my choices.
I'm afraid to pull back and
look at him, so scared he's only holding me because of my pitiful
tears, that he won't forgive me. "I'm sorry I lied. I'm so sorry
Sam. But I just thought that if I gave you up as something more,
then I could keep from really losing you. Because if he… Oh, God,
Sam, please don't hate me," I plead with him. I don't know what
else to do. I just got him back, and the lie that broke us up in
the first place might destroy us before we ever even have a
chance.
He pulls back then, but
doesn't let me go, and it compels me to finally meet his gaze. But
his words are the last ones I'm expecting.
"Cam's death wasn't your
fault."
They startle me, and I try
to pull away, but Sam doesn't release me.
"This doesn't have anything
to do with—"
"The hell it
doesn't."
I blink at him.
"You think you're to blame
for his accident, and you're not. And you broke my fucking heart
because you were afraid of history repeating itself."
My lips twitch in the
mimic of a reply, but I don't actually have one. He knows me too
well. He knows fucking everything, and right now I hate that.
There's no point in denying it, so I don't. Instead, I correct him
on the part he got wrong.
"I am to
blame."
Sam shakes his head, and
something tells me he was expecting my response. I hate that
too.
"It was a car accident,
Rory. He made the choice to get into that car in that weather. I'm
pretty sure you told me you did everything you could to prevent him
from getting involved."
Exactly. "I lied to him too. I told him Robin was still out of town
so I could have time to file the police report early the next
morning, so Robin would be arrested by the time he even woke up.
But he read my text messages while I slept. By the time I woke up,
he—" I choke on my own words. I can't finish the sentence out loud,
but in my mind the words ring loud and clear—he was dying.
"So you think you should
have been the one out on the road that morning instead." Sam seems
almost offended.
"I…" I trail off. I don't
know what to say. It's not that I think I should have died in Cam's
place.
Or maybe that's exactly
what it is.
I shrug, finding the waves
that Sam seemed to have found so fascinating moments ago. "The fact
is, if it weren't for me, Cam would still be alive."
Sam shakes his head.
"You've got to stop measuring how things would have been if it
weren't for you. Or if you're going to keep on asking yourself what
would or wouldn't have happened if not for you, well then at least
look at the whole picture. Cam would have been miserable without
you—"
I stop him, I can't listen
to this. "You have no idea—"
"He would have been
without his best friend, whom he loved, without you."
I gasp and pull out of his
arms. Sam is taking this way too far and I'm shocked at his gall. I
glare at him, my blood on fire and my eyes awash with tears that I
refuse to let fall again. "Don't you dare talk about him. You
weren't there!"
Sam takes a step forward,
and I take an answering step back. How could he bring Cam up like
this? He doesn't know! He wasn't
there!
He runs his teeth over his
bottom lip, and I can see in the tensing of his muscles that he
wants to reach for me, but he doesn't. He wants to comfort me, but
he doesn't want to push me, and so he keeps his arms trained
stiffly at his sides.
"But I'm here," he
whispers insistently.
I blink at him, my vision
blurred by unshed tears that I will away fervently.
"I don't have to have been
there to know how he felt. I know how I feel. I know he chose to take a
risk that morning, and I'm sorry it got him killed, Ror. I'm sorry
you had to lose your best friend. I'm sorry you're hurting, that
you may always hurt for losing him. But I'm here. And I know that I would do
anything for you. I would do anything to protect you, to keep you
safe. And if that means putting myself at risk to do it… well, it
wouldn't stop me."
I watch him intently, half
in shock that he's talking about Cam, but mostly I'm just soaking
in his words. Processing hearing him say he'd do anything for me. I
don't want him in any kind of danger over me. Not ever. But there's
a strange kind of comfort, of security, in hearing it. In feeling
like I have someone who will look out for me. Who cares for
me.
Who loves me.
And for the first time I
feel my guilt over Cam's death start to lift from my shoulders, if
only marginally. Because even though I would take it back in a
microsecond, for the first time I consider that given the choice,
maybe he wouldn't. Maybe he would always stand by his decision to
defend me. It sure does sound like Cam.
"No one's to blame for
that accident, Ror. Not even that
motherfucking bastard. And from what I
know of your friend Cam, he understood the risk he was taking. And
he still took it. For you. Because he wouldn't have been able to
live with himself otherwise. And he definitely wouldn't have been
able to live with himself if it were you who ended up in an
accident that morning." Sam takes a deep breath." He knew what he
was doing, Ror. It's not your fault," he insists. "I know because I
know that I'd risk my life, my future, to keep you safe. No matter
what it takes, and I won't apologize for it either."
They're beautiful words,
but they're also terrifying.
It takes me a few moments
to find my voice, and when I do, it's weak and tremulous. "That's
just it, Sam. How could I survive if something happened to
you?"
"It won't."
"You can't know that!" He
doesn't know what it's like—the suddenness of death. Cam was there
one minute, holding me and comforting me, and the next, he was gone
forever.
"You're right. I can't.
But I do know that whatever happens, whoever tries to hurt you,
whatever ends up happening, I'm always better off for being with
you. There's no kind of life worth giving you up for," he says
meaningfully.
"Well maybe I just feel
the same way. What then?"
Sam smiles wistfully.
"Then maybe I understand why you did what you did."
There's a long silence
where we just stare at one another, at an impasse, and at the same
time, coming to an understanding.
"I'm sorry I lied to you,"
I whisper.
"I'm sorry for being a
total hypocrite."
I don't bother pretending
I don't know what he's referring to. The lie of the Facebook
message may have lasted only a few hours, but it came from the same
place, one of wanting to protect the person he loved, and it caused
pain. And I know just like me, he regrets the lie, regrets the
pain, but doesn't regret where it came from.
"No more lies." It's my
promise and my request.
"No more lies, baby," he
agrees before pulling me back into his arms.