Chapter 40 Samantha

SAMANTHA

I run up the chateau’s wide marble steps, wet. I run down the wide hall. I slide on the already wet wood, but I finally make it to the penthouse. Inside, I slam the door and scream.

After a few deep breaths, I work it out.

Dragging my bags into the center of the suite, I throw all I own into them. I yank off my wet clothes, and they go into a large plastic bag. I need a hot shower, but there is no way I want to be around. Especially when I’m not needed, wanted, or loved.

After pulling on dry clothes, I haul my bags downstairs and into the lobby.

I run through the chateau and down a level. In the huge garage, I find my sedan next to the old Rolls Royce.

“I love you, William,” I mumble, as I drive the nasty, cheap sedan around to the chateau front.

I toss my bags into the back, and as I go to close the chateau’s front door, William appears. Having wet, red eyes and a panicked look, I no doubt shock William.

He also looks less than his usual impeccable self.

William doesn’t say anything to me, but he follows me to my car. He is carrying a picnic basket, and he offers it to me.

I shake my head, but William opens my side door and places it inside. We hug, and I hold him too tight. I can’t help it.

“You really should stay, dear. He will come around, you know. He loves you, even if he’s…”

“A lunatic?”

William holds me at a distance, and we explore each other’s eyes. “There is that,” he says almost comically. I snort-laugh and fight back tears.

“I do hope it works out, dear.”

“We won’t,” I say confidently, “but I will.”

William nods and forces a smile. “He needs you, Sam, and deep down, you know that.”

“Well, he had his chance.”

“I’m sorry,” the sweet old man says.

“Me too,” I say, letting it all go.

“So, what will you do?”

“I don’t know,” I say, giving far too much away. “I haven’t thought that far ahead.”

“Where will you go?”

“I don’t know that either. West, I guess. Somewhere I’m loved.”

William nods, and then he steps back, all formal again and just like his normal self.

“Godspeed, dear, I am sure you will be fine.”

“You take care,” I say, meaning it.

As I drive away, I wipe a lone tear from my cheek. It is all I have left. I take a last look in the rearview mirror at the chateau, and I try to let it all go.

It’s hard to think ahead fast. It really is a stunning and magical place in the world, and once, he was too.

As I drive past the lake and then the cemetery, I am tempted to stop.

Even if I want to say goodbye to Amanda, his sister, I know Tusk will now be with her, protecting her, wherever they are.

“Bye, baby,” I say, thinking of Tusk. Minutes later, I pull on the wheel and leave the main gates.

Several hours later, as I drive towards LA, my phone chimes. The sun has come up, and it’s oddly a calm day. Calm after the storm.

I pull over in case the message is from my family. It is not. It’s just my bank.

I have already started to worry about my lack of money, and I was hoping things would get messy in a week. Not now! Not already!

A second bank message comes in, and it confirms $120,000 was just deposited into my account.

I then remember our deal, and I shake my head, pissed. I then feel pissed, relieved, but also confused.

The idea of the money makes me sick, but I figure, if it goes to Mom, and I do not personally profit from the transaction, it is workable.

Ish.

I also feel that in Hawaii, we were falling, and we were becoming emotionally engaged in whatever it was.

It later died a horrible death.

Putting the phone down, I remember my engagement ring. I pull it off, remembering it is worth a small fortune. I place it in the center console. I don’t want anything to do with it.

Next, I check William’s classy picnic basket.

It has smelled nice for a while, even if I’ve avoided it, and I’ve felt sick. I pull out a cheese croissant and eat it with the warm cinnamon coffee.

My annoying phone chimes again, and another message comes in. This notes another $100,000 has arrived. There must be a mistake, but there is one thing.

It is not the same amount, so surely, it can’t be a double-up. Another message comes in, and it is from the bastard, himself.

Relocation funds, and my apologies.

“Fuck you,” I grunt.

I then huff, type fast, and send.

Don’t need your stupid money.

As I huff and start wondering what the hell is going on, my cell chimes again. “Oh, God,” I mumble, pissed.

Use for your project or something.

Again, I type fast.

You don’t get to command me any longer.

I breathe in and seethe when it chimes again. “Oh, my God,” I yell.

Trying to help.

Typing fast, I hit send.

Try fucking off.

I throw my sedan in gear and race off, confused. Also pissed, desperate, and alone.

After two exhausting days on the road, peppered with calls and messages from my friend Cassidy, I drive into Los Angeles.

I have mixed feelings, but at least I have news for Mom. That she can quit her second job.

After long hugs and talks with Mom in her small apartment, I give her the good news.

She is weirded out to start with, but I explain it’s from a past employer and cuisine-related. It is, oddly.

That night, Mom resigns from her office job, and I finally feel like I’ve done some good.

Even if I feel sick, and my heart is in pieces, there is a small ray of light in the universe.

I cook us a special, old favorite dinner, and with a bottle of wine on her balcony, we talk.

Mom then hits me with the big question, and she asks if I’m going to stay in LA and work.

I explain I’m unsure. Simply because I am. I tell her I want to go camping for a few days to clear my head. To also think about what I’ll do next.

Mom asks if I want to borrow some money, and we laugh. I tell her I have some savings, and I’ll be fine. The extra $100,000 is not really mine, but I have a fair idea what to do with it.

After washing clothes and sleeping in my old bed, I awake fresh. I grab our old tent from under the stairs, and then I drive out of the city.

I finally reach the cute place, the one we used for family holidays. That being Mom, my brother, and me.

Under the stars, in the woods, and alone in the world, I think about my kooky plan, and I wonder if I can design ultra-healthy, affordable meals.

I know there are hungry people in need, and I know I can help them.

Between feeling lost, feeling hurt, and wondering just why it went south so fast, I write. I also rest and design meals. I then go shopping for ingredients to create the most dynamic, innovative, and affordable meal units in the country.

Three days and around thirty test meals later, I stop and double-blink.

I think I’ve broken the code.

I have just sampled a crazy number of small meals and likely put on a few pounds. I have also found what is needed in around twelve healthy meals to sustain life.

I decide I’ve done enough planning, and it’s time for stage two.

That being: work out where in the country I think I can make this crazy plan work.

Between walks, wondering what I did wrong, and if I will ever feel good about a man again, I drill down on my old laptop in the tent.

I check cities, I check facilities, and I check states. Oddly, Austin, Texas, comes up, and the universe is talking. I’ve always wanted to go to Austin, and it’s supposedly the coolest town.

I drive back to LA, still messed up, but I try to keep busy to not think or feel.

It is hell, but at least I now have a plan. A plan to help others.

I figure if I stay focused on the plan and pour all my energy into the cause, it will also

distract me from my broken heart.

As I drive into LA, I decide to give up on guys. I will pour all my energy into my work, like some kind of modern nun.

No more guys, and no more sex.

There is only one problem. I still think about what he did to me and my body.

Deep down, I hate him for what he did to me. For breaking my heart. The only thing is, my body still craves his, and it wants him back.

Inside, and desperately.

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