Chapter Eleven
Sam
We work together, and unload all of the boxes and bags into my apartment. There's not much, but it’s something.
“I’ll go back tomorrow and see what’s left.” Logan says.
“I’ll come with you. I don’t want to make you do it all by yourself.”
He looks down at his shoes, restlessly, and like everytime I’m with him, I wish I knew what he was thinking.
Fuck it.
“What are you thinking right now?” I ask him, holding a breath.
His eyes meet mine, then my lips, but he just shakes his head and shrugs his shoulders.
“I just wish there was more I could do,” he says.
I swallow the lump in my throat, “It isn't your responsibility to have to do more.” I whisper.
Logan lets out a breath, but doesnt say anything. He just stands in my doorway, fidgeting with his hands.
Something is bothering him, I can tell.
“What is it?” I asked him.
Finally, he looks back at me, “Hearing what you went through, and then seeing your last physical shred of him, it just..it got me thinking.” His voice is so quiet.
“I lost my best friend while we were deployed. His wife and his mom didn't want to let go of any of his personal belongings, except his dog tags.” his hands instinctively reach for the chain around his neck, flipping the tags between his fingers.
“That loss gutted me. Witnessing that gutted me.” He pauses. “It’s hard watching something you love disappear.”
I wait, letting him take his time. Letting his words absorb. There's no telling what he witnessed out there, but I can bet witnessing his best friend die is extremely traumatizing.
“How did you cope with that?” I ask. “With seeing..that.”
He blows out a shaky breath, then sits up a little straighter, as if he’s trying to avoid getting emotional.
“I go to meetings once a week. It's usually required after that, and being discharged. They gave me the option, and I took it. I watched my father battle with ptsd, and he lost that battle. I didn't want to become him.”
“I’m sorry, Logan. That’s..terrible. I’m sorry.” I whisper, then add, “I’m proud of you. For taking precautions, and working on healing the trauma from everything. I know that can’t be easy.”
“It wasn't, at first. I was angry, and in denial about needing help, but after the first couple meetings, it became easier, and I actually look forward to going to them now.”
Our eyes meet, and I see his shining with wetness.
“Come on, I think you need a drink.” I suggest, and he chuckles.
“Yeah, you're probably right. It’s late though, don't you want to get some sleep?”
“Eh. I’m not that tired.” which isn't completely a lie. I am tired, but I’m enjoying his company too much after the day we’ve had.
Something about being in his presence soothes my chaotic mind.
A couple beers later, and the tension of the day has slipped away. For the most part.
We’re actually laughing, and talking, and having a nice time.
I’m laying on my couch, he’s sitting on the floor at the coffee table playing with a coaster.
Without looking at me, he says, “Tell me about Sam.”
I roll onto my side, looking at him. His cheeks are flushed from the alcohol and his hair is tied up in a messy bun that makes mine look disgraceful.
“What do you wanna know?” I ask him, my words a little more than a whisper..
“Everything. What did he look like, what did he do. I wanna hear about the man who was lucky enough to hold your heart.”
I giggle, “That’s mighty poetic of you.”
He watches me intently, “I’m serious. He must've been amazing if he won you over.”
Suddenly the moment doesnt feel so serious.
Not with how he’s looking at me.
Not with the words he’s saying, and the beer coursing through my system.
“He was.” I whisper after a moment. “Amazing. He was my prince charming. My knight in shining armor.” I pause, remembering his face.
“Sam was so handsome, too. His hair was a light sandy brown, and was just long enough for me to run my fingers through it. He could grow facial hair, but always kept his face clean shaved because I would always complain about how scratchy it felt when he’d nuzzle my neck.” I blink away the tears, my fingers finding that spot on my neck.
“He wore round glasses that made him look super nerdy, but I loved them so much. And he would read to me. Poetry. Literature. Anything he could get his hands on, he’d read. And I would sit there for hours listening," I sniffle and wipe at my eyes, “just because I loved the sound of those words on his voice.”
“What did he do?” Logan asks me.
“Everything. He was always finding a new job or new hobby he wanted to do. One day he was a writer, the next an artist. Then he finally decided he wanted to teach. He never decided on what though..he never got the chance.”
I lean over to grab my drink, taking a sip, and wiping my face.
“He sounds incredible.” Logan says, taking a sip of his own drink.
“He was.” I whisper looking up at the ceiling with trembling lips.
He reaches over, and puts a hand on mine, “I’m sorry, for making you talk about him. I just had to know.”
I look back at him, shaking my head and say, “No, it's ok. Really. I just haven't spoken about him in..too long. It feels good.”
“Well, you can tell me about him anytime you want. I’ll be here with open ears.”
“Really?”
He nods, “Absolutely. I want to know everything you love, and everything you got the chance to love.”
We just look at each other for a minute, neither of us needing to speak. After a moment, he clears his throat, and checks his watch.
“I should probably get going, let you get some rest.”
I blink away any feelings I had surfacing up, shoving them back into their hole.
“Yeah, you should go get some sleep too. You did a lot today.”
I stand, and walk him to the door. Opening it, I turn to look at him, “Thank you, for today.”
Logan leans against the door, “You keep saying that.” he replies, a smile on his face.
“Because I mean it.”
His eyes drop to my lips, and I can't help but wonder what they would feel like against mine.
I look away, telling myself not to act on anything, that it's just a moment of weakness.
But is that really the reason? Or is it because of Sam?
Logan pushes off of the wall, pulls my hand to his lips, and leaves a gentle kiss.
“Goodnight, Charlie.” he says, putting distance between us.
After he’s gone, I lock my door, lean against it, and slide to the floor.
“Sam..what do I do.” I whisper to myself, wishing he were here. If he were, this wouldn't be an issue.
I wake up on my couch, a blanket over me, and Pudding curled up at my feet.
“Morning bud.” I say to him, watching his tail wag as he sees that I’m awake.
Sitting up, I stretch, and so does he.
We both make our way to the kitchen, and I pour him some water and food in his bowl, and grab a bar out of my fridge. I’ll have to go get coffee in a minute.
We walk over to my window that overlooks the town, and I open them up, letting in the early fall air.
As I’m taking a deep breath, there's a knock on my door.
Pudding barks once, letting me know someone is here, and I just shake my head at him.
“I have ears too, you know.”
He does a quiet bark at me, and trots over to the door.
I peek through the hole, and see Cassie standing there, two coffees in hand.
Opening it, she greets me with a soft smile.
“I thought you could use this.”
I smile back at her, “You're an angel, Cass.”
“I know.” she says proudly.
I take a sip, savoring the warm sensation of it.
“This is perfect. Just what I needed.”
“I figured after yesterday you could use some good coffee, so I got up early to bring you some.”
I don’t know how I got so lucky having someone like Cassie in my life, but I’m beyond thankful that I do.
“How are you holding up?” she asks as we sit on my couch.
I shrug my shoulders. “I don’t know. I feel like I haven't fully processed what’s happened. You know?”
She nods her head, and places a hand on my knee, “We’ll get through this. It’ll work out.”
We sit, drinking our coffees and just chatting, when she gets an alert on her phone.
“Ok so, I wasn't going to mention anything until I heard back, but I have some news.”
I pause mid drink and stare at her.
“Um, ok?” I say cautiously
She smiles, which makes me worry even more.
“After you left, I did some searching online. I know it probably isn't your first choice, but there is a building that came up for lease last week about 2 hours away.”
I deflate, not exactly the news I was expecting.
“Cass..I don’t want to lease a new building. Especially one that far.”
“I know, I know, but just look at it.” she says, and turns her phone to show me pictures.
There’s two large bay windows on the front with natural wood coloring, and brick walls that are painted a pretty sage green. It looks freshly updated.
The inside has wood flooring, and string lights everywhere, and the natural lighting is insanely beautiful.
The entire building is beautiful, and I instantly picture it as Charlie’s Antiques.
“That’s two hours away though. I wouldn't be able to work there every day.”
She shrugs, “So you hire a staff. You run the business part, go in a couple times a week, but have a staff work the days you don't.”
“I don’t know Cass. That seems like a lot of work.”
“Maybe just go look at it? But it’s an option.”
“What if my shop is fixable though? I don't want to just let it go if there's a chance it can be saved.”
“We’ll look into that option too. But I think you should consider this as a backup plan.” she says. And I hate that it's the logical thing to do.
“Ok. I’ll go look at it. But how am I going to get there? I don't have a car, you don't have a car, and I’m not paying a taxi to drive me that far.
Her eyebrows wiggle, and I already know where this is going.