1. 1995
Chapter one
1995
Maria
M y life is officially over.
Nothing in this world could prepare me for what I am about to do.
I’m going to break Sam’s heart.
More like smash it into a million pieces. I know this because my heart is in the same condition. I am an awful person, and I take full responsibility for my actions. Sometimes, life throws unexpected curveballs our way, forcing us to adapt and make difficult choices. Including hurting those we love the most.
And for me, that person is Sam.
The only man I will ever, or could ever, love.
My life is being pulled in two different directions right now. It’s a tug of war in my heart, a battle I never expected. A battle that I have chosen to lose.
As I run my tongue along the flap of the envelope, the faint trace of glue almost gags me while a single tear falls and lands on the crisp, white paper.
Then I close it shut. Sealing my fate in place.
God, I think I’m going to be sick.
The nausea pit in my stomach is threatening to surface, but I use all my strength to hold it down. I can’t lose it. Not here on my living room couch, waiting for Sam to pick us up for our date tonight. And not with him sitting next to me.
Why am I going to break up with Sam if I love him so much? Great question. And I will always give the same answer to anyone who asks … it’s complicated. Which is the answer you give to a question you want to avoid. This is more complicated than anything I have had to handle in my twenty years of life. And that complication is my father. My disabled, selfish, money-hungry father. I don’t fault him for being disabled. But the choices he has made, well, they have far-reaching consequences.
Sam’s strength is in stark contrast to my dad’s weakness. I hope and pray he has enough strength to endure the tidal wave of emotions I’m sure he is going to go through tonight.
I can’t believe I am about to do this.
Sam and I have been in love since our sophomore year. It was amazing to me that the oldest (by one year) and cutest boy in our class wanted me. I never looked back after that day.
Even though I always had a crush on him, I fell hard and fast. Mostly because he treats me with respect and in the way that makes me feel valued as a woman. There isn’t a single thing I wouldn’t do for him. And that’s why what I’m about to do is tearing me apart from the inside.
Not that I haven’t hurt for the last six weeks. The decisions I have made led to that little voice in my head letting me know what a terrible person I am. I should have told Sam what was happening. But I was ashamed. My constant need for people pleasing, especially my parents, has brought me to this place.
Out of habit, I look at my wrist to get the time from the watch Sam gave me, and I remember I’m not wearing it. Because of him. Instead, I glance at the clock on the wall, its ticking echoing throughout the heavy air of the room, weighing me down. Sam should be here in fifteen minutes. I bite my nails down to the quick as I think about my life and what got me to this place.
Being an only child, with a father who suffers from a traumatic brain injury he sustained during a terrible car accident, brings on a lot of challenges. I put a lot of pressure on myself to be the perfect obedient child at home. My mom couldn’t be worrying about me messing up when she had Dad to take care of after his accident. She needed to concentrate on helping him get better, not on me. I was twelve when it happened, and his recovery was long, hard, and traumatic.
Which led to a lot of loneliness for me, lack of friends, and stress at home as my dad lost job after job. Then, to help us financially, Dad thought turning to gambling was a brilliant idea. It quickly became a full-blown addiction. I stayed out of my parents’ way during this time, causing distance in our relationship.
But when Sam came into my life, suddenly, a future felt possible. I wasn’t alone anymore.
Now, though, as I wait for Sam, I feel more alone than I ever have in my life.
I keep envisioning the look on his face when I hand him this envelope. I lower my head in shame at the thought. All of this is shattering my heart and, once again, the tears pool in my eyes. Pushing down the sadness, I release a breath as the couch shifts beside me.
I have been a shell of myself these past six weeks. I haven’t been eating or sleeping. And I know Sam has noticed these changes. I’m sure he senses something is wrong. Whenever he asks me if I’m okay, nothing but love and genuine concern fill his questions. But I lie and say I’m fine.
If he only knew.
“I’ll be right back,” I choke out to him, not wanting to make eye contact. Before he can protest, I stand, sit the letter down on the coffee table, and make a beeline to the bathroom on the other side of the house. I need a moment to be alone.
As soon as I shut the door and turn on the faucet, I brace myself against the icy surface of the sink with clutched hands. Raising my head, I peer at the mirror, and I hate the person staring back at me. She’s a liar. And she deserves to live a life full of misery and pain.
Before I can stop it, the weeping begins. I cover my mouth to stifle the sobs as I crumble to the floor and curl up into a ball, hugging my knees to my chest. Then, my whole body starts to tremble uncontrollably. The emptiness and coldness that my life has become are bubbling to the surface. The tears flow, and I can’t make them stop.
I’m not sure I even want to.
In the background, the opening and shutting of the refrigerator and the clanking of dishes lets me know he must be making something to eat.
Wow! This is no big deal for him , I guess.
It breaks my heart even more to know that for him, this is just another ordinary day.
My grief is overwhelming, and the sobs become uncontrollable.
I don’t give a crap if he hears me.
As I cry like a little girl, I mourn the death of my life with Sam. The realization of the pain I am about to inflict on the man I love only causes more tears, and I weep for the consequences of my actions. I don’t know if he will ever be able to forgive me. The weight of my decision hangs heavy in the air of this small bathroom.
I have no clue how long I have been sobbing on the cold tile. I realize, though, that I need to get out of here and back out there to him . On unsteady legs, I peel myself off of the floor, step onto the blue shag bath mat, and look in the mirror. My face is red, blotchy, and my eyes are puffy from crying. As I splash water on my face, the coolness instantly jolts me, and I reach for a towel to pat my skin dry gently. I glance at myself one last time and try to memorize the face of the girl that still has Sam in her life. Because in a few minutes, that will all change. Sam will be here any second for our date, with no clue that a bomb is going to blow up his life.
Hopefully, one day soon, I can explain. But for now, lies need to be told.
I need to do this for my parents.
Because I am always the girl that makes everyone happy. I am willing to bear the burden, regardless of the cost to both myself and Sam.
The boy I fell in love with that day in the cafeteria.