32. Rowan #2
“No,” he counters, wiping my tear away with his palm. “I would’ve told you eventually. I just needed my family on board first.”
His family. The reminder hits me in the solar plexus. They betrayed me too. I thought they were my friends. But from what Samson just said, they didn’t trust me. Not even at the end.
“I’m sorry.” I hiccup a sob, pushing gently out of his hold. This time, he lets me go. “I want to trust you, I do. But I can’t.”
My answer doesn’t seem to bother him. “What can I do to earn your trust? Tell me. Whatever it is, I can do it.”
I didn’t think my heart could break further, but it does.
Because how can he prove I can trust him when I can’t let him in again?
How can I explain that I don’t deserve happiness, and this situation proves it?
That this thing between us was doomed from the start because that’s how it always goes for me?
I’m saved from answering by the door to the studio opening. Derek, the owner, freezes on the threshold. His tiny eyes narrow as he notes how close Samson and I are standing. “Am I interrupting something?”
Samson turns on a dime, shoving me behind him as he faces Derek with clenched fists. “Who the fuck are you?”
I groan inwardly. This is so not what I needed.
“I’m the owner,” Derek says, shrinking back slightly before remembering his usual pompous attitude. “And I’d like to know why one of my instructors is engaging in inappropriate behavior with a student.”
Samson growls, but I squeeze his waist. This isn’t a battle I need or want him to fight for me. He must understand my meaning, because he takes a single step to the side, letting me face Derek. “Nothing inappropriate is happening. We were having a conversation. That’s all.”
Derek sniffs, nodding toward the door. “Well, I need a moment of Rowan’s time. So if you’ll excuse us.”
Samson’s jaw bunches, but he nods, striding over to where he left his bag.
He takes his sweet time, and I know he’s not going to leave without hearing whatever Derek has to say.
Part of me is grateful. Derek never comes with good news.
Usually he just stops in to tell me I’m getting yet another pay cut rather than the promotion I so richly deserve.
I bite back my sigh, smiling at my boss. “What can I do for you? If it’s about the show, I’m happy to report that everything is good to go. We’re almost fully sold out, too.”
Derek bustles over, ignoring Samson now. He doesn’t bother to check if he’s left before launching into what is clearly a prepared speech. “I’m going to be blunt with you. Rent’s gone up, and classes aren’t bringing in what we need them to.”
An icy sensation starts at the top of my head. It slowly slides down my face. My arms. My torso. My legs. No. Absolutely not. No.
“I’ve had an offer from a developer,” Derek blusters on. “It’s a good deal. Far too good to ignore.”
I’m numb. Completely frozen. Somehow, I manage to make my lips move. “What are you saying?”
He shifts his eyes off to the side, like he can’t bear to look at me while he destroys the little I have left in the world. “I’m selling this place. I’m sorry. I know this studio is your home, but I can’t justify the running costs.”
There’s one word ricocheting around in my mind. Developer. “They aren’t keeping the studio, are they?”
Derek winces and shakes his head. “They’re going to put up an apartment block. There’s a great need for it, apparently.”
“No,” I seethe. “There’s plenty of housing in St. Dismas, and we both know it. What there’s a great need for is art. A place for children to express themselves. For adults to find joy they thought they’d lost. That’s what’s needed, Derek, not greed!”
“I’m sorry,” he repeats, already backing out of the room, not looking sorry at all. “But it’s done. We close in two weeks.”
I’m speechless as he leaves. I temporarily forget that I’m not alone, right up until Samson appears in front of me.
His large hands cup my face. “Rowan, I’m so—”
“Just go.” I can’t hear another apology from him. The inches my guard had lowered earlier are gone now. This news has my walls so high I don’t think there’s any hope of it ever retreating again. “Please.”
“I’m not leaving you while you’re upset.”
If Samson plans on staying until I’m happy, he’ll be waiting for eternity. I don’t think I’ll ever be happy again.
See, this is what happens. Anything I love is taken from me. My parents. Adam. Samson. Now I’m losing dance, too. My job. Oh god. What am I going to do?
I’m seconds away from breaking. Part of me wants to let Samson catch the pieces, but that’ll just be setting me up for even more hurt.
I don’t think I’d survive it.
“Please,” I repeat softly. “If you ever loved me, just go.”
Samson sighs before he presses a kiss firmly to my forehead. “Fine. But I won’t stay away. I’m going to win you back, I promise.”
His words barely register. I’m too numb. Reeling from everything that’s just happened.
“Now’s not the time. It’s really not,” I say, my voice cracking.
His hand slips from me, and I feel the loneliness creep in, the complete loss.
There’s nothing graceful about how I collapse to the floor. Or the sobs that are torn from my lungs.
This is what you deserve, a cruel voice whispers. All you’ll ever deserve. No matter what you’ve done in life, this is all you’ll ever have. Regrets and broken dreams.
It’s true. I thought maybe things could be different, but I was wrong.
Adam won’t know happiness, and neither will I.