Chapter 8
Nine years old.
“What are you doing, Kitty Kat? Hey, Livie.” Sam spent the night at our house again last night. He spends a lot of time here.
During the school year, his dad drops him off in the morning, and Mom takes us all to school. Then she picks us up, and we do our homework or play games until after dinner.
During the summer, Sam stays over all the time and usually spends the night.
He’s basically like a second older brother.
He tries to include me in things, and when Ethan isn’t feeling well or is still sleeping, Sam will hang out with me.
Sometimes we just read books outside. Other times, he will play Barbies with me, or we build Legos; sometimes, we play Mario Kart or watch movies.
“Liv and I are planning on hanging out and reading outside. Want to come?”
Liv’s house is just a couple of houses away. I wish she could spend as much time here as Sam does, but her parents won’t let her. She’s still here almost every day during the summer, though.
“Nah, I’m just waiting for Ethan to put on his shoes, and then we’re gonna ride our bikes to the park.”
“Wait, I want to go to the park. Liv, wanna go, too?” She nods excitedly at me.
“Can we come, too, Sammy?”
“Yeah, but hurry up and get dressed. I’ll go tell your mom.”
Liv and I run off to change our clothes. The four of us spent the afternoon riding our bikes, swinging, playing tag, and eating snow cones.
We’re riding our bikes back to my house, and I’m in front with Liv.
Suddenly, I see a car run a stop sign, and I have to slam on the brakes—my bike skids and then crashes to the ground.
Tears well in my eyes as I feel the sting of pain in my knee, leg, and the palm of my hand on the side I landed on.
“Oh my God, Kat!” Sam shouts as he and Ethan slide to a stop next to me.
“Let me have a look.” Ethan’s voice is calm, soothing. He’s fuzzy as I look up at him through the tears blurring my vision. “Shhh. It’ll be ok. Let me look at you to make sure it isn’t anything too serious.” I nod at him as Liv takes hold of my uninjured hand.
I hiss a little when Ethan helps me move over so he can examine my leg. “It isn’t too bad. But we need to get you home and clean these out, so they don’t get worse.”
I wipe the tears from my cheeks with the back of my good hand and look up at Ethan. “I don’t think I can ride home.”
“I’ll walk both of our bikes back, Kitty Kat.” Sam looks at me with concern.
“Thanks, Sammy.” I look at him, grateful for his help. Ethan helps me stand up and then picks up his and Liv’s bikes from the ground. Sam already has his and mine, and the four of us slowly walk home.
When we get home, I can’t hold back the tears any longer as Mom cleans and bandages the gashes.
Sam, Liv, Ethan, and I spend the rest of the day eating ice cream sundaes and watching Disney movies together.
***
Present Day
Sam and I walk into my parents’ house, and I pause the moment we step inside. “What’s wrong, Kitty Kat?” Sam stops walking, too, and looks back at me. Worry etched across his expression.
I think I hear Philip’s voice, but that doesn’t make any sense. “I… I think I hear Philip.”
“Who’s Philip?”
I ignore his question and walk towards the voices I hear.
Philip and I work for the same law firm in Columbia. We met when I was a first-year associate, and he was a third-year associate. Philip was handsome in a traditional way: tall, broad shoulders, blue eyes, and blonde hair. Many of the women at the firm had crushes on him.
I thought he was an asshole. He walked around the firm like he owned the place. Arrogance wafted from every pore of his body. I knew he was going to be the death of me. Probably because I wouldn’t be able to hold back stabbing him with my pen, or calling him an asshole to his face.
A few months after I joined the firm, he and I were put on the same case, which required us to spend almost every waking hour together.
That's the thing about being a new associate: you were always assigned the grunt work that required you to be in the office for twelve or more hours each day. Some people enjoy document review. I’m not one of them.
So, there we were, confined to the law firm library with stacks of documents surrounding us, waiting to be reviewed and categorized. To maximize our time, we frequently ordered lunch and dinner and ate while we worked.
When you spend this much time with someone, it’s inevitable to talk and actually get to know them. And that is exactly what we did over the next several months.
Philip’s grandfather was a prominent judge in town. “I feel like everyone expects me to follow in his footsteps. Like, I have to be the best lawyer, better than everyone else. Honestly, Katherine, it’s exhausting.”
After a while, I realized my initial impression of Philip was wrong. He was kind and generous. Slowly, we became friends.
When our document review was finally over, he asked me on a date, and I was ecstatic.
But no matter how much I tried, things never really clicked for me with Philip. I continued our relationship because it was comfortable. And after a year, I knew his feelings ran deeper than mine. I couldn’t let it go on any longer.
I never fell in love with Philip because I was too busy loving someone else. So, I broke things off. It’s been a little over two weeks, and we haven’t really talked since.
I walk into the kitchen, where I see my parents and Philip sitting at the table, chatting and drinking tea. They look like they’ve been buddies for a long time, which is weird because I never introduced him to my family. Sam is right on my heels and stops right behind me, blocking the exit.
“Philip, what are you doing here?” It comes out accusatory as I cross my arms.
Philip stands up and starts to make his way over to me. Before he reaches me, I step back, knocking into Sam’s chest. The heat radiating into my back from Sam is distracting, and I feel my body slightly relax into him.
Philip’s expression flashes with anger, but he quickly schools his features and halts his approach. “Olivia told me what happened. I’m so sorry, baby. I came as quickly as I could.”
What the fuck, Liv?
I hear Sam mutter “baby?” under his breath. I ignore him. It takes everything in me not to look at Philip and correct the endearment he just gave me.
Still leaning against Sam, I straighten up and take the smallest step forward. Not enough to give Philip ideas, but enough to create some distance between Sam’s body pressed against mine.
“Maybe we should talk in the other room.” He looks at me like I’ve wounded him. I do NOT want to have this conversation with an audience—and especially not in front of Sam.
Sam steps aside so we can pass, and I motion for Philip to follow me. Avoiding Sam’s gaze as I walk out of the kitchen, I lead Philip through the formal dining room to the living room on the other side of the house. I sit down in one of the armchairs and point him to the one across from me.
Sitting down, he looks at me tentatively, “You don’t seem happy to see me, baby.”
I sigh heavily, trying to calm my breathing, and just stare at Philip for a moment. “We broke up. Over two weeks ago, we haven’t spoken since. So, I guess I’m just really confused as to why you are in my parents’ home talking to them like you’re besties.”
He has the audacity to appear wounded again. “I honestly just thought you needed a little space. I didn’t think you meant it. I figured I would give you some time to cool off, and then things would go back to normal. I miss you.”
His hopeful expression lights a flame in me. It takes all of my self-control not to lash out at him.
I don’t even know what to say to this revelation. How could he think I didn’t mean it?
Before I can protest, Sam interrupts us. “Hey, Kat, your mom was wondering if your… friend is staying for dinner.” Sam says “friend” like it pains him. He walks fully into the living room and looks at Philip, assessing, finding him wanting.
“Who the fuck is this?” Philip snaps and waves his hand in Sam’s direction.
“Excuse me?” Sam takes a step forward. I quickly raise my hand to stop him and stand up from my seat. Sam’s reaction is both infuriating and delicious. He has never been afraid of standing up for himself; it’s incredibly attractive. I have to force myself to tear my gaze from him.
“Philip, you are in my parents’ home, and you don’t have the right to speak to anyone in this house that way.
” I’m all business now—no more beating around the bush with this guy.
“I don’t know why you came, but I don’t want you here.
” I just want him to leave before Sam and Philip can get further into whatever is going on with them.
Or better yet, before Philip tries to become friends with my parents.
“Baby, I came all this way to see you.” I roll my eyes at Philip. As if he has any right to be upset that I’m not reacting the way he expected I would. As if we hadn’t broken up and haven’t spoken in two weeks. As if I’m not going through hell right now and need to console him.
Sam mutters something under his breath that sounds a lot like “what a douche,” but I can’t be sure.
“He is not staying for dinner.” Sam doesn’t leave the room like I expected him to. When I shift my attention to him, he’s glaring at Philip. If looks could kill…
I clear my throat, grabbing Sam’s attention.
“Will you please give us a moment?” Sam eyes Philip suspiciously, as if he doesn’t trust him to leave me alone with him.
But he nods once and walks out back towards the kitchen.
I watch him briefly; his movements are stiff, his muscular back looks tense, and his hands are balled into fists at his sides.
I wait a moment to make sure Sam is far enough away before I speak again. “I didn’t break up with you because I needed a break.” I blow out my breath. “I broke up with you because this,” I gesture between us, “wasn’t working for me. You’re a good guy, but you aren’t my guy.”
He looks as if I’ve slapped him, but he doesn’t speak.
“You deserve to be with someone who is head over heels for you. I’m not that person. I’m sorry you drove all this way to check on me. That was kind of you. But you need to leave.” I can tell he’s about to protest, so I quickly add, “Philip, please. Don’t make this harder than it needs to be.”
Giving him no room to argue, I walk towards the front of the house. He follows me, pausing before the front door I’ve opened. “I’m here if you change your mind,” and with that, Philip walks out of the house.
I text Liv as I walk back into the kitchen.
You won't believe who just showed up at my parents' house…
***
Philip. Sam and I just got back from a walk and there he was, chatting with my parents like they were old friends.
He. Did. NOT! Is he still there?
He did. And no. I had to ask him to leave. Fuck, he told me he didn't believe I actually wanted to break up with him.
Wait. Walk? With Sam?! Ok. I need ALL the deets, girl!
LOL. I'll call you later.
And you need to explain why you were talking to Philip.
Slipping my phone into my back pocket, I join my parents and Sam back in the kitchen. Sam eyes me like he's trying to piece together my dynamic with Philip, and my parents just look at me questioningly. I slump down into one of the chairs and stare at the stove across the room, not seeing anything.
This fucking day. I can’t believe Olivia is talking to Philip behind my back.
I want to give her the benefit of the doubt, but this is too much.
There’s a reason I never invited Philip to meet my parents or visit my hometown, and I hate that he violated this part of my life without thinking how it would make me feel.
I want to know what he said to my parents. But I don’t have the energy to navigate that—and especially not while Sam is sitting next to me.
I feel the tension radiating off Sam and don’t dare look at him. I don’t think I’ve ever seen Sam possessive over me like that before. Just thinking about it has me feeling flustered.
And the feel of his solid chest against my back?
God.
“Where’s Philip?” Dad asks, breaking my stream of thoughts. Mom nudges him with her elbow.
“He left. I assume he’s on his way back to Columbia.” Sam shifts next to me, placing his arm on the back of my chair. He isn’t touching me, but it still feels possessive. I want to lean into him to feel his warmth again, but I don’t move closer.
Sensing I don’t want to talk about this anymore, Mom speaks up, “Should we order takeout from that Chinese restaurant you love? I’ll order while you two tell us about your day.”
I couldn’t be more grateful to Mom at this moment. She’s always been great at knowing when to change the subject.