Chapter 17
Sam called a couple of times since I spoke to him on Friday, and I couldn’t bring myself to answer his calls. I texted him short responses so that he didn’t think I was totally ignoring him again. I know he’s going to be upset that I didn’t go to Charleston.
Liv and I had planned to drive over together, but when it was time to leave yesterday, I just couldn’t bring myself to go.
I walk over to the front door and peek out the peephole to see who's there. Sighing, I open the door. “Sam. What are you doing here?” My tone is flat, laced with the exhaustion I’m feeling.
“You said you would be in Charleston for Thanksgiving. I got there this afternoon only to find out you didn’t get in the car with Liv.” I flinch at his harsh tone.
Without inviting him in, I turn and walk towards the kitchen to get a glass of water. I hear the door click closed followed by his footsteps trailing behind me.
“I don’t want to be around everyone right now.”
“Kat.” His voice is suddenly gentle, which causes me to stop and look at him. God, why does he always look so good? “I know it’s been hard, but—”
“You don’t get it, Sam,” I cut him off. “It’s been a month. AN ENTIRE MONTH!” I realize I’m shouting when his face bleaches.
I blow out a breath before continuing.
“It’s like no one cares. Everyone is just moving on, and…
and I feel so lost. Ethan and I talked all the time.
Do you know how hard it’s been to want to tell him something and dial his number only to realize he’s gone?
Or to text him some stupid meme and realize it won’t get to him?
Every time I think about that last phone call, it feels like I can’t breathe. ”
Did I say I love you?
“Yes. Yes, I do know what that’s like.” He looks like I’ve slapped him. His shoulders are high and his expression is tight. “Ethan and I talked all the time, too. Fuck, Kat. He was my best friend. I lost him, too.”
I just stare at him—too angry to talk to him.
“Your parents lost him. And right now, they need you. We aren’t all just moving on. We’re doing the best we can to live while also dealing with the fact that Ethan is gone.” He looks around the small kitchen, running his hand through his hair.
Sam fixes his attention on me again. He winces slightly at whatever he sees in my expression and sighs, exasperated.
What the fuck does he have to be exasperated about? I’m about to ask him—gearing up for a fight when he continues.
“We have a lot to talk about, Kat.” I ball my hands into fists by my side, feeling the tension in my body. “Right now, you look like you need to sleep. I’ll be here tomorrow morning, and we can talk while I drive us to Charleston.”
My stomach drops, and I start to panic at the thought of him leaving. “Sam.” I rush to stop him. “Where are you going?”
“One of the hotels in town that has a room available. Have any suggestions?” It sounds more like a challenge than a question.
I can’t let him leave. “Stay with me. I mean here. Stay here. At my place.”
Why do I feel like I just reverted to that 14-year-old girl with a crush on her brother's best friend?
I sigh, trying to clear my head. “I don’t know how Liv would feel about me offering up her room. But you can sleep on the couch?”
He considers it, and for a moment, I think he’s going to decline. “Thanks. If you tell me where I can find a pillow and a blanket, I’ll take the couch.” His expression loosens, and I see his body physically relax. “I’ll get us breakfast in the morning and then drive us to your parents’ house.”
For some reason, his words cause the anger to flare up. “You don’t need to coddle me, you know?” It comes out as little more than a grumble.
“Coddle you? You’re kidding, right?” He snorts with disgust.
“No. I mean, I know I’ve relied on you a lot to get me through school and now everything going on with…
Ethan.” His name comes out choked and I clear my throat to try to stop the tears from starting.
“The funeral and everything else.” I wave my hand in the air as if gesturing to everything and nothing. “But I’ll be ok.”
He shakes his head. “I haven’t been coddling you. Did you ever think that maybe I needed you sitting next to me, holding my hand, just as much as you needed me? Did you think that maybe I needed it more than you did? Because I’ve taken comfort from you, too.
“Every time I’ve reached for your hand. Every time I’ve hugged you. Every touch, every look, every phone call, every text has helped me. Has made me feel some semblance of normalcy in this fucked up situation.” He looks at the ground and shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans.
When he speaks again, his voice is so quiet I almost struggle to hear him. “I wasn’t coddling you. I needed, need you.”
Shit. I’m an asshole.
He turns to walk away. If I let him walk away, I’m afraid this will be it.
I’ll lose him for good this time. I can’t let that happen, so I grab his wrist before he fully turns from me.
“Don’t go.” He allows me to gently pull him towards me.
“I’m sorry. I… what I said was selfish. I’m sorry. Please don’t go, Sam.”
Sam’s shoulders are slumped forward, and he won’t look at me—he just stares at the ground. But he doesn’t say anything.
Finally, his eyes meet mine, but his expression is blank, his eyes are like two black holes.
I try again, softer. “Please don’t go, Sam.” Still holding his wrist, I reach my other hand up to cup his cheek and run my thumb gently across his cheekbone. I relax a little when he closes his eyes and leans into my palm.
Shifting my gaze to his chest, I’m not sure how long I watch it rise and fall with each breath he takes, the action somehow calming my ragged nerves.
I’ve been incredibly selfish with him. I know Ethan meant a lot to Sam. I just can’t seem to get out of my own head and out of my own grief to see that Sam is struggling, too.
He hasn’t cried, or at least, I haven’t seen him cry, and he doesn’t really talk about Ethan. I guess it’s made me feel like maybe this isn’t as hard for Sam. But that isn’t fair. He shouldn’t have to grieve the way I do for me to know he’s hurting too.
Finally, he reaches up and brushes some loose hair behind my ear. I drop my hand from his cheek and raise my gaze to his. I remain completely still as Sam runs his thumb along the side of my face and across my jaw.
My breath hitches when his thumb glides along my lips. I want him to kiss me. I crave it. But he drops his hand and takes a small step back.
Once he finally meets my gaze, I see pain in his eyes, but his tone is soft when he finally speaks, “Ok. I’ll stay. Go to sleep, Kat. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
I grab him a blanket and pillow from the cupboard and make sure he’s settled in. Even though it’s still early, I’m exhausted. So, I say goodnight, point out which room is mine in case he needs anything, and head back to bed.
***
I’m not sure what time it is, but when I wake up, it's still dark outside. The clock glows 11:00 p.m.
Rolling over on my side, I stare at my bedroom door. Thinking about Sam sleeping on my couch. I can’t believe how much I hurt him tonight.
I tell myself I just want to make sure he’s still here when I get out of bed and quietly open my bedroom door.
This is stupid. Of course, he’s still here.
Hesitating only for a moment, I convince myself I just need to see him so that I can go back to sleep.
But as I walk into the living room, Sam is sitting on the bright orange couch, very much awake, with his head in his hands, elbows on his knees. He’s changed into running shorts, that show off his muscular thighs, and a loose T-shirt. He looks so sad, and the sight breaks my heart.
Hearing my approach, his eyes slowly meet mine.
“Can’t sleep?” Sam’s voice is quiet as his eyes drop down the length of my body and back up.
My hair is up in a messy bun, and I’m wearing tiny shorts and a tank top—my typical sleepwear.
When his eyes land on mine again, they flicker, turning dark, but the look is quickly replaced with uncertainty as his lips turn down slightly.
“I was asleep, but I woke up. I’m not sure why I came out here.” I quickly look down the hallway towards my room before looking back at him. Despite my unconfident words, I straighten my shoulders and step towards him. “I’m so sorry for what I said earlier. I’m so sorry for hurting you.”
Sam stands up and walks towards me. “I’m sorry I was so harsh with you. I know you miss him, and I should have been more understanding with you. I’m struggling with this, too.” He stops a couple of steps away from me, his arms crossed in front of him.
He looks down at the ground. “I think about him every day. About how it would be easier for everyone if it had been me instead of him.” I’m struck silent by Sam’s words.
“You would be better off if he were here instead of me. I can’t fill the void he left.
Not with myself, not with your parents, and not with you. ” Tears stream down his face.
Easier if it had been him?
I slowly step towards Sam as he raises his hands and covers his face. I reach up and gently tug his hands down. His eyes are red-rimmed, and his hands shake slightly in mine. He still won’t look at me.
Life would not be easier for anyone if Sam wasn’t here. Do I miss Ethan? Yes. Do I wish he was here? Yes. But do I think anything would be different if Sam had died instead? No. I would be in a similar state of hell.
Except that Sam doesn’t know what he means to me. Ethan—fuck, Ethan did.
Of course, he knew I loved him.
I hold his hands as I speak quietly, “Things would not be easier if it had been you, Sam. Life would not be easier for any of us.” I kiss both of his hands before I let them go and softly place my hands on each side of his face. “Please look at me.”
His eyes finally meet mine, and I continue speaking, “Don’t ever say something like that again. Don’t even think it.” I plant a gentle kiss on his cheek. “Please don’t ever think that things would be easier for me without you. I would not be better if you weren’t here. I need you, Sam.”
He breaks at my words. Sam grips my waist, pulling me to him. I hold him tight against me as his body wracks with sobs. Rubbing soothing patterns up and down his muscular back, I nuzzle my cheek into his chest, breathing in the faint scent of his cologne—pines and the salty sea air.
When his body stops shaking, I speak again, “I think I’ve been feeling pretty lost without him.
I’m angry that he isn’t here. I was upset about what you were saying, but I know you’re right.
I can’t lose myself and lock myself up. I shouldn’t have lashed out at you.
That wasn’t fair.” The words are slightly muffled as I say them into his chest.
He grips me tighter. Sam’s voice is little more than a whisper when he speaks again, “he would know what to say, what to do, to make things better. I'm so lost without him.”
He leans back just enough to look down at me while keeping me locked in his arms. He kisses the top of my head before whispering. “You should go back to bed; I’ll grab us some breakfast before we head out in the morning, so don’t worry if I’m not here when you wake.”
I shake my head no at him. He looks at me like he’s about to argue.
I speak up before he gets the wrong idea, “I don’t want you to sleep on the couch.
” He flinches, so I hurry on. “I’m not kicking you out, Sam.
You’re much too big for the couch.” I gesture toward it. “I’m asking you to sleep in my bed.”
The surprise that flashes across his face makes me want to laugh, but this isn’t the time for that.
“We can put pillows down the middle if that makes you feel more comfortable. But my bed will be way more comfortable than that thing.” I gesture toward the couch again.
“Afraid I might get handsy with you?” He offers me a sad smile.
I look down at the floor to avoid his gaze when I speak because I wish he would touch me. “No. I…”
I’m unable to resist the blush rising to my cheeks in embarrassment when I realize he must be teasing me. I smack his arm. “Come on.” I grab his hand and pull him towards my room.