Chapter 16 Sam #2
“Thanks, Sam.” Paige beams, swinging one arm loosely around my shoulder in a hug. “Mom, is it okay if I sleep at Marci’s tonight? Her dad will come get us in about an hour.”
“Sure, sweetie.”
The two girls disappear into the house, gabbing and giggling, their voices fading. Behind me, Olivia’s quiet laugh drifts through the night.
“Thank you.” Warmth laces her tone.
I glance over my shoulder and find her coming up the steps, a faint smile tugging at her lips.
“It was nothing.” I gaze into the dark depths of her eyes. “Are you coming too?”
At her nod, I release my pent-up breath and respond with a small smile of my own.
Leading the way inside, I place the food on the counter and twirl back to face her. Impulse wins over caution and I pull her into my arms. I want her close, even if for seconds, and I’m willing to risk it for one more quick embrace.
The way she says my name stops me cold, soft, though laced with warning. A frown pulls at her mouth, and just like that, the air shifts. She steps back, out of reach, the distance between us sudden and sharp. It hits harder than I expect. I made it worse.
Frustration grinds through me, but I bite it down, giving a tight nod as I fish my buzzing phone from my pocket. Alec.
Whatever awkwardness hung between Olivia and me disappears in an instant.
“Hello. What’s wrong?” My heart pounds, a cold pulse climbing up my throat as I brace for the worst.
“Sam, I’m sorry to ask this, but I’m in a bind.” His voice comes through low, tight. “Bas, the dumb fool, didn’t tell me his chemo appointment got rescheduled. It’s tomorrow. I only just found out because the hospital left a reminder message.”
I smile despite the situation, knowing Bas most probably regrets insisting they keep a land line when Alec wanted to get rid of it. Because of it, Alec found out about the appointment.
Alec’s hurried tone cuts through the irony of my thoughts. “I can’t take him. Tomorrow’s the completion of the Westmount project. If it were anything else, I’d drop it, but if I miss this, they could pull the contract. I’d ask Sandrine, but she’s not back till Monday.”
Relief rushes through me, chased by guilt for feeling it. Not bad news, at least not the kind I feared. My heart rate steadies as my head clears.
“I’ll be there. I want to be there. What time?”
“At noon.”
“Okay. I’ll catch the first flight out.”
He pauses and exhales sharply and my chest aches. “Thanks, son. If he’d only told me, I could have moved things around. I’m so angry with him right now. He wants to be brave and do this on his own, thinks he’s sparing us the heartache, but he’s not. I wish he wouldn’t fight me on this.”
Fight us is more like it.
I know exactly how he feels. It’s one thing to fight beside Bas, to fuck cancer and throw everything you’ve got at it. That kind of hell you can brace for, because at least you’re doing something.
This, it’s a different kind of torture, darker and quieter, when the person you love most starts shutting you out. You tell yourself it’s not about you, that you’re not the one sick, but that helplessness—it is brutal. It eats at you.
Bas is stubborn, and I get it. Fear does that. He’s proud, strong, the kind of man who’s never been afraid to own his mistakes or show his heart.
Now, he’s holding back, maybe because he doesn’t want us to see him like this. Maybe because he wants to be remembered for how he lived, not how he dies.
I respect that. I really do.
Yet damn, I wish he’d let us carry some of it with him.
Alec’s voice reaches through the tension building in me. “He won’t say it, but he’ll be glad you’re coming.”
I snort and swallow hard, glancing toward the kitchen where Olivia stands, watching, worry shadowing her face. “We need to talk to him. We can’t go on like this.”
“Yeah, I agree. Hopefully, together we can get through to him. Okay, have a safe flight, and thank you, again. Love you, Sam.”
“Love you too.”
When I hang up, I slip the phone back into my pocket and drag a hand over my jaw. My pulse still thuds, but for a different reason now, part fear, part resolve.
Caught up in thoughts of Bas and Alec’s worry, I head for the front door.
“Sam?” Olivia’s voice pulls me back.
In a flicker of clarity, I realize I almost walked out without saying goodbye. I turn to face her.
“Olivia.” Her name leaves my mouth softer than I intend, but helps me focus on her. “Thanks for today. I really loved having you there, looking at those places with me. And your ideas…damn, they were good. I want to hear more, soon.”
Her smile barely reaches her eyes. It’s small, hesitant, shadowed by something I can’t quite read. I don’t know if it’s my sudden exit or everything that went unsaid between us in the backyard. Still, there’s a distance now. A thin wall I can’t seem to get past.
“Sure.” Her tone may be light, but her body language is anything but.
She wraps an arm around her middle, like she’s bracing against the chill. Or maybe against me.
Something twists in my chest. I want to fix it, to say something that pulls her closer instead of standing here like an idiot and watching her retreat. But my head’s already in Montreal, and my heart’s stuck somewhere between concern for Bas and the ache of leaving her.
“I’ve got to go back to Montreal for a few days. But I’ll be back for Saturday. I’ll leave the tickets at the front desk and text you the details. I hope you come.”
“I hope everything is okay.”
I step closer, leaning in to kiss her, but at the last second, she turns her head. My lips brush her cheek instead.
Standing to my full height, I carefully examine this woman that has me tied up in knots.
This woman who excites me with just the thought of her.
This woman I want to know better.
Thick tension and unspoken words hang heavy in the air between us.
So much promise. So much longing. So much I want to say.
I should tell her about Bas and why I need to leave now. I want to talk about us, about her children, and reassure her we’ll take this slow. I want to tell her everything will be okay, but now is not the time.
Muddled with worry for Bas, I fear any conversation right now would make matters worse. My instinct is to leave things as they are, for now.
“Night, Sam.” Her voice is soft, almost apologetic.
I nod, even though it feels like the wrong ending to a night that started so right. “Goodnight, Olivia.”
She nods, and something flickers in her expression—a mix of sympathy and distance, like she’s already closing the door between us before I’ve even left.
And maybe that’s what hurts most.