Chapter Twenty One #4

only one who suffered? It killed me—telling you I wanted to be

friends! I missed you so damn much. But he was going to come after

me again! He may not have really sent that message, but he wasn't

going to just let it go. He was going to hurt me, and if you were

my boyfriend he was going to hurt you too. You could've gotten

killed! You think I could live with myself knowing—"

I'm only aware I'm sobbing

when his arms wrap around me and pull me into his strong chest,

cutting off my rant. He doesn't say anything, just holds me and

rubs his palm soothingly up and down my back, letting me cry out

the memory of that terror. Of the fear of knowing Sam could become

collateral damage of my choices.

I'm afraid to pull back and

look at him, so scared he's only holding me because of my pitiful

tears, that he won't forgive me. "I'm sorry I lied. I'm so sorry

Sam. But I just thought that if I gave you up as something more,

then I could keep from really losing you. Because if he… Oh, God,

Sam, please don't hate me," I plead with him. I don't know what

else to do. I just got him back, and the lie that broke us up in

the first place might destroy us before we ever even have a

chance.

He pulls back then, but

doesn't let me go, and it compels me to finally meet his gaze. But

his words are the last ones I'm expecting.

"Cam's death wasn't your

fault."

They startle me, and I try

to pull away, but Sam doesn't release me.

"This doesn't have anything

to do with—"

"The hell it

doesn't."

I blink at him.

"You think you're to blame

for his accident, and you're not. And you broke my fucking heart

because you were afraid of history repeating itself."

My lips twitch in the

mimic of a reply, but I don't actually have one. He knows me too

well. He knows fucking everything, and right now I hate that.

There's no point in denying it, so I don't. Instead, I correct him

on the part he got wrong.

"I am to

blame."

Sam shakes his head, and

something tells me he was expecting my response. I hate that

too.

"It was a car accident,

Rory. He made the choice to get into that car in that weather. I'm

pretty sure you told me you did everything you could to prevent him

from getting involved."

Exactly. "I lied to him too. I told him Robin was still out of town

so I could have time to file the police report early the next

morning, so Robin would be arrested by the time he even woke up.

But he read my text messages while I slept. By the time I woke up,

he—" I choke on my own words. I can't finish the sentence out loud,

but in my mind the words ring loud and clear—he was dying.

"So you think you should

have been the one out on the road that morning instead." Sam seems

almost offended.

"I…" I trail off. I don't

know what to say. It's not that I think I should have died in Cam's

place.

Or maybe that's exactly

what it is.

I shrug, finding the waves

that Sam seemed to have found so fascinating moments ago. "The fact

is, if it weren't for me, Cam would still be alive."

Sam shakes his head.

"You've got to stop measuring how things would have been if it

weren't for you. Or if you're going to keep on asking yourself what

would or wouldn't have happened if not for you, well then at least

look at the whole picture. Cam would have been miserable without

you—"

I stop him, I can't listen

to this. "You have no idea—"

"He would have been

without his best friend, whom he loved, without you."

I gasp and pull out of his

arms. Sam is taking this way too far and I'm shocked at his gall. I

glare at him, my blood on fire and my eyes awash with tears that I

refuse to let fall again. "Don't you dare talk about him. You

weren't there!"

Sam takes a step forward,

and I take an answering step back. How could he bring Cam up like

this? He doesn't know! He wasn't

there!

He runs his teeth over his

bottom lip, and I can see in the tensing of his muscles that he

wants to reach for me, but he doesn't. He wants to comfort me, but

he doesn't want to push me, and so he keeps his arms trained

stiffly at his sides.

"But I'm here," he

whispers insistently.

I blink at him, my vision

blurred by unshed tears that I will away fervently.

"I don't have to have been

there to know how he felt. I know how I feel. I know he chose to take a

risk that morning, and I'm sorry it got him killed, Ror. I'm sorry

you had to lose your best friend. I'm sorry you're hurting, that

you may always hurt for losing him. But I'm here. And I know that I would do

anything for you. I would do anything to protect you, to keep you

safe. And if that means putting myself at risk to do it… well, it

wouldn't stop me."

I watch him intently, half

in shock that he's talking about Cam, but mostly I'm just soaking

in his words. Processing hearing him say he'd do anything for me. I

don't want him in any kind of danger over me. Not ever. But there's

a strange kind of comfort, of security, in hearing it. In feeling

like I have someone who will look out for me. Who cares for

me.

Who loves me.

And for the first time I

feel my guilt over Cam's death start to lift from my shoulders, if

only marginally. Because even though I would take it back in a

microsecond, for the first time I consider that given the choice,

maybe he wouldn't. Maybe he would always stand by his decision to

defend me. It sure does sound like Cam.

"No one's to blame for

that accident, Ror. Not even that

motherfucking bastard. And from what I

know of your friend Cam, he understood the risk he was taking. And

he still took it. For you. Because he wouldn't have been able to

live with himself otherwise. And he definitely wouldn't have been

able to live with himself if it were you who ended up in an

accident that morning." Sam takes a deep breath." He knew what he

was doing, Ror. It's not your fault," he insists. "I know because I

know that I'd risk my life, my future, to keep you safe. No matter

what it takes, and I won't apologize for it either."

They're beautiful words,

but they're also terrifying.

It takes me a few moments

to find my voice, and when I do, it's weak and tremulous. "That's

just it, Sam. How could I survive if something happened to

you?"

"It won't."

"You can't know that!" He

doesn't know what it's like—the suddenness of death. Cam was there

one minute, holding me and comforting me, and the next, he was gone

forever.

"You're right. I can't.

But I do know that whatever happens, whoever tries to hurt you,

whatever ends up happening, I'm always better off for being with

you. There's no kind of life worth giving you up for," he says

meaningfully.

"Well maybe I just feel

the same way. What then?"

Sam smiles wistfully.

"Then maybe I understand why you did what you did."

There's a long silence

where we just stare at one another, at an impasse, and at the same

time, coming to an understanding.

"I'm sorry I lied to you,"

I whisper.

"I'm sorry for being a

total hypocrite."

I don't bother pretending

I don't know what he's referring to. The lie of the Facebook

message may have lasted only a few hours, but it came from the same

place, one of wanting to protect the person he loved, and it caused

pain. And I know just like me, he regrets the lie, regrets the

pain, but doesn't regret where it came from.

"No more lies." It's my

promise and my request.

"No more lies, baby," he

agrees before pulling me back into his arms.

If ads affect your reading experience, click here to remove ads on this page.