Chapter 8

Sean

“Sam?” I call out, closing the door behind me and scanning the quiet apartment. In the dark, I see my leather jacket shift as Sam stirs underneath it. Her eyes are closed and she’s breathing deep and even. Sighing, I squat down beside her and brush a loose strand of dark hair back from her face. I shouldn’t have yelled at her.

Sam hums softly and snuggles in my jacket, wrapping her fingers in the buttery soft worn leather and gripping it tighter to her like a child clutching a teddy bear. The sight of her vulnerable like this again makes my chest ache.

Bundling her up in the blanket that covers her legs, I lift her up into my arms, biting back a growl at how light she feels. Carrying her into her bedroom, my head spins with the potency of her scent. Once I get her tucked up in bed, I pull my jacket away and toss it over the back of a nearby chair. Pulling the door closed, I tiptoe out to the kitchen and set about cooking dinner for us both. As I’m chopping vegetables at the small kitchen island, my gaze catches on a framed picture of us. Sam is seated on one side of the bar, beaming, and looking happy and relaxed. I’m leaning over the bar from the far side to get into the shot. And I hate photos.

This woman is killing me. Why do you ghost someone and then give their picture pride of place in your home? When she left, I assumed it was because she was feeling better and was ready to go back to reality. Maybe I was wrong because this doesn’t make any sense.

An hour later, with dinner going cold, I’m contemplating whether I should wake her or just let her sleep when her distressed whimpers and cries pull me toward her room. When I look in, Sam’s tossing and turning, her beautiful features scrunched up in distress. Shit. When her hands reach out and claw desperately at the sheets, I know exactly which nightmare she’s having. My name tumbling from her lips like a plea is my complete undoing.

I dash to her side and lie down, taking her hands in mine and letting her cling to me. Her heartbeat settles instantly as she grips my t-shirt and wraps a leg over mine. She clambers higher to rest her head on my shoulder and buries her face in my chest, signing in contentment as she inhales deeply against the material and whispers my name once more.

Fuck. I’m done for. The feelings that I tried to push deep down come roaring back to the surface again, and I want to pull her to me and keep her there forever. I want to slay every demon that visits her dreams and protect her from the world. I stay there, texting John to make sure the bar is okay and letting him know where to find me if he needs me.

Hours later, after watching her wake a few times but re-settle whenever she realised I was there, I finally drift off too. I know this is a bad idea, and maybe she won’t be happy to find me in her bed when she wakes up, but I can’t bear to leave her when she’s drawing comfort from me being close. Whatever it costs me, I’ll stay as long as she needs me.

***

The cool early morning light is already filtering through the curtains when Sam stirs and looks up at me, bleary-eyed. She smiles softly and stretches like a cat. I see the moment that she realises we’re not in Grey Ridge, cocooned in my little house. Her weight shifts off me as she goes to roll away, unwrapping her arm and leg from around my body.

“Shh. Sam, it’s ok. You were having a nightmare. When I came in to check on you, I laid down for a minute beside you and I must have conked,” I lie and she lets me.

“I’m sorry…” she starts, and I shake my head at her.

“No Sam. You don’t need to be sorry. Not with me.” She looks up at me and my breath catches. I remember this soft, open version of Sam, and I miss it. Little miss spitfire's personality is no act, but there’s this other side of her that only her closest friends get to see.

“I am sorry. For last night. For everything.”

I knew this conversation had to happen, but every fiber of my being is screaming at me to get up and walk out the door. After baring my soul last night and blurting out what she must have guessed before, but I never said out loud, I don’t want to hear some half-hearted explanation of why she left me. But I’m going to. I screw my eyes shut and grit my teeth.

“Look at me,” she begs, and I relent, meeting her gaze. “I don’t know why I did it.”

Well, shit, I wasn’t expecting that. She shifts up the bed so we’re sitting side by side, backs pressed against the soft tufted headboard. I scoff because that’s rubbish. There has to have been a reason.

“That night Sean, I can’t even explain it. It’s the happiest I’ve ever been.” She turns her head to look at me, but I can’t face her, picking a point on the far wall to concentrate on again. “When you got into the shower, I was about to get in with you.” She laughs and then stops abruptly, wringing her hands in her lap when I don’t react.

“Then why didn’t you?” I ask, hating myself for wanting to know.

“Because it was so perfect.”

“That doesn’t make any sense,” I grumble. Sam is a straight shooter. If there was a problem, I would have expected her to just say it.

“Sean, I’m a wreck. What was I going to do? Give up my job and move in with you? Take over your life and rely on you completely? Be glued to your side all the time, so I don’t freak out. So that I can just sleep? That’s not healthy. It was all one way. You had no choice. You just got stuck with me.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?!” I explode, finally turning to face her properly. “No choice? I’m a big boy, Sam. Do you think if I didn’t want you there that I’d let you into my bed? That I’d have opened my home to you? That we’d have made love?”

“But I’m a mess…” she moans, hands over her face. “And my job, I need to get back… I panicked! Once I got myself together, I was going to come back and beg you to forgive me, but as soon as we were apart, I just got worse and worse. Some catch I’d be. I would have been a burden you shouldn’t have to take on.”

“You could have spoken to me and told me you wanted to go back, that you needed to go back. That would have been the decent thing to do.”

She falls silent then, nodding, looking resigned and regretful.

“I knew I was falling for you. I thought it would be easier to just go, like pulling off a band-aid, then wait for you to get sick of me hanging around like a lost puppy.”

“You were my puppy. And if you think I’d have ever treated you like that, then you don’t know me at all.”

Climbing out of the bed, I snag my jacket off the bag of the chair as I leave. I’ve been so angry for months, but a little seed of doubt has planted itself now in the back of my mind, niggling away. How could she know me? I never showed her all of me. Never explained why it would be so unfathomable for me to ever want her to leave.

“Call in sick Sam. We’re going on a road trip.”