“Don’t cry, Sam. Please. Come sit down. I can’t reach you over there.”
She covered her face with her hands and stepped backward until she bumped the wall. She held one last thread of hope—it couldn’t be true.
“No, this way . . .”
Without removing her hands, Sam stood still.
“Let me explain.”
She shook her head, her face still hidden.
“Then listen from right there.” Alex cleared his throat. “Grace House solicited my foundation years ago. You started out as just another grant. But when I read your college writing, I wanted to know you. Father John thought you needed to be drawn out, and I thought letters would be a good way to achieve that. I never expected more.” Alex delivered the speech all in one breath, then stopped and inhaled.
“But you came to campus. I slammed into you.” Her voice sounded sharp in her own ears. She moved her hands down—just enough to see him over her fingertips.
“You did.” Alex smiled softly. “You barreled out of that lecture hall and into my life. I came to campus to catch a glimpse of you, not to meet you.” He paused. “I didn’t plan it. You could say ‘I was in the middle before I knew I had begun.’”
“Not funny. Quoting Darcy will not get you out of this. First that proposal and now this . . . You asked me to marry you. Was I going to stumble across my letters someday? How long were you going to let me write? Forever? Were you—”
“Sam, stop. I wanted to tell you. I was going to, I promise.”
“But you didn’t. Not until I pushed you into meeting me. Not until . . . you read my lette—in the e-mail! How could you do this to me?” She fluttered her hands, trying to encompass the enormity of the pain and exposure.
Alex leaned forward and stretched out his hand. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I tried so many times, and I tried not to cross that line. To keep a distance until you knew the truth. I screwed up.”
“You crossed that line every day. With every letter. Kyle, you know about Kyle . . . my appendix, my classes . . . why I run . . . my parents, Josh . . . you know all about him.” Sam gasped. “You’re another Josh.”
“Don’t say that. I love you. Every bit of you. I’m not a Josh.” Alex’s voice became hoarse and raspy. “Please forgive me.”
“I . . . I can’t. You’re not who I thought you were.” Sam dropped her hands and watched Alex’s eyes travel with them. His gaze rested on her fists, clenched at her sides. Neither spoke. And then she did the only thing she could—she turned and walked out the door.
As she rounded the corner, she heard Alex gulp in a wrecked breath. It sounded like a sob, but she refused to consider it. She reached the hall before her legs gave way, and she grabbed the wall for support. She looked toward the lobby and remembered the Muirs waited there. She couldn’t handle their questions. Not now. She slid down the wall and held her head in her hands.How could he?
Her legs ached. Eventually the thoughts stopped firing and only a soft gray color remained in her mind. She slid further down and sat, truly believing she could rest there and never move again. She closed her eyes and knocked the back of her head against the wall. The thump felt good.
She felt someone sit next to her, but she didn’t open her eyes.
“I thought I’d find you out here.” The professor. Dad.
“You know?”
“He told us everything last night. I’ve never been so angry in my life. I don’t know what he was thinking. The cowardice, the deceit . . .”
“I can’t forgive him.”
“You don’t have to. You can walk away.”
“Walk away?” Sam’s eyes popped open.
“You trusted Mr. Knightley. Alex betrayed that trust. He played false.” The anger in his voice startled her. She knew how deeply he loved Alex.
Sam closed her eyes and imagined life without Alex, and then she pictured Alex’s life without the Muirs. She saw herself walking away.No Alex. Then her heart squeezed tight.No Alex?And the Muirs? Life without the Muirs would kill him. Was that what she wanted to do to him?
The professor cut through her thoughts. “I guarantee this whole thing terrified Alex. What a mess. I haven’t seen him so invested, not even in—”
“He was scared, Dad. You said it yourself, and even I see that.” Sam thumped her head against the wall again, letting weariness wash over her.
“That doesn’t excuse him.”
