“It doesn’t, butyoucan’t walk away.”
“I won’t,” the professor whispered and bumped her shoulder.
She opened her eyes to find him watching her.
“I love him like he’s my own son.” He paused and bumped her shoulder again. “But youaremy daughter, dear Samantha, and I stand with you. I will do whatever is needed to protect you. You can walk away and never see Alex again if that is your wish.”
Sam felt a single tear fall as she absorbed the depth of his commitment and love for her. She sat for a moment. “I don’t know.”
He smiled, soft and knowing. “What don’t you know?”
“Part of me wants to walk. I’ll admit it.” Sam swiped at fresh tears. “But, Dad, that’s not who I want to be, always running away. This summer meant more than that. Alex and I . . . we became friends. No, we were more than that. We understood each other. I let him in, Dad.” Sam paused. “I thought when he walked away this fall that I’d misunderstood, but I hadn’t.”
The professor took her hand and squeezed it, but he said nothing.
“But now it’s all wrong. Was I a game to him?” Sam’s voice cracked.
“No, darling, no. You musn’t think that.” The professor nudged his arm around her and held her tight. “It wasn’t a game at all. From what Alex told us last night, you mean everything to him. Besides, he’s never been good at games.” He chuckled lightly. “Think about this . . . remember when you asked us not to tell Alex about your past?”
Sam nodded.
“We never did. But he’s known all along, and rather than go away, he pressed closer.” He paused and let his words sink in. “He did it all wrong, Sam. We both know that, but it wasn’t a game. As you just said, the boy was scared. Can you understand fear like that?”
“What do I do?”
“That’s between you and Alex . . . but I agree with your instincts. Don’t run away. Walk away, if that’s what you decide, after all is said and done, but wait for that moment. You’ll feel it when it comes and then, perhaps, you can leave with no regrets.” He sighed and shifted his weight. “My dear, my knees are killing me. Help me stand?”
Sam smiled and pulled him up, and he tugged her into a deep hug.
“You’re known and loved, my dear girl. You always were.”
Sam nodded and held on tight. His words sifted deep within her. She was known and loved and had been all along . . . by Alex too. He had seen her heart from the beginning, and rather than walk away—Alex sought her, pursued her, and fell in love with her. Her heart softened.
Then she recalled how he went about it . . .
She felt her jaw grow tight and noticed the professor watching her. He chuckled.
“I’m going to find your mother. She’s a nervous wreck. But I think you have some talking to do here.” He nodded toward Alex’s door and walked down the hall.
Sam looked through the doorway. Alex held his fists pushed into his eyes and his chest rose in an exaggerated fashion, as if he too was finding it difficult to draw air. Sam remembered his words—I let people down, then run like a coward before it hits the fan—and Ashley’s indictment from the day before—You rejected him so he couldn’t hurt you. You had to be the last one standing. All alone.
So much mess, so much pain—the professor was right. There was talking to do.
Sam stepped into the room. “How many ribs are broken?”
“I thought you’d left. I thought you hated me . . . What?”
“What’s broken? What hurts?”
“Three ribs, they took my spleen . . . I don’t know. Why?”
“I want you to hurt really badly right now . . . Because you’ve hurt me. You need to share in that.”
“I can’t hurt any worse.” Alex studied her. “But I won’t run, Sam. No matter what, I’ll take it. I’ll stick.”
“Don’t do that.”
“What?”
