“I wrote that to Mr. Knightley . . . You don’t get to use my words. They weren’t meant for you . . . Look what you’ve done, Alex. You’ve messed this all up.” She took one step forward. “I’m mad . . . so mad I can’t see straight. But you know that because you know exactly how I think, how I feel things—because I’ve armed you. I gave all that to Mr. Knightley, and now you’ve got it.”
She paused to organize her feelings. It felt crucial to say how she felt, not to hide, but to stand. “I’m angry, and worse, I’m hurt. I feel betrayed.”
“I know, and you’re right.” Alex looked out the window. “I should’ve written you back last year. Remember when you asked? Right after your time with Kyle?”
Sam cringed.
“I could’ve ended this. I was a coward. We both know that. But you needed Mr. Knightley. I couldn’t take him from you. I wanted you to need me.”
“You never gave me the choice.”
“If I could take it back, I would. You must know that . . . I know you said I can’t quote Mr. Darcy, but that is exactly how it was for me. ‘I cannot fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look, or the words, which laid the foundation. It is too long ago. I was in the middle before I knew I had begun.’ And that’s how it felt, Sam. I can’t recall a moment in which I didn’t love you. But I made a mistake. I thought I could walk that line and know you as both Knightley and me—we could remain separate. And then it was too late.
“It happened so fast. You were at the Muirs’ for dinner. And then you were in my life and they kept talking about you, keeping you in front of me. And your letters . . . I am so sorry. I never should have come to Chicago. I should’ve stayed away, but I wanted to be near you. I wanted you to feel the same—about me. But I was too scared. Too scared to tell you the truth. Too scared to lose you. And now . . .”
Alex reached toward her, and Sam involuntarily took a step forward. She caught herself and stopped.
Tears gathered in Alex’s eyes and ran down his cheeks. “Forgive me, Sam. Deep down, please know I’d rather die than hurt you. Please . . .”
“Stop, Alex. Stop crying.” Despite the pain, Sam realized she felt strong. She felt whole. She also remembered why she had come—to put Alex first. Had that changed?
“Please give me another chance.” The vulnerability in his voice and the softening in her heart brought her another step forward. “I’m in this for keeps. Whatever it takes to make this right, to make you stay, to make you safe. Just don’t leave. We belong together.”
“I don’t know whoweare,” Sam whispered.
“We’re Alex and Sam. And we’re a mess. That’s partly why we’re so perfect for each other.” Their eyes caught, and Alex smiled. “How else can two such dysfunctional people fall in love?”
Sam laughed through her tears. There was truth in his statement. “I never said I loved you.”
Alex quirked his eyebrow.
“Fine. I told Mr. Knightley, you jerk.” She let out an exasperated sigh.
“Come here.” Alex patted the bed next to him.
“Why?”
“I can’t reach you over there.”
“That’s awfully close.”
“I’m not the enemy.” Alex’s broader smile compelled her to take the last few steps. She sat on the edge of his bed and stared at her lap. She saw his hand reach as if to touch her fingers, then it withdrew.
“I want us to get to know each other. No more lies and no more letters.” He reached for her fingers. “All I want is to be with you—completely, passionately, and forever.” Alex moved one hand up to her face and brushed a tear resting under her eye, but he didn’t let her go. “We can’t start over, and I don’t want to. All of this is a part of us. Good, bad, and ugly, Sam, this is our story.”
“Don’t put it in a book.”
Alex laughed softly. “I promise. But I want to hear about everything from you, as me. I want to meet Kyle, and Father John, and Ashley.”
“You want it all, don’t you?” Sam’s voice wavered.
“Yes. I want all of you, and I’ll work every day to earn your trust and your forgiveness.”
They sat in silence and, after a few moments, she felt peace steal over her.
“I’d like to go running.”
“I wish I could join you. Ten miles and we could work this out.”
