“I accept your apology,” he says, finally. “Now, I need you to promise you won’t do it again.”
My head is shaking before he reaches the end of the sentence. “I can’t.”
He frowns, a newfound wariness in his eyes. “I need to be able to trust you.”
“Trust me to do nothing if someone I care about is putting themselves in danger?” The shaking has spread to my limbs and my hands lift in a defensive gesture. “I can’t make that promise.”
His face falls. “If that’s true then we can’t…” He trails off. We both stand frozen, staring at each other, for endless seconds.
A multitude of battles rage inside me. I want to explain, but I want to shut him out. Get closer to him and never see him again. I want to get the hell out of here and crawl back into the empty shell of a life I had before I met him, but I want to take him with me when I go.
With a sound of exasperation, he walks past me towards the door. He’s going to throw me out, but I can’t let him. I still need him.
“I had a sister.”
The faint sound of his bare feet against the wood stops dead.
“Her name was Claire. She died. Nearly eight years ago now.”
Retracing his steps, Sam returns to his place in front of me, but closer. When I meet his gaze, the wariness is gone, leaving compassion behind. “What happened to her?”
“She fell down the stairs in our house and hit her head.” The words leave my mouth in a casual manner, as if I’m describing a movie I once saw, but found dull. “She died a few hours later.” I try to swallow but my throat hurts. “She was thirteen.”
Sam takes a step forward. Reaching out, he takes one of my hands in his. “I’m so sorry.”
Of course he’s sorry. Everyone is sorry. Only I know how much sorry one person can contain. It’s still not enough.
“The thought of you putting yourself at risk, every day, because of something I could fix with a single phone call…” I clear my throat, looking away from him. “I couldn’t stand by and do nothing. Please, don’t ask it of me.”
He appears to consider my words, before coming to a decision. “I’m going to rephrase my request,” he says, softly. “Promise you’ll talk to me before making any arrangements on my behalf. So I have a chance to do something about it myself.”
My eyes close for a moment as I release a pent-up breath. “That I can do.”
“And send me the stupid bill, Tris.”
I fight the subtlest of smiles. The tradesman didn’t give a shit who paid the bill, but he cared about the sizable tip I promised him… in cash.
“The bill is paid but of course you are welcome to pay me back,” I agree, with a caveat, “as soon as you have your new room hires set up.”
Sam stiffens. “Why wait?”
“Because,” I grumble, “if you can’t afford to buy groceries you might stop cooking me dinner. I assure you, it’s pure selfishness on my part.”
Sam’s eyebrows lift, and then he bursts out laughing. “You’re out of luck tonight. I made enough for one and I ate before class.”
I snort in amused indignation. “You weren’t angry with me, huh?”
“I did say a little angry,” he points out, taking hold of my hand again. “Besides, after the way you left me hanging this week, I didn’t think you’d show up for class tonight.”
“You were right on that count.”
“Which means you owe me a class.” He walks towards the stairs, tugging me after him. “I’m going to make you take it in private, just the two of us.”
A small grin tugs at the corners of my mouth. “So you can check me out again?” I ask, not waiting for a response before I add, “And where are you taking me?”
“Possibly,” he responds, “and upstairs for a cup of tea.”
“Oh.” Tightening my grip on his fingers, I follow where he leads. “Tea would be good.”
