She didn’t count the crappy boyfriend who’d written off her experience with a few careless words.
“Your mother knew this whole time?” His hands fell away from where he’d been smoothing her hair off her cheek. Shock colored his words.
“She may not remember. She was on a lot of medication.” But telling her mother had only made things much, much worse.
“And she never reported it to the police, either?”
His eyes went wide. And it took a lot to surprise a cop.
“She was struggling with bipolar disorder and new medications.” She sat so close to Sam now, his big body curving protectively around hers. She could so easily tip her head to the side and be cradled against his shoulder. The temptation to do just that was strong, but she forced herself to get through the story. “She screamed at me that I was a slut, that I’d led you on and to get the hell out of her house.”
“You’d led me on?” He shook his head. “I don’t understand.”
“Mom was convinced that it was you who molested me in the woods because I’d encouraged you after the skinny-dipping incident. Remember I mentioned how upset she was about that?” Her stomach knotted. She had loved her mother. Needed her desperately. But when it counted most, her mom had blasted her morals and told Amy she needed to move out by nightfall.
“Holy shit.” Beyond that, he was speechless.
And who could blame him?
“She had a nervous breakdown later that summer.” Amy hadn’t heard about it at the time, but apparently her mom had fought with Mack’s then girlfriend, Nina, too. Nina had moved away for almost as many years as Amy had.
Thank goodness Nina had returned to Heartache, or Mack might never have reunited with her.
“I didn’t know the disorder could make someone so...” He grappled for words.
“My father was giving her experimental medication, too.” That was another piece of the puzzle Amy hadn’t discovered until recently, thanks to Heather’s letters. “At the time, there weren’t many good options for her on the market, so he imported some drugs that hadn’t been approved by the FDA. But Mom secretly went off everything for a while, and no one knew how bad things had gotten until that breakdown.”
Amy still wasn’t sure if she could make peace with her mother. Would her mom remember the details of that conversation? How could Amy forgive her for not helping her through that time? For convincing her that she had somehow deserved the attack? For kicking her out? It didn’t matter that Diana’s accusations had made zero sense—Sam hadn’t been the one to hurt her.
She’d been vulnerable to her mother’s opinions and each one of them had dug deep, taking root. Amy had run from Heartache, but she hadn’t had much luck outrunning her mother’s damning words.
“Right.” He went to work picking up their dishes, stacking them and setting them aside. The tension in his shoulders was obvious, along with the rigid set to his jaw.
She covered his hand with hers when he reached for the wine bottle. “I’m sorry that she thought the worst of you.”
Sam’s forehead wrinkled in confusion before he shook his head. “You think I care about that? Hell. Amy, I’m upset because you were molested fifty yards away from me and I never knew about it. I’m upset I didn’t just tell you I was going to Gabby’s that night to keep an eye on her the way Zach asked me to.” He set the bottle on the coffee table and then eased to the floor again to sit across from her. “I’m upset that someone hurt you and I could have stopped it. I was so invested in watching out for Gabriella, this bastard got to you instead.”
The anguish in his eyes was obvious. A hurt he didn’t deserve, but one that soothed something raw inside her nevertheless. For years, she’d faced the fact that she’d handled The Incident alone. That even her mother hadn’t cared what had really happened to her.
But Sam cared. He’d always cared. She’d just been so busy worrying that he was having a relationship with Gabby—running off to California without a word to Amy—that she’d never understood it.
“I was hurt. Wounded inside.” She threaded her fingers through his. Kissed the back of his hand. “But I’m not hurt anymore. And as for healing? I’ve come a long way over the years, even more so tonight, thanks to you.”
She gave in to that urge she’d been fighting, the need to tip her head onto one of his broad shoulders and savor his strength and presence. She’d craved it ten years ago and never had the chance to let a loving touch take away the hurts of that night.
Now? They were in a very different place emotionally. But she still cravedhis touch.
“Amy.” He studied her with that steady gaze of his. Drew a deep breath. “I hate that I wasn’t there for you.”
“You’re here now.” She rubbed her cheek against the cotton of his shirt, absorbing the warmth and feel of him.
His muscles clenched beneath her jaw, his body tensing. From resistance? Or because he was holding himself back from something he wanted, too?
“I wouldn’t want to—” his jaw flexed as he seemed to search for the right words “—take advantage of a vulnerable moment.”
“You wouldn’t be.” She kissed his shoulder before straightening, needing to look him in the eye. “We could spend tonight putting the past behind us.” She didn’t know where the idea came from. But her attraction to Sam had been simmering ever since she’d come home. And tonight, when he’d been so tender with her and so ready to shoulder blame that didn’t belong to him, she wanted to act on that heat. That connection they’d always had.
Something flared in his eyes. A blaze of raw reaction he couldn’t hide.
