“No. I mean, I know I’ve relied on you a lot to get me through school and now everything going on with… Ethan.” His name comes out choked and I clear my throat to try to stop the tears from starting. “The funeral and everything else.” I wave my hand in the air as if gesturing to everything and nothing. “But I’ll be ok.”
He shakes his head. “I haven’t been coddling you. Did you ever think that maybe I needed you sitting next to me, holding my hand, just as much as you needed me? Did you think that maybe I needed it more than you did? Because I’ve taken comfort from you, too.
“Every time I’ve reached for your hand. Every time I’ve hugged you. Every touch, every look, every phone call, every text has helpedme. Has mademefeel some semblance of normalcy in this fucked up situation.” He looks at the ground and shoves his hands into the pockets of his jeans.
When he speaks again, his voice is so quiet I almost struggle to hear him. “I wasn’t coddling you. I needed, need you.”
Shit. I’m an asshole.
He turns to walk away. If I let him walk away, I’m afraid this will be it. I’ll lose him for good this time. I can’t let that happen, so I grab his wrist before he fully turns from me. “Don’t go.”He allows me to gently pull him towards me. “I’m sorry. I… what I said was selfish. I’m sorry. Please don’t go, Sam.”
Sam’s shoulders are slumped forward, and he won’t look at me—he just stares at the ground. But he doesn’t say anything.
Finally, his eyes meet mine, but his expression is blank, his eyes are like two black holes.
I try again, softer. “Please don’t go, Sam.” Still holding his wrist, I reach my other hand up to cup his cheek and run my thumb gently across his cheekbone. I relax a little when he closes his eyes and leans into my palm.
Shifting my gaze to his chest, I’m not sure how long I watch it rise and fall with each breath he takes, the action somehow calming my ragged nerves.
I’ve been incredibly selfish with him. I know Ethan meant a lot to Sam. I just can’t seem to get out of my own head and out of my own grief to see that Sam is struggling, too.
He hasn’t cried, or at least, I haven’t seen him cry, and he doesn’t really talk about Ethan. I guess it’s made me feel like maybe this isn’t as hard for Sam. But that isn’t fair. He shouldn’t have to grieve the way I do for me to know he’s hurting too.
Finally, he reaches up and brushes some loose hair behind my ear. I drop my hand from his cheek and raise my gaze to his. I remain completely still as Sam runs his thumb along the side of my face and across my jaw.
My breath hitches when his thumb glides along my lips. I want him to kiss me. I crave it. But he drops his hand and takes a small step back.
Once he finally meets my gaze, I see pain in his eyes, but his tone is soft when he finally speaks, “Ok. I’ll stay. Go to sleep, Kat. I’ll be here when you wake up.”
I grab him a blanket and pillow from the cupboard and make sure he’s settled in. Even though it’s still early, I’m exhausted. So,I say goodnight, point out which room is mine in case he needs anything, and head back to bed.
***
I’m not sure what time it is, but when I wake up, it's still dark outside. The clock glows 11:00 p.m.
Rolling over on my side, I stare at my bedroom door. Thinking about Sam sleeping on my couch. I can’t believe how much I hurt him tonight.
I tell myself I just want to make sure he’s still here when I get out of bed and quietly open my bedroom door.
This is stupid. Of course, he’s still here.
Hesitating only for a moment, I convince myself I just need to see him so that I can go back to sleep.
But as I walk into the living room, Sam is sitting on the bright orange couch, very much awake, with his head in his hands, elbows on his knees. He’s changed into running shorts, that show off his muscular thighs, and a loose T-shirt. He looks so sad, and the sight breaks my heart.
Hearing my approach, his eyes slowly meet mine. “Can’t sleep?” Sam’s voice is quiet as his eyes drop down the length of my body and back up. My hair is up in a messy bun, and I’m wearing tiny shorts and a tank top—my typical sleepwear. When his eyes land on mine again, they flicker, turning dark, but the look is quickly replaced with uncertainty as his lips turn down slightly.
“I was asleep, but I woke up. I’m not sure why I came out here.” I quickly look down the hallway towards my room before looking back at him. Despite my unconfident words, I straighten my shoulders and step towards him. “I’m so sorry for what I said earlier. I’m so sorry for hurting you.”
Sam stands up and walks towards me. “I’m sorry I was so harsh with you. I know you miss him, and I should have been moreunderstanding with you. I’m struggling with this, too.” He stops a couple of steps away from me, his arms crossed in front of him.
He looks down at the ground. “I think about him every day. About how it would be easier for everyone if it had been me instead of him.” I’m struck silent by Sam’s words. “You would be better off if he were here instead of me. I can’t fill the void he left. Not with myself, not with your parents, and not with you.” Tears stream down his face.
Easier if it had been him?
I slowly step towards Sam as he raises his hands and covers his face. I reach up and gently tug his hands down. His eyes are red-rimmed, and his hands shake slightly in mine. He still won’t look at me.
Life wouldnotbe easier for anyone if Sam wasn’t here. Do I miss Ethan? Yes. Do I wish he was here? Yes. But do I think anything would be different if Sam had died instead? No. I would be in a similar state of hell.
