“I have a lot of questions, and I’m just not sure when to ask them.”
“Well, we have two hours in the car, so what better time than now?” He has both hands on the steering wheel as he navigates onto the interstate.
“The two-hours-in-the-car part is what has me nervous.”
“That bad, huh?” He mocks a worried look. “What subject do your questions involve?”
“Seattle. Claire. Us.” I look out the window, avoiding his gaze. I’m clutching my coffee with both hands as if it will somehow give me the strength to have this conversation. “Things don’t add up for me. Sam, I want to trust you fully, but I don’t know how to move forward without answers.” I look back at him, gauging his reaction.
He grimaces. I can see the internal struggle flicker across his face as he chooses his next words carefully. “I haven’t regretted words more than when I told you I only saw you as a friend. When I saw the hurt flash across your face, I wanted to take those words back immediately. That look still haunts me. Fuck, I almost told you the truth right then and there. But I knew I couldn’t.”
“What truth? I’m gonna need you to use more words.” He flinches at my harsh tone. “I’ve spent the last several years trying to understand how you could go from spending almost every waking minute with me to telling me you didn’t care for me. That I was only your brother’s kid sister.”
“Kat, I was dating Claire.” He runs a hand through his hair and then takes a sip of his tea. “Fuck, I was talking about getting engaged to her, and you, youareEthan’s little sister.”
I suck air in through my teeth and look down at my coffee. I refuse to go down memory lane with him if he isn’t going to give me anything to work with here.
Sam shakes his head. “I told Ethan I was falling for you when we were in high school.”
Ok. This is something; I sit straighter.
“I asked him if I could ask you out, and he lost his shit. He made me promise not to pursue you. When he found out you were going to school in Seattle, he told me he would cut off my balls if I ever touched you.” His words are fast, like they’ve been bursting to get out, and the dam has finally broken.
I’m surprised by his answer. Not because of what he said. I’d suspected his feelings were mutual. That’s honestly why this has been so hard. Why I’ve kept my distance. I’ve felt crazy thinking I misread the signs.
I’m also not surprised by Ethan’s role in this. He was always protective of me.
No, I’m surprised Sam’s being this transparent. Finally.
Deciding to push him since he’s being open, I ask, “Why didn’t you marry Claire?”
“Because she wasn’t what I wanted.” His gaze shifts to me briefly, and I catch the vulnerability in his eyes. “Claire was great. I thought she was everything I wanted.”
Please tell me how great Claire is…“But?”
“But,” he drags out the word, “after we got engaged, I couldn’t get what you said to me at the jewelry store out of my head. I kept replaying your words in my mind over and over.”
He takes another sip of his tea, and I think he’s doing it to compose his thoughts.
“I didn’t realize how often I talked about you to Claire—how often I kept bringing you up in conversations.” Sam looks at me briefly before returning his eyes to the road. “She called me out for it. I hadn’t really thought things through when I proposed. I hadn’t really thought through why I did it or what the rush was.
“She went on a girls' trip for a week, and it allowed me the time and space to really think about what she said. To think about myfeelings and to think about you.” He looks at me again and smiles softly.
“I realized then that I couldn’t marry her while I still thought about you, still wanted you.” He looks over his shoulder and moves into the left lane, passing a slower car.
I don’t dare say anything.
“I loved Claire,” Sam continues once he’s maneuvered the SUV back into the right lane. “I just realized I was more in love with the idea of her than I was withher.” He places his left hand at the top middle of the steering wheel and leans into his elbow on the center console.
“I felt like an asshole for dragging her through all of that. When she got back from her trip, we sat down and had an open conversation about everything. I know she was hurt. She moved out that week, and we haven’t talked since.” He looks over at me, his eyes are bright and his posture is relaxed. He said the words so smoothly, almost as if he had practiced them.
I remain silent as I think about what he said. “You moved to Chicago for her.”
“Initially, yes. But I stayed because of my career.” He keeps his eyes on the road.
“That makes sense, I guess.” I take a long sip of my coffee. “Ethan told you not to date me?”
“Yeah. The night we went to the homecoming dance.” He places his right hand on the steering wheel again, glances over his shoulder, and signals as he changes lanes one more time. He sneaks a peak at me under his impossibly long eyelashes.
