Chapter 13
Let’s Meet and Talk
Arielle Nygard
I’m inputting numbers into a spreadsheet for the hospital accountant, and my focus is fixed on my computer screen. After the stress of the past couple of days, my head has been a mess. Part of me has longed to reach out to Sam, but I know I need to be sure that I’m not rushing back to him simply to console myself. I don’t know my own heart anymore. Why can’t things just be easy, like with Steve?
I haven’t had any further news from the hospital board about my job, and I desperately hope they don’t decide to cut me loose. After all that’s gone on, pouring myself into my work is the one thing that’s keeping me sane. My phone rings and I reach for it absent-mindedly, answering it without thinking. My stomach lurches when I recognize the voice on the other end of the line.
“Hi, Arielle,” Sam says and just hearing those two words brings back all the emotions I’ve been suppressing these past days.
“Hey,” I respond, not trusting my voice to say more. I’d been so proud of how well I’d been doing, but I suddenly feel like a wreck.What the hell is wrong with me?
“I was an ass,” he says without preamble, and the words leave me even more unnerved. “I wasn’t thinking straight... after Munchkin.” Now my heart breaks a little; I loved that cat too. “I miss you,” he adds. There’s a definite catch in his voice.
God, I miss him too. But I can’t tell him that. I’m trying to be strong, and I’m still so determined to make the right choices...grown-up choices. I’m not a kid anymore, I have to be responsible.
My silence stretches forever and he finally breaks it. “I need to see you,” he says, and I just can’t say no.
“When?” I ask, wondering if I should be thinking about arranging a sitter again. Maybe things can be normal. Maybe we can be a regular couple who has regular dates and eventually has a regular relationship. And maybe a regular wedding.
What? Get real, Arielle!
I try to control myself, but the rich sound of his voice is having an effect on me.
“Is now okay? I’m outside,” he says, and I do a double-take. “I’m sorry...I know I should have checked first, but I just... I just needed to see you.”
The vulnerability in his voice shatters any hopes I’d had of handling this firmly, ‘like an adult’. I need to see him too. “I’m on my way,” I answer, and then I shove back my chair and bolt out of the office, ignoring the curious stares of my co-workers. I practically fly down the flight of stairs to the ground level, stopping to catch my breath in the reception area. I stroke a hand over my wild hair, wondering if my make-up is streaked or if I should have touched up my lipstick.
Dammit, who cares?
I push open the front door and stop dead in the doorway. He’s parked right outside the front entrance and is leaning back against the black Mustang I remember from those months ago. I raise my fingertips to my lips, remembering that searing kiss. His long, lean legs are encased in black denim, crossed at the ankle, above heavy boots. The fabric of his dark t-shirt pulls snugly across his chest and shoulders and I have to tear my eyes away as I’m assailed by memories of that chest stripped naked beneath my exploring fingers. And then I raise my eyes to his face. That face...God, he’s so beautiful, even with the shadows beneath his eyes, and the heavy coating of stubble on his jawline.
As our gazes lock, he stands abruptly, and then he’s running up the stairs toward me, and I’m running down to meet him. We crash together halfway, my arms winding around his neck, his around my waist, crushing me against his chest. His lips are almost bruising when they meet mine, but I don’t care. All I can think about is losing myself in him. Forgetting all the confusion and soul-searching of these past days and sinking into the beautiful strength of him.
Our tongues mesh and my fingers are threading into his thick hair. I realize my cheeks are damp as tears spill over, and now I’m crying without shame. When he pulls away eventually, he cups my face in his palms, thumbs brushing at the tears as he stares into my eyes.
“I’m so sorry,” he whispers, and I say something unintelligible in response. I know he’s sorry. I’m sorry too...I just don’t know what to make of what’s going on between us. His lips are gentle on my forehead, and then my eyelids, and then brushing my lips again. I’m still not speaking...it’s all I can do to stop sniffing stupidly because now my damn nose is running, but thankfully it doesn’t seem to bother him.
“I was such an idiot, Arielle. I put too much pressure on you,” he murmurs. I give a little nod because that’s exactly what I’d been battling with. Along with all the self-doubt and confusion.
“It’s okay,” I eventually get out. “You were...You... Munchkin...”Dammit, what am I trying to say?
“I wasn’t thinking straight,” he says, somehow understanding. “I saw him gone, and acted like a crazy man. But I shouldn’t have unloaded like that on you. I wasn’t thinking clearly, and you ended up carrying all of that shit.”
“No, you’re being too hard on yourself. You’d just had a loss...” I know that I’m trying to make excuses for him, but they’re valid.
Sam gives a slight nod. “I was heartbroken...still am... but that’s no excuse, Arielle. And it’s not how I want you to think I would treat you. You deserve...so much more.” He raises a hand and rubs his eyes. I notice they’re red-rimmed, bloodshot. He’s taking this as hard as I am and suddenly it just seems so ridiculous that I’m doubting how good we could be together.
He heaves a shuddering sigh and goes on, “I let go of something when he died. Something I didn’t know I was holding onto.” I’m gazing up at him and he smiles gently. “I’ve been living in the past...hanging onto those sweet years shared by a lost boy, an old man, and a cat.” His words break my heart, as I realize what he’s truly saying to me. He’s releasing the thing that held him together all this time, and it’s hard. “I guess I just felt it was all happening in spite of my fear...and I felt like I was losing control. Maybe...maybe I thought if I chose the direction, if I could just make that decision myself...then I would still have some say over my own Fate...” he trails off.
“Oh, Sam,” I whisper, pressing my hand over his and turning my lips into his palm. “Sam, sometimes we can’t force our lives down a path. Sometimes the path simply opens up to us and we need to follow it.” As I say the words, I feel like a fraud. I’m as guilty as he is of trying to force my life in a direction.
“I’m figuring that out,” he smiles ruefully. “But I’m afraid. I’ve created my own reality for so long, with all my illusions. I’m scared of finding out what Fate might really hold for me.” I haven’t released his hand, and he strokes the pad of his thumb over my bottom lip. “I don’t want to be alone anymore, Arielle,” he breathes, and I swallow hard because I know what ‘alone’ feels like.
“Let’s just take things a day at a time, okay?” I finally say, and he nods. “But you’re not alone, Sam. I promise.”
The squeaking of the door opening behind us makes me move away from him slightly, but he smiles. “You probably need to go back in,” he says, ignoring the couple who pass on the stairs, carefully averting their eyes.
“Yeah,” I admit, “I think I’m going to have some explaining to do.” I give a watery grin and brush the back of my forearm across my eyes. “I must look like such a mess!”
Sam leans forward and presses his lips against my forehead. “A hot mess,” he laughs, and I snort-laugh, then feel foolish.
“Can I call you later?”
I nod. “Yeah…later.” I turn to leave, feeling his eyes on my back as I make my way up the stairs.
I think we can make this work…I really do.
