Robin agreed not to fight the restraining order if he could get away with community service and probation, and I couldn't risk losing the restraining order. Without it I had no he'd never leave me alone. Ever.
But before the judge signed it, my father summoned me to the DA's office and distracted my mother with legal paperwork while he set me up in a conference room that Robin just happened to wander into. He begged me to drop the whole thing and take him back. He still loved me, he said, he'd do anything to win me back. He was "so sorry" I was upset, and he would never do anything to upset me again. He was careful not to admit to any specifics, though, about how it was that he'd upset me. He accused me of "ruining both our lives", insisted that we were "meant to be together" - that I was going to be his wife one day and I just needed to trust him. But I barely even heard him, I was too busy crying and hyperventilating against the wall in debilitating terror.
My cries and screams echoed throughout the office, pouring out of the room, and when my father tried to calm me down because I was "overreacting", I made it clear I wanted nothing more to do with him ever again. That was the last time I ever saw my father and the third time I wound up in the hospital that month, this time with an anxiety disorder diagnosis and a pocketful of prescriptions for anxiety, depression, and insomnia.
Even after all that, the Forbes and my father did everything they could to hide it all from UFL, but my mother took that into her own hands. I learned later that she sent them a copy of the police report, including the photos of my injuries, and spoke personally with the athletics director.
Robin lost his scholarship and his place on the team.
The town hated me even more.
When they started showing up at my door to shout obscenities at me, and spray painting my driveway with the same malicious words, my mother put the house on the market. I spent the rest of my time in Linton numbed by a myriad of prescription medication. Only when I realized the effect it was all having on my mother did I resolve to try and put on a brave face. I weaned myself off of the antidepressants. I never did rely too much on the sleep medication because they didn't help my nightmares, they only trapped me inside them. I came to rely less and less on the anti-anxiety meds until I only had to take them in the case of a panic attack, which have happened less and less since Sam came into my life.
As I finish explaining about Cam and the aftermath of it all, I realize how big a role Sam has somehow already managed to play in my recovery, in reattaching me to this world. In giving me a reason towantto be attached to it. I realize how just knowing that such an incredible man exists in this world has changed my entire view of it. He hasn't replaced Cam. No one could ever do that. But hehasrenewed my faith in people. The world in which I exist is that much less awful, and while I loved Cam more than anything, I'minlove with Sam, and somehow, in the short time I've known him, he has become the center of my universe. My anchor to it. I'm no longer just surviving, as he said, I'mliving.
And Sam is the reason for that. His faith in me, his patience, his loyalty and his affection,inspireme.
I cuddle closer to him and he tightens his hold on me even more and whispers how brave and strong I am, and I let him.
"I'm so sorry about earlier, Ror. I had no idea. I don't know what I was even accusing you of. I was just being jealous and paranoid.Andpossessive...." he murmurs introspectively. "You should know, I have no fucking clue what I'm doing." His smile is small and sheepish. "I've never been in a relationship. Never had a single jealous feeling over a girl. But withyou..." He shakes his head in self-condemnation. "I overreacted when I should have just trusted you. It helps knowing we're on the same page, but look, I shouldn't have pushed you."
I shrug, conceding my role in our argument. "It's my fault, Sam. I should've justtoldyou. I just... It's just... hard to talk about,"
Sam's fingers stroke my cheek, and I think he wants to kiss me, but he doesn't. Tonight has been too intense. Between Robin's attack, and telling Sam about Cam, a strange, wistful mood lingers.
"I'm glad you told me," Sam admits.
"Hey, tell me somethin' about you no one else knows." After all, I've confided in him like no other.
Sam considers me, his eyes simmering with such profound emotion that I'm sure my attempt to lighten the mood did not have the desired effect. He bites his lip, seeming to think it over. "How about I tell you somethingeveryoneelse knows... apart from you, apparently," he counters.
I blink at him in confusion.
"Rory..." His voice drops to a whisper, his gaze locked intently on mine.
"Yeah?" I breathe.
"I fuckingloveyou."
I gasp. My chest explodes with love, the unfathomable thrill of its reciprocation.Sam loves me!Even with all of his romantic declarations, I never let myself imagine hearing those words, and I stare at him, utterly dumbfounded.
Sam's fingers slowly find their way into my hair, and he tentatively pulls my face to his. I realize he's hesitating because of what I went through tonight with Robin, and I refuse to let that bastard ruin one more moment of my life. My kiss surprises Sam, but he recovers quickly, devouring me with his affection.
His kiss feels like home. Like in the connection of our lips, we recognize a piece of each of us in the other, and I'm lost to him. Hearing him confess his love for me was surreal, and it has utterly exhilarated me.
And terrified me.
Cruel doubt uncoils in my gut, piercing my delusion bubble of joy. I pull away abruptly.
He can't love me!
How can I let him do this to himself? Why would anyone want to be stuck with the crazy girl with the panic attacks? Only Sam and his twisted perspective of my issues - his unique ability to acknowledge only the best in me - would blind himself to the reality of what a relationship with me would mean. And blind me, too. apparently.God, how easily he makes me forget myself, all that is wrong, all that is broken.
"Ror?"
"You...youcan't," I decide. No, I've always known Sam deserves better than me, even if he can't see it himself right now.
His brow furrows, in that adorable way, and my heart wrenches. "Ican, baby girl," he counters, the corner of his mouth quirking up at what I'm sure he misreads as disbelief at his proclamation. I pull out of his arms and stand, needing some distance from the source of my confusion - and of my happiness - and try to steel myself against my own selfish desires.
