"Mmm," hemoans.
God, he tastes good, evenjust waking up.
I pull away laughing andhe grins up at me.I suspect that in this moment he may haveforgotten where we are, why we're here.My smile turns regretfulbecause I know he's about to remember.
"I let you sleep as long asI could.We gotta get going," I say breathily, inexorably affectedby his kiss, and a glance at the sheet bunched at his waist tellsme I'm not alone.
I see the moment herealizes what we have to do today.He jumps up, suddenly anxious,and it's so unlike him that it gives me pause.
He turns and looks meover, as if to check for signs that I'm okay.
"Sam?"
He sighs, almost soundingrelieved as he seems to assure himself that I am, in fact, holdingit together.His behavior makes me wonder if he had a nightmare,and the thought makes my chest ache.
He leans down to plant agentle kiss to my temple, and makes his way into the bathroomwithout a word.
At a quarter of eight Samand I both receive a text from my mother.
Court delayed until afterlunch.I'm at the Prosecutor's office.Everything is okay, justmeet me at the courthouse at 1PM
I swallow anxiously,looking to Sam as if he might have the answers, but he looks justas puzzled as I am and even more worried.
All I know is this can'tbe good.I'm supposed to be testifying in a little over an hour andnow I don't know what's happening.
Sam picks up his phone,looking nervous."My phone needs to charge, Ror, can I borrowyours?"
"I just wanna call Chipfirst, he's supposed to meet us at court."
Sam nods slowly, almostreluctantly.He's not himself, and his reaction to this newdevelopment is feeding my anxiety, so I step out on the balcony tomake my call, just wanting to give him some time to composehimself.
Chip doesn't answer so Itext him instead.I decide to check my Facebook account.I usuallyonly check it weekly—I was just telling Sam as much the otherday—and I checked it on the plane.But I need to distractmyself.
It's a mistake.
I have a new message, andthough I've received a few of them from future classmates, I neverexpected to see this name in my inbox.
Or maybe I did.Maybe itwas my worst fear, and the entire reason I was reluctant to make anaccount again in the first place.
I don't even know how heknew I had Facebook.
Robin hasn't changed hisProfile Picture in the year since we've been out of contact, andit's his same smiling face, the same photo that incited my argumentwith Sam the night he attacked me here during springbreak.
I stare at my inbox forwhat feels like an hour before I decide to open the message.Notopening it isn't going to make it disappear, and since it says hesent it last night around ten thirty, it's already been sittingthere for hours.
I hold my breath, lettingmy thumb linger over the top slot of my inbox before I close myeyes and click it.
Rory,
I can't stand knowingyou're right here, in a hotel a few miles away, but I can't seeyou.I can't stand watching you in court and not being able to talkto you.I can't stand hearing him talk about you being together.Iwon't stand for it.You are mine and I will never let yougo.
Oh, God.
I gasp in a wheezingbreath when I realize I haven't breathed since I clicked themessage, but it feels like it won't reach my lungs.My pulseaccelerates, and my breath races it.
Oh,God!
How could I have thought Iwas safe?What was I thinking?!
