"I'm still here, youknow," he reminds us, and I pull away, pressing my fingers to mytingling lips, blushing scarlet.
"You know, I was almoststarting to like you," Sam retorts.
****
Weagree to change our flights.Mymother to tonight, Sam and I for Sunday.Chip has no flight tochange, but he decides he will drive back to LintonSaturday.
Chip offers to drive mymother to the airport tonight and we all return to our hotel rooms,my mother to pack, Sam and me to relax, and Chip—well, whoknows.
I'm still feelingexhilarated as we enter Sam's suite, but he's putting off a strangenervous energy that dulls my excitement.I change from my skirt andblouse ensemble into a tank top and cutoffs, but Sam sits on thesofa like a statue, still in his navy blue suit, eerily silent andpensive.
I wait for him to snap outof his unfathomable mood, but the more the minutes pass, the morehe only seems to sink further into it.When I finish washing myface in the bathroom I check flights on my phone.
"There's a flight Sundayat six," I call to him from the bedroom.
No response.
I make my way to theliving room and find he hasn't moved, except to hang his head, hisfingers massaging his temples.My stomach starts rolling, tellingme something is very wrong.
"Sam?"
His head jerks up.I sitbeside him and he watches me warily."You okay?"heasks.
AmIokay?I roll my eyes."I'd begreat if you were.What's up with you?"
Sam licks his lips like hedoes when he has something important to say and it puts me evenmore on edge.
"I need to tell yousomething.Before we change our flights," he says intently.Heseems ashamed, guilty of something, and I can't imagine what, butit terrifies me.
"Sam, whatever it is, itwill be okay.Just tell me."I want to soothe him, I want my wordsto be true.
Sam's fingers brush softlyover my cheek, following the frame of my face, and he tucks my hairbehind my ear.He looks at me as if he's trying to memorize myfeatures, as if whatever he's about to tell me is going to changeeverything.It makes my pulse race.
"I don't know if it willbe," he admits.A few hours ago I would have agreed with him.Ithought nothing could ever be okay.But now, we're so close thatwhatever this obstacle is, I need to believe it won't destroy whatwe only barely almost have.
"Sam?"
"I never meant to hurtyou."His voice cracks."You were never supposed toknow."
I don't understand.Did hehook up with someone else?My stomach drops, my heart beatingerratically.Was it when we were broken up, or together?God, Idon't even think I want to know.Why would he tell menow?
"The plan was for me toborrow your phone, find the message, and show it to your mother.Then she would—well, do what she did, just with the Facebookmessage rather than your father's statement, but—"
"What are you talkingabout, Sam?"Now I'm even more confused.This obviously isn't aboutanother girl, but… "What plan?How could you have known about the—"I cut myself off.Sam looks at me meaningfully, his eyes confessingeven more than his words.
"I couldn't leave it up tochance."
"You sent it."It's not aquestion.Sam wasn't out walking the beach last night, he wassending me that message from Robin."But,how?"
Same smiles sadly,regretfully."Come on, baby.You know my uncle's hotel connectionsgo beyond discounted rates.The hotel the Forbeses were staying atis under the same ownership."Sam shrugs."It was as simple as themanager letting me know when his room was empty, disabling thecameras for an hour of 'routine maintenance', and counting on theassumption that a moron like him would keep his account logged intoeither a tablet or a computer, which he did."
I stare at him,processing.Sam sent the Facebook message.Sam caused my panicattack.
I'm sorry, baby.I'm sosorry.
Now his apologies makesense.
"I never wanted you to seeit.But then your mother texted us about the postponement, and youtook your phone out onto the balcony, and you checkedFacebook.Whydidyou check Facebook?"
