I stare up at him, waitingfor his request.
"If you ever feel, youknow, overwhelmed, like you can't handle it—us—I want you to promise you'll talkto me.That you won't just… run away."
I swallow anxiously.Wenever did talk about the night I left him here in Miami.I nevertold him the real reason I ended it.I guess its' my turn toconfess.
I take a deep breath."Ihave to tell you something."
Worry lines instantly markhis perfect face and I talk fast, desperate to vanquishthem.
"The night we brokeup—"
"You mean the nightyoubroke up withmeand then got on aplane in the middle of the night," he corrects me.I guess Ideserve that.I look away.
"I was just trying toprotect you," I say weakly.
"You—wait,what?"he asks,puzzled.
I know I have to explainmyself."Look, Sam, we'd been together for a day and you'd alreadygotten into two fights because of me, got accused of assault andbattery, and then got taken away in handcuffs for an entirelydifferent reason, also because of me.You're a straight A studentand star athlete heading off to freakingColumbia, and then twenty four hourswith me and your entire future's at risk.I couldn't—"
Sam sits up and pushesaway from me.He scoots over, like he needs to put distance betweenus, and it twists my gut.
"So you're saying you werefine with us, you just thought you'd push me away tokeep me out of trouble?"His words are an accusation, and I suppose I deserve that,too.
"Like I said, I was tryingto protect you," I repeat shakily.
He stands from the bed.More distance.I hate every inch between us.I pull the sheet up tocover my body; Sam stands there, though, completely unabashed byhis nakedness.
"You're not my fuckingmother.I don't need you to decide what's best for me like I'm somelittle kid."He shoves his hands through his hair."Do you have anyidea how hard these past two months have been for me?"
I do, actually.I feltevery ounce of that pain.But I don't say anything, because havinghis anger trained on me is debilitating.Even if it's welldeserved.
"You lied to me.You usedmy promise not to pressure you against me."His voice is low andfull of disappointment and he can't even meet my eyes as he turns,pulls his underwear back on, and walks out the glass door to thebalcony.
I don't know what to do.Iwant to follow him, to apologize, but he doesn't seem to wantanything to do with me right now.
Vaguely I'm aware that itisn't fair.That I forgave him almost immediately for the lie thatcaused my panic attack this morning—the onehetold to protectme.But at the sametime, I'd rather endure that again than the last two months oftorment.I slip my tank top over my head, pull on my cutoffs, andjust sit on the bed waiting.
Five minutes feel like alifetime, and they're all I can grant him before I make my wayafter him.He leans on the rail, staring out at the waves crashinglanguidly on the sand in perfect rhythm twenty stories below us.Itwould be peaceful if I weren’t feeling such turmoil in myheart.
"I'm sorry," I tell him."Ireally am.But… I love you, Sam.I loved you then, and I love younow, and I just thought… I thought that you'd be better off withoutme."My voice is quiet, but earnest.
"Better off without you," he muttersbitterly.Finally, he turns to face me."What do you think now,Rory?Was I better off?"
I loathe his sarcastictone.It cuts me with every word."I think… I think it's hard forme to come to terms with getting you into fights, into trouble.Ithink that two days after we got back together you took anothergiant risk framing Robin."
Sam glares at me."ExceptI told you that's been in the works for weeks.We weren't evenspeaking when I went to meet with my father," hereplies.
It would have surprised mea month ago, but not anymore."I realized that I was wrong, Sam.That whether we were together or not you were still looking out forme.It's why…" My frustration grows, snowballing with each breath Itake.Does he think this was all easy forme?!
"Do you think you're theonly one who suffered?It killed me—telling you I wanted to befriends!I missed you so damn much.But he was going to come afterme again!He may not have really sent that message, but he wasn'tgoing to just let it go.He was going to hurt me, and if you weremy boyfriend he was going to hurt you too.You could've gottenkilled!You think I could live with myself knowing—"
I'm only aware I'm sobbingwhen his arms wrap around me and pull me into his strong chest,cutting off my rant.He doesn't say anything, just holds me andrubs his palm soothingly up and down my back, letting me cry outthe memory of that terror.Of the fear of knowing Sam could becomecollateral damage of my choices.
I'm afraid to pull back andlook at him, so scared he's only holding me because of my pitifultears, that he won't forgive me."I'm sorry I lied.I'm so sorrySam.But I just thought that if I gave you up as something more,then I could keep from really losing you.Because if he… Oh, God,Sam, please don't hate me," I plead with him.I don't know whatelse to do.I just got him back, and the lie that broke us up inthe first place might destroy us before we ever even have achance.
He pulls back then, butdoesn't let me go, and it compels me to finally meet his gaze.Buthis words are the last ones I'm expecting.
"Cam's death wasn't yourfault."
