‘That’s not fair.’
‘Finished?’ he asks.
Does he mean something more? I look at my half-eaten plate. As much as I’d like to eat, my stomach has shrunk, my mouth dry.
‘Yeah.’
He takes it, with his own, and heads to the kitchen.
I need to get this over and done with once and for all; Ollie has ruled my life for too long. ‘I came here and everything changed, Sam. I didn’t think it would go this way. I met you, and I knew Ollie was wrong for me. I knew my reasons for coming here were stupid, because you aren’t horrible, and you aren’t a stuck-up snob. You are kind, and happy, and welcoming. You made me remember how easy life once was. You make me happy. Truly happy.’
Sam stops what he’s doing, water running into the sink. His arms splay either side of him, head bowed. My lips quiver and I fight back tears, trying not to let them overwhelm me. I can’t lose Sam. Not now.
‘I realise now that I wasn’t a nice person,’ I say. ‘I’ve been bitter and I’ve been selfish and I’ve been in my head all theseyears, making excuses for my behaviour. I’ve been sad, and I’ve been wallowing in that sadness. I’ve allowed misery to consume me.’
‘It’s not your fault,’ Sam begins to say.
‘I’m talking about Ollie. I’m talking about how I’ve treated others. How I’ve expected the world to give me gold when I hadn’t worked towards it. When I wrote that list, I was writing it from a place of misinformation, I guess. Coming here has made me see sense. It’s made me realise that I don’t need Ollie to be happy. That I don’t even need you to be happy.’
He turns to me, and I stutter, as he wipes at his tears.
‘Sam, please don’t cry.’
‘It’s fine,’ he mutters.
‘You make me happy, but I’ve realised that to be happy I have to face a lot of the shit I haven’t allowed myself to face.’ My own tears falling now. ‘I’ve realised that Ollie is a toxic boy who made me feel small. I realised that I’ve been neglecting my friendships and that I let him have a hold on me.’
‘Do you still love him?’
‘No.’
Sam sighs. ‘It’s okay if you do.’
‘Honestly, Sam, no,’ I say, again enunciating the word. ‘I thought I did. For three years, I’ve held on to the memory of him, to a version of him that no longer exists, and maybe never existed. We’re different people now. We could never have whatever it was we once had. This trip has been cathartic for me for many reasons. One of them being that I realised I can finally walk away from him. But also that I can let go of the old version of myself. Become someone new. Put myself first, love myself. I didn’t have the courage to do that before.’
I get to my feet, joining Sam at the kitchen sink. He holds out his arms, and I press myself into him, bringing him tight to mybody. He’s crying, and I’m crying, and I squeeze him so tight I’m surprised he doesn’t break.
‘I had to learn to let go,’ I whisper. ‘And by letting go, I make room for the new, the good. What I deserve.’
Sam rubs a hand over my back.
‘Have I upset you?’ I ask.
‘No.’
‘Are you sure?’ I break away to look at him. ‘Because what I wrote is pretty shitty.’
‘Do you mean it?’ he asks. ‘Do you think I’m less because of what I do?’
I wipe his tears. ‘Absolutely not, Sam. Every day you inspire me. Every day you make me realise that you do what you want to do whenever you want to do it. You’re free, and you’ve made me learn how to be free.’
Sam bites his lip, his eyes red. ‘I’m not as inspiring as you might think.’
‘You’re perfect, Sam. Everything about you is perfect,’ I say. ‘I don’t need a high-flying man. I don’t need bells and whistles. Ineed you. You inspire me to be a better person.’
Sam closes his eyes, resting his forehead against mine. ‘Will…’
‘I’m sorry, Sam. So sorry.’
