None of what she’d said was remotely reasonable or anywhere close to fair, and Amy knew it. Baiting Sam like this, especially now, was beneath her. What he’d wanted was some basic assurance that she cared about him, and she hadn’t been able to give it. She was struck by how stupid this was, given that shehadcared about him. Given that she did.
Amy stepped towards him, not sure what she intended to do but knowing she had to come up with something.
‘Don’t, Amy,’ Sam said, backing away. ‘It’s clear you think I’m some shallow, emotionless wanker who lives for adulation from anyone who’ll offer it. I had hoped … Ihadhoped that over the past few months you’d come to realise I’m an actual person– not some privileged, shallow cipher with no feelings.’
Amy gaped at him, wishing she could rewind the conversation to the point where he said he’d been in love with her. It felt very far away now. Untouchable.
‘Do you know what really kills me?’ Sam said. ‘It’s that you’ve spent all the time we’ve known one another sniping at me for being rich– for being posh and not belonging in the real world. But who do you choose to live with, to almostmarry? Some guy who, granted, doesn’t have a title, but who I can assure you has a lot more cash in the bank than I do. A man with a family rather like mine, who even went to my school– and who, from what I can see, embodies the sort of snobbery, selfishness and superiority you always said you hated.’
All of this was factual. Incontrovertible. It was like a truth bomb had detonated, exploding every excuse she’d ever invented for disliking Sam– consuming the whole lot in a mushroom cloud, vaporising more than a decade’s worth of pretence and obfuscations.
‘You’re a hypocrite, Amy,’ Sam said, although he didn’t need to. ‘It wasn’t my background you didn’t like, it was just me. I finally understand that.’
She opened her mouth to protest, but once again words failed her.
‘Once this infernal event is over with,’ he murmured as he began to walk away, ‘I promise you’ll be rid of me for good.’
Chapter 25
Alone in the garden, Amy sank onto the lawn and put her head between her knees. Not sure whether she wanted to cry or scream, she found herself unable to do either. It was a while before she could think straight, or even move.
She’d spent years resenting Sam for ignoring her after Hari’s accident– years nursing heartbreak at his supposed abandonment of her. She’d believed he lost interest in her the moment their stolen kisses and witty repartee seemed set to be replaced by weeping and chaste hand-holding at their mutual friend’s funeral. She was stunned that, in fact, Sam had been tormented by his own grief, plus a sense of guilt that even now he had no idea was utterly misplaced.
At last she realised that he’d kept his distance from her not because he didn’t care, but because hedid– because it hurt him to see her in shreds over someone else. No doubt he’d thought trying to rekindle things with Amy would be a further insult to Hari’s memory … Maybe he’d even felt trying to start something romantic with her while she was grief-stricken would amount to taking advantage.
Suddenly, she could see teenage Sam’s motivations clearly– and not only did she understand them, she respected them. His diffidence had come from a good place: from wanting to honour a friendship he’d lost, and a determination to avoid muddying the waters for Amy, whose affections he was sure had all been for Hari.
That he’d been mistaken was as much her fault as his. Sam was right when he said he’d told her he had feelings for her but she hadn’t said anything back. She’d been too afraid to verbalise the enormous, unruly emotions he provoked in her. She’d assumed that simply kissing him back would be enough.
Her perception of him as confident, privileged and popular had blinkered her to the reality that, in love, he could be just as vulnerable as anyone else. Worse than that, she’d used her inverted snobbery as cover for dismissing any notion that there might be more to him than met the eye. His background, which he hadn’t chosen, had become Amy’s pretext for convincing herself he was cold, selfish and shallow.
She lifted her head at the sound of a phone ringing. Hers. When she fished it out of her bag, she saw Kit was calling her.
‘Hey,’ she said thickly, ‘what’s up?’
She expected him to askherwhat was up immediately, based solely on the weepiness he’d easily detect in her voice. But he didn’t.
‘I have news!’ Kit gushed. ‘BIG news!’
Amy tried to muster the enthusiasm that was clearly required for hearing it. ‘Really? Come on then, spill.’
‘Julius has asked me to move in with him– and I’ve said yes!’
‘Wow,’ Amy said, staggered. ‘Like … wow. That’s major. Are you sure you’re ready?’
‘I was born ready,’ Kit said. ‘He’s theone, Amy– I’ve never felt like this about anyone before. I never believed I was capable! It’s like he’s rearranged me inside: feng shui’d my organs so that everything makes more sense. The connection we have, it’s– it’s like we were designed to fit together even though we’re nothing alike. I’d trust him with my life. We want to take care of each other … and at the same time, I want to hump him every single chance I get.’
‘But … it’s quite early days for you, isn’t it?’ she asked gently. ‘Aren’t you a bit concerned you’re rushing into this? I’m only asking because it feels risky to jump in with both feet after just a few months.’
‘Oh, Amy, I might have known you’d be all sensible,’ Kit said fondly. ‘But please don’t piss on my chips. I promise you, I’ve thought about this properly. Relationships always involve risk– you have to put yourself on the line to make them real. Julius put himself on the line by asking me to be with him and now it’s my turn. It’s what I want. When someone’s right for you, you know it in your bones– and this is it for me, forever.’
Amy nodded, moved by his readiness to lay himself open for the person he loved.
‘So you’ll be moving to his place, then?’ Amy asked. ‘Whereabouts?’ She assumed some leafy, affluent part of north London– probably not too far from where Kit lived now.
‘Brighton!’ Kit said. ‘Can youeven?!’
‘BRIGHTON?’ Amy near shouted. ‘You’re going to live in Brighton? You’re leaving London?’
