Page 141 of Smoke and Glitter

His jaw flexes.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

The question comes quickly, but Sam catches whatever follows it before it leaves his mouth. He sits with it for a moment, then looks back at me.

"I want to know," he says. "But I'm not asking because you were supposed to tell me the right thing and prevent what I did."

The distinction loosens something inside me.

"You can ask."

He asks it again. The same five words. Not the same question.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

I rub my thumb over the seam of one glove. "Partly because I didn't want it to become a debt. I made the decision. I didn't want to tell you I'd given something up and have that sitting between us like you owed me."

Sam listens without interrupting.

"And partly because I thought you should understand without me saying it."

His eyebrows draw together slightly.

"I thought if you mattered enough for me to make that choice, then you should be able to see that I was making it."

Saying it aloud makes the flaw impossible to ignore.

"I expected you to understand something I never actually told you."

Sam nods slowly. "You should've told me."

"I should have."

"And I should've asked."

I look at him.

He leans forward, forearms against his knees. "I liked that you didn't ask much from me. I told myself it meant you didn't need anything instead of finding out whether that was true."

My chest tightens.

"I should have told you about London. I should have told you sooner that I wanted more from us."

"Yes."

The certainty in his answer almost makes me flinch.

Then he adds, "And none of that changes what I did when you finally asked me."

I hold his gaze.

"No."

"You asked me directly. I had the answer. I refused to give it to you." His fingers tighten together.

I breathe out slowly. This is what I needed.

Not for Sam to tell me I had done everything perfectly. I hadn't. I expected him to infer things I should have said. I made enormous decisions privately and called it independence because admitting I needed him felt far more dangerous.