Page 56 of Without You, Scotch and Sammy 2

“What about me, though?”

I look along her legs and up to her eyes. “What about you?”

“Would I do that? Do you think I’d date – or try to date – one of your brothers?”

My massaging hands work up her ankle, following the muscle and forgetting about the bruise. “I dunno. I wouldn’t think so, no. But it’s been a long time, and maybe you had a crush on Luc in school. But in my apartment, right now? No. I don’t think you would.”

Sammy pinches her lips together. She’s not entirely satisfied with my answer, and honestly, I’m not either. Because it leaves that chance… And I don’t want there to be a chance.

“For the record, I never had a crush on Luc at school.”

“Because he was a sophomore?”

“No, because I had you. You made it so that was enough.”

She’s trying to be sweet, but bitterness rages within me. “Obviously not enough,” I bite out. I push her feet from my lap and snatch up my guitar, and I strum the cords as Sammy scrambles to sit up after my abrupt stop. I play Rosie’s song, and think about all the ways I thought I was being enough for Sammy. I spoiled her with love and affection, attention, things. I thought I was more than enough, and she never complained. But she still left. “Are you in a relationship now, Samantha?” Is he enough?

“A relationship? No.”

“Dating?”

“I’ve dated, but nothing stuck.”

My eyes snap to hers. “You’ve dated? And you remained married to me?” You’ve dated, while I sat at home for thirteen fucking years and waited for you?

She shrugs without noticing my clenched fists. “I went on a couple dates, but nothing worked out. I was too busy with school to go out much, but after that, after school and when I started working, I got out a little bit more.”

I stare at the floor in front of me and my left hand squeezes the neck of the guitar tightly. “Sorry they didn’t work out.” Not sorry at all. I hope she was fucking miserable on her own.

She shrugs softly, and the neck of the over-large sweater falls off one shoulder, revealing the creamy white flesh that I so desperately wish I had the freedom to taste, and ink that I wish I could explore. “This is a pretty song. It’s new?”

“Yup. Wrote it recently for a girl I know.”

Sammy nods softly, sitting back on the couch again. “It’s pretty.”

“It’s for a pretty girl.”

“It’s for Nancy?”

I look over to her dejected face, and smile internally. She might not want me anymore, but she still doesn’t like hearing about me and other girls. Good! “Nope, different girl. Her name is Rosie. She’s beautiful.” I’m an asshole.

Sammy nods softly as she plays with her nails. “I don’t have to ask if you’ve been dating, since I already met Nancy. She’s beautiful too.”

“Yup. She is.” She’s also pissed at me because I finally replied to her texts with a ‘not interested. I’m sorry.’ “I left my list in the kitchen. When’s our first appointment?” Sammy looks up at me in question, so I clarify, “So we can get Lily sorted and adopted.” So they can leave again.

“We have an interview on Monday at noon. Does that work for you?”

“Here, or in the city?”

“Here. Shari’s lawyer offered to help organize it. She found a conference room for me, and we have a third-party mediator coming in to conduct the interview. It’ll be a representative from Human Services, and they’ll ask us things about our relationship, finances, health. That sort of stuff.”

“So we should probably get our story straight.”

She frowns softly. “No, I figure we can just go in with the truth… minus the separation.”

“The truth?”

“Yeah, high school sweethearts, married young, that sort of stuff. Minus the separation.”

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