Page 1 of Without You, Scotch and Sammy 2

PART 2

Not So Young.

Not So In Love.

– Sammy –

Shari Lytto

Thirteen Years Later

My life was never supposed to work out this way. I’m thirty-one years old, I’m single, and I’m living it up in the big city.

Except, this is exactly the plan I made when I was a teenager.

What’s that saying? Be careful what you wish for.

The year I started dating Samuel Turner, my life, a life that was so single track and black and white, suddenly turned into a grey tinged ‘Y’ intersection, wrought with jutting edges and painful corners.

Turn left – live this life in this way.

Turn right – live that life that way.

Do nothing… ruin his life.

The third option was the only one that I couldn’t live with, which meant it wasn’t an option at all.

I made plans when I was far too young to truly understand the complexities and consequences of my actions. Every action I did and did not make, had disastrous reactions.

Before ninth grade, I was just me, and I was fine with the plans I had made, but then Samuel came along and changed everything. He changed my life for the better, and I’ll never forget him… or his striking blue eyes that looked at me with such warmth, despite their resemblance with ice. I’ll never forget the way his curly hair hung in his lashes, or the way his large hands held me and instantly soothed any hurt that I ever felt.

Sam Turner could fix absolutely anything… except that one time.

We had less than one good year together, and excluding that last day or so, it’s still, to this day, the very best year of my life. But the world was never supposed to be that kind to me, so instead it gave me everything else I wished for.

Get out of that godforsaken, two-bit, backwards ass town full of snooty assholes and jerks who like to know everyone’s business and never deal with their own shit behind closed doors.

Done.

Never, ever return to said godforsaken, two-bit town.

Done.

Find freedom, get away from my parents, go to school.

Done. Done. And done.

Degree in psychology.

Done… With honors.

Masters in Social work.

Done… With honors.

And because I had nothing better to do with my time, I also studied Neuroscience.

Then as a final ‘fuck you’ to my overbearing, life ruining, lying sack of shit parents who just so happened to be paying my tuition, I also wasted their money and got a degree in yacht operations and floristry.

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