Page 76 of Without You, Scotch and Sammy 2

“… Your bad.” With a rage unlike anything I’ve ever felt in my entire life, while my heart thrashes inside my chest, tearing itself from the arteries that feed it life, I slam Lily’s door so hard the entire car shakes, then I turn and walk away. I’m out. I have her list of appointments. I’ll turn up to them, I’ll play the part, then I’m getting her the fuck away from here. My sister was right. There was no way this could end well, and the small hope that recently began to bloom that I might be able to ‘get over’ what she did, just exploded in my face. With two callous words, Samantha Ricardo just broke my fucking heart. Again.

I already hated her actions. It’s taken me thirteen years to get as far as I have, to process what she did and come to terms with it, but her inability to own her decisions is a new low.

Make a shitty decision. Fine. We all do. We all make mistakes. But her inability to own up to it officially pushed me over that line I was so desperate to find.

I was so worried I’d always be stuck in this in-between. I couldn’t hate her enough to let her go. But I couldn’t love her enough to forgive her. Only the second half was a lie. Because I could love her enough. I still love her enough. She could do just about anything and I’d forgive her and keep coming back, but her inability to own her decisions has my gut rolling with disgust.

I can love her for the rest of my life. I will love her for the rest of my life, but I can’t even be in the same space as her and not want to spew in her face.

With her simple, cold words, she officially severs that last tie to her. Dooming me to a lifetime of loving someone that I can never be happy with.

A sense of relief and dread both swirl and mingle in my gut.

Relief, because I can finally walk away.

And dread… because I can finally walk away.

– Sammy –

Closure

Sam didn’t come home last night.

Lily and I came back to the apartment to cool off and take a breath. If my daddy taught me anything, it was to take a breath before reacting.

It was to always stay cool under pressure.

It was to never incriminate yourself.

Unfortunately, that last point was a total failure on my part, because I walked away letting Sam believe I committed an act I did not.

But I’m done, so it doesn’t matter.

He’s not the man I loved.

He’s not the man I knew in high school.

He’s simply a bitter asshole and in no way related to the Sam I once knew. And I don’t care for his approval anymore. He can believe whatever he wants, and since I guess he’s believed that about me this whole time, then nothing actually changes.

But it does explain some of the hate from his family and friends.

Silver linings.

Less confusion.

Lily and I stayed at the apartment last night, but this morning, Tuesday morning, when he still hasn’t returned, I start cleaning away the things we used in the kitchen in preparation to leave, and for the second time this year, I come across a large corporate envelope with my name on it.

I find it tucked away in a drawer. Not out, but not hidden either. It’s just there, taunting me like ‘I can’t believe you didn’t find me until now.’ The address is faded as though it was written there forever ago, but as I open it up and find divorce papers, I realize that it really shouldn’t hurt as much as it does.

I sit down heavily in the kitchen chair and stare at the benign envelope and the small stack of papers with folded ‘sign here’ tabs. Like he thinks I’m a total fucking idiot, like I need a road map to find the spaces that say ‘signature.’

In the entire time since I left Sam, I’ve never once picked up my phone to call my folks for a single second of coddling. I never called a friend. I didn’t dare dial Sam’s number, although I wanted to a billion times. I sat alone in my apartment and ate my feelings and cried until I became numb.

Sam Turner ruined me when I was just a girl, and though I warned him, and I warned myself, it still happened. He still ensured I’d never be able to move on. I’d never be able to have a healthy adult relationship, because he built ours up to a level that simply cannot be reached by another man.

And he’d warned me that that would happen. That there would never be another man for me.

Tears sting the backs of my eyes as I read over the papers.

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