Page 25 of The Man I Love

“What do you mean, no?” Renee practically yelled.

“I had exactly sixteen hours with him. I didn’t want to mess it up by talking about things that were unpleasant.”

She remembered his words when he returned from his phone call with Penny.“We have exactly four more hours until you get on that plane…”

She’d thought about arguing with him, thought about making him tell her what he’d been hiding from her. A million questions had burned in her mind in that moment, but she realized he was right.

“Back when Tristan and I first got together,” she said,” I made a promise. To you, to him, and myself. I promised I’d never use my relationship with either one of you to my advantage. Do you remember that?”

“Yes…” Renee said suspiciously. “What are you getting at?”

Sam pushed herself to sit, dangling her feet off the edge of the bed. “If it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t even know about the phone calls. If it wasn’t for you”—she rose to stand, letting the towel drop from her neck to the floor—“I wouldn’t know anything about your father.”

“So!”

“Tristan will tell me when he’s ready.Notbecause I forced him to by knowing something I shouldn’t—something I knew only because of my relationship withyou.”

Renee was silent, but soft music played in the background indicating she was still there.

“Something is bothering him,” Sam continued. “He took a phone call from Penny in the other room. I can’t tell if it’s work that’s stressing him out, or your dad, or the fact that we’re living apart for months—but he’ll tell me when he’s ready. I need to trust that he’ll do that. I need to allow him the space to come to me on his own.”

It was painful, because there were moments she wanted to shake it out of him, but she knew in this case that she needed to be patient.

Renee chuckled, her voice soft and tired when she finally spoke. “Why do you always have to be so mature, Sam? It’s really irritating.”

She closed her eyes, remembering the deep hollows under Tristan’s eyes that hadn't been there before she’d moved to New York. “Everything will be fine,” she whispered, but even as the words left her lips, she wondered if they could take another eight months of this.

11

CHAPTER ELEVEN

January

Seven Months Earlier

New York

In the coming weeks,Sam threw her entire soul into her art. The final push toward the grand opening was filled with interviews, parties, and pop-up exhibits, too many to count. Every waking moment was scheduled, leaving little room to breathe, let alone think. Mall events, meet and greets, anything and everything to spread the news about The Gallery.

Today was the day before the grand opening, and Sam heaved an exhausted sigh when a FaceTime call popped up on her cell phone from her parents.

She’d been expecting it, yet somehow, she wasn’t ready. It wasn’t the conversation that she dreaded, but her mother’s guilt which would rip her heart apart. Sam’s mother had a debilitating fear of flying, and no matter how many times Sam assured her that it was fine that they didn’t come to her grand opening, her mother’s shame wouldn’t hear it.

Samantha loosened the apron around her neck, wiped her hands on the fabric, then opened the call. “Hello,” she said, hanging her apron on a peg as she walked toward the living room.

Her parents’ faces appeared on the screen side by side. “Sammy girl!” her dad spoke as though she were still five years old. “How’s our favorite artist?”

Her parents sat in the middle of her childhood dining room; the background filled with balloons in shades of silver and gray, with a large congratulations banner hanging above their heads.

Sam smiled. “You got me balloons!” She lowered herself to the couch, her eyes instantly brimming with tears.

“Nothing but the best for our girl,” her dad answered. “Are you ready for the big show tomorrow?”

“Just about.” Sam stacked some books on the coffee table, arranging them just so, until she could prop her phone against them. “It’s been a whirlwind of a week,” she stated. “My dress is finally back from the seamstress. I’ve confirmed my hair appointment for tomorrow. The only thing left to do is wait, which, surprisingly, is taking up all my time.”

Her mom’s voice cracked. “We’re so proud of you, honey. If it wasn’t the dead of winter, we would have made the drive, you know that don’t you?”

“Mom.” Sam picked up the phone as though trying to get closer through the screen. “I know,” she whispered. She could see her mom was close to tears. “Things will be hectic tomorrow. I have so many responsibilities that I probably wouldn’t have had time to spend with you, anyway.” Which was a total lie. She would have made time for them. She would have taken them to all her favorite places in the city, and they would have loved every moment. Especially her father, who always got so excited by bright shiny things. Someday, she would take him toTimes Square, to Broadway, and buy them hot dogs from her favoritestreet vendor.

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