Page 53 of What are the Chances

“It wasn’t an easy decision, things haven’t been good between us for so long… I just ignored it,” I begin to explain, hugging the small pillow to my chest.

“I’m sorry to hear that, Char… really I am.” Sam’s dark eyebrows draw together in confusion. “But what do you mean it wasn’t an easy decision? I figured it’d be a rather simple one.”

I stop hugging the soft cushion and watch Sam’s eyes as they transform to dark, murky pools of pity.

“What do you mean?” I whisper, not sure what he’s referencing. He must be talking about when Kyle cheated. I had no idea Kyle ever told Sam; I know I never shared those details with him.

Sam runs his hand through his hair and lets out a sigh.

“I haven’t talked to him since I saw the post. I just want you to know that, Char.” He pins me with a firm glare and holds out his hand in a solid gesture before he continues in his thick Irish accent. “If I’d known, there would be no way I would have supported the bastard.”

I stare at his posture and the look of pity that hasn’t left his face, confusion wiggling into my head. What in the world is going on? What is he talking about? I sit up taller, pulling my legs free, needing all the blood flow to process what’s happening here.

“Wait.” My voice shakes. “What exactly are you talking about, Sam?”

Sam’s eyes go back and forth between my own, gauging how honest he should be.

“I thought maybe you’d seen the picture, and that’s why you were bringing this thing up about needing to talk to me.”

I shake my head as blood makes its way to my face.

“I needed to talk to you to tell you I’m falling in love with your brother…”

Sam freezes, not a single muscle in his face moves. Silence wraps around us as my confession hangs out there like an awkward handshake. I want to rush to explain, to clarify, but I know I need to give him a second to process this.

“Feck me,” he sighs. “I didn’t expect that.” He stands and places his hands on his hips, tipping his head up to the ceiling as if he’s searching for the right thing to say.

“I didn’t mean to,” I quickly utter with a small laugh. “He definitely didn’t encourage it… it’s just, being with him… it made me realize I wasn’t really in love with Kyle, not after he cheated last year. I thought I had forgiven him, but maybe I didn’t… not fully. Anyway, I called Kyle and broke up with him,” I explain, lifting my shoulder, hoping it would ease the awkwardness of the situation.

“Did Kyle answer?” Sam uses the same tone Mason did when we discussed the voicemail dumping.

“I tried and tried to call, but he never answered. He still hasn’t returned my calls. I just left him a voicemail. But I ended it with him before I did anything with Mason,” I try to reassure him and myself I was innocent in this whole thing.

Sam shakes his head back and forth, then resumes his seat in the chair.

“Here I was worried to no end how you’d take the news. All the while my little brother was…” he trails off, giving me a side-long glance.

Heat hits my face as assumptions silently run between us. Sam was like a brother to me, so talking to him about having sex with his brother was absolutely not something I would do. But I still had no idea what the hell he was talking about. I narrow my eyes at Sam, hoping to erase the thoughts so clearly running through his mind.

“What picture were you talking about?”

Sam watches me again, releases a heavy sigh, and tosses his phone toward me. It lands beside the knitted pillow I was cradling a few moments ago, the muffled sound of it hitting the cushion filling the room.

I stare at it as Sam says, “Fecking bastard posted this shortly after you landed here.”

I pick up his phone and hold it in my left hand, tapping the screen with my right index finger, bringing the dark screen to life. Staring back at me is a photo of Kyle kissing the same dark-haired woman I’d seen on his computer screen last year. Below this seemingly recent photo, the Instagram post mentioned he was in Spain.

“Well, I guess he had the time off work after all,” I mutter and toss the phone back to Sam.

His face is red, and his eyes are turned down, taking on a hint of remorse… or pity. Damn, I hope it’s not pity. I don’t need it. I don’t want it. I just want to be free from Kyle, once and for all.

“So, that’s dated right after I landed here in Ireland?” I ask, clarifying with Sam. I’m not asking because I’m angry. I’m asking because if it was, I now feel totally off the hook with the voicemail breakup. Kyle didn’t deserve any more explanation than the one I gave.

My mind runs through every thought imaginable. I think about Kyle and our miserable, nonexistent relationship. He had no reservations about posting that picture, not caring whether I would see it. I think of the date-time stamped on the photo. He had already posted it by the time I had kissed Mason after dumping Noodge’s ashes.

“Yeah,” Sam scoffs, interrupting my thoughts. “Bastard won’t answer my calls or texts either. Probably knows you’re with me. It’s a cowardly thing to do, and you deserve better, Char.” Sam’s words are soft and reassuring.

“Thank you, Sam, but I’ve found better with your brother. He’s everything Kyle never was and so much more. I was so afraid to truly let myself love him. At first, I felt like it was all too fast and too much. But seeing that picture of Kyle set me free, in some strange way. Like there’s nothing holding me back now.” I eye my friend and give him a half smile.

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