Page 47 of Waiting for a Prince
“I’m a fucking mess,” Mark whispered back. “I told myself I could do this. I could just be his friend.” What he hadn’t counted on was Sam.
The man was addictive.
The more time they spent together, the more strongly Mark felt himself drawn to Sam. A day didn’t go by without some contact with him in one way or another. Phone calls. Facebook. Texts. WhatsApp. Facetime. Sam was the last thing in his thoughts each night as he drifted off to sleep. Mark would wake the following morning to a smiley on his phone and a cheeryMorning! Certainly nothing earth-shattering, but he looked forward to his morning texts with eagerness.
Sonia cradled him in her arms. “Is it serious, him and Rebecca? Because I have to ask myself—if it’s doing this toyou, how is Sam coping?”
Mark groaned. “I don’tknow!” And that was the hardest part. He really didn’t.
Sonia reached into her pocket and pulled out a crumpled paper tissue. She handed it to him, and he wiped his eyes angrily.
“You must think I’m such a basket case.”
“Oh, sweetie.” Sonia pulled away to look him in the eye. “Now, you need to listen. This has to stop. It isn’t good for you.” Mark drew back from her, swallowing. “You know I’m right. Okay, so Sam says he’s gay, but he’s got a girlfriend. Which makes him bi in my book.” All of a sudden she tilted her head, her eyes wide. “Oh my God—she could just be a beard.” Mark gasped and Sonia’s eyes sparkled. “What—you didn’t think I knew what a beard was? I told you, I have a few gay friends apart from you.” She bit her lower lip. “Do you think Rebecca knows she’s just a cover?”
“I don’t give afuckwhat Rebecca knows.” Mark spat out the words. “I only know she has Sam and I don’t, and it’s killing me.” He hated the plaintive whine in his voice. “God, justlistento me. How sad am I—in love with my best friend.”
Sonia nodded, her eyes never leaving his. “And that’s why you need to pull the plug, sweetie. Before you get in any deeper.”
Mark snorted. “I think I’m in as deep as it gets.” He gave himself a mental shake. “Anyway, I have to take Kathy her coffee.” He reached for the cup, but Sonia stopped him, laying a hand on his arm.
“Let me do that. You pull yourself together in here for a sec.” She gave him a tight smile and walked out of the kitchen with the coffee. Mark wiped his eyes once more and blew his nose. He knew Sonia was right, of course. This was doing him no good atall. But the thought of walking away from Sam wrenched at his heart.
I don’t think I can do it.
Only thing was, he couldn’t see any other way out of this mess. Someone’s heart was bound to get broken in the process—and Mark could lay money on it being his.
Sam was beginning to wish he’d ignored the doorbell, except that wasn’t an option.
He wouldn’t put it past Rebecca to hammer on the door and annoy the hell out of his neighbours.
He was still fuming that she’d derailed his third Sunday in a row. And if it turned out to be yet another occasion when she’d cancel it right at the last minute, he was going to….
What, Sam? What will you do? Say something? Yell at her? Tell her enough is enough?
Yeah. He wouldn’t do any of those things. But there were days when the prospect of subjecting himself to his dad’s explosion and consequent fallout was better than a future with her, even a limited future.
Except you have no idea how long this will continue, do you?
“So where is it we’re going tomorrow?” he asked, unable to keep the weariness from his voice.
I am so freakingtiredof this.
Rebecca sat on the couch, nursing a mug of tea. She rolled her eyes. “Dad’s having a party on the boat.”
“Is it a special occasion?”
She chuckled. “He doesn’t need an excuse to throw a party.”
Sam frowned. “How come he isn’t the one inviting me? He has my number.”
Her eyes flashed. “Because he asked me to? Because he’s too busy? Because he assumes I’d probably be seeing you?”
The likelihood of her dad cancelling a party was pretty remote.
So it looks as if I won’t be spending tomorrow with Mark.
“You could stop working and pay some attention to me, you know,” she said with a pout. “I didn’t come over here to drink tea while you work.”
