Page 23 of All In
Sam’s head snaps back in surprise, causing me to glance back up at him, a puzzled look etched on his face. “Jennifer? Who is Jenni—” Realization flashes in his eyes as he shakes his head in disbelief. “How did you know about Jennifer?”
I guess it’s time to confess, butI can’t look at him, though, as I admit to it. The shame and embarrassment are too much, so I lower my gaze.
“After Chad and I broke up two years ago, I went to your apartment to try to win you back. That’s when I saw you and her on the building’s front porch. You took her inside, so I left.”
As I continue to focus on the floor, his eyes burn into me while he stays silent at this revelation.
Seconds tick by. “You came to win me back?” he asks in a whisper. I nod my head.
Neither of us says anything as we continue to sway to the music, lost in the moment. With each passing beat, the dance floor grows more crowded, the rising temperature of the room adding to the heat that always existed between us.
I can’t take the silence anymore, so I speak up. “Sam, why don’t you say what you want to say? I know you want to. I deserve it.” He should give me a tongue-lashing. I broke up with him over a letter. A letter that was full of lies. A letter Chad forced me to write.
“I never dated Jennifer.” As he reveals the truth, our eyes lock. He studies me before he continues. “Her and I connected, here actually, about six months afterThe Chad,I felt like maybe—”
Suddenly, I’m very confused. “The Chad?” I question.
A wicked smile crosses his lips. “I nicknamed the letter.”
This makes me snort out a laugh, which causes Sam to chuckle, adding some lightness to an otherwise heavy moment.
Sam continues after we get ourselves under control. “Anyway, I ran into Jennifer here, and we started talking, so I asked her out. She confessed that she always liked me in school, so I thought, why not?”
I turn my head away again because this is harder to hear than I thought it was going to be.
“We went out only once. That night you saw us, apparently.” I nod in agreement and let out a slow breath, mentally preparing myself. He pauses, and his grip on my hand tightens, steadying me for what he is about to say next. “She met me at my place, and we went to dinner, then here for some drinks. We had a good time. She was nice, like she always was in high school. I drove her back to my place and—”
“Stop. I don’t need to know the rest,” I interject, because this is pure torture.
“I couldn’t go through with it, Maria,” he continues. My head jerks up to meet his eyes, hollow and empty.
“Why?” I choke out.
The mutual affection we always shared passes between us as his eyes soften. “Isn’t it obvious?” He whispers.
As we continue to dance, on instinct, our bodies gravitate toward one another. A tingling sensation erupts through my whole body as we come dangerously close. The electricity humming along with nowhere to go.
He’s peering down at me now, and I know what he wants to ask. Finally, he does. “Why, Maria? Why did you do it?”
I quickly avert my gaze back down to the dusty dance floor as I ready myself to lie to him. My voice trembling, I force out the words. “It was complicated.” It’s the only response I offer to anyone brave enough to ask.
I can’t tell him the truth. How my manager sexually harassed me for weeks, leaving me feeling cheap and small. How he forced me to date him, or he would fire me. How I wasn’t brave enough to stand up to him. How I desperately needed the money, even though I can’t tell him why. Then how Chad gave me a raise, one bigger than I deserved. How Chad sat next to me as I wrote the letter, then kissed me after I finished. A single tear ran down my cheek as my new reality came into sharp focus. The story of why I left Chad.
I can’t tell him any of it. I don’t want to ruin what feels like a perfect moment here in the bar I hate, but now, never want to leave. Plus, too much time has passed.
Does he even want me anymore? After what I put him through, probably not.
Thankfully, he doesn’t push as we continue to dance. Sam could always read me like a book. I’m sure he can pick up on the tension in the air, the silence heavy with unspoken words. My shoulders are tight, and I’m biting my lower lip. If he wasn’t holding my hand, I would be biting my nails, so I pick them instead.
All my tells.
Sam knows this because, out of habit, he strokes the exposed skin on my back with his thumb. He pulls our interlaced fingers into his chest as he nudges me toward him. I follow his lead, and before I know it, my head is resting on his chest, his racing heart, thumping away. Bob Seger’s “We’ve Got Tonight” plays as the entire room fades to black. The commotion, the chatter, is gone.
It’s a surreal feeling to be back in Sam’s arms, a place that was a distant memory, and I’m going to relish in it for as long as I can.
He slowly releases his hand from mine and runs his fingers over my wrist and down to the watch, staring at it, studying it, and moving it around. Goosebumps erupt over my arm. “You still have it,” he chokes out, not taking his eyes off it as he runs his fingers under the band, lightly grazing the skin on the inside of my wrist. The intimate touch causes the passion we always felt to pass between us. I force down the tears.
“Maria, can you look at me, please?” I do as he asks. As soon as our eyes connect, we stop dancing. He stares at me intently, scanning my face, memorizingit, the way he always did. I wonder if he misses this, misses us, as much as I do. The darkening of his eyes tells me he does.
