Page 40 of All In
We hold our pose. Both of us flashing our biggest smiles. The smiles that will be framed and grace our parents’ fireplace mantels for years to come.
“One, two, three!” The bright flash fires.
And one face bursts before my eyes.
My Sam.
Then the flash disappears.
And so does Sam.
Chapter fourteen
October 2002
Sam
“Let’s get married!”
Erica’s fork stops mid-bite as she looks at me, stunned at my outburst in the middle of this run-down BBQ joint in downtown Atlanta. Her fork hovers for a brief second before returning to her plate.
“I’m sorry … what?” she asks, confused by my—oh, I don’t know what you call it—a semi-proposal? She stares at me, blinking as the chatter of other diners fills the air.
“You heard me. Let’s get married,” I reiterate because I am dead serious.
And look, I know this sounds confusing. It was just over a year ago when Maria, for the third time, shattered me completely. As I left her house that night—the night before her wedding—a newfound determination filled my heart.
It was twofold.
Never let Maria affect me again and get over her as fast as possible by any means necessary.
Start a new life in Georgia.
It turns out number two was a lot easier.
I spent the day of Maria’s wedding stone cold drunk. My plan was to black out and not remember the whole day. I was pretty successful.
Then, one week later, I had my whole life packed up in about ten different boxes, shoved into my car. I didn’t renew the lease on my apartment and left the furniture. The car was so packed that I couldn’t see out the rearview window. A twelve-hour drive later, I was in Georgia. Determined to start fresh and ready to move on.
Jasmine and Big C were kind enough to let me stay in their spare room above the garage till I got on my feet. I went to bed every night feeling stronger with a renewed sense of purpose … but also with Maria’s ring and letters tucked away under the bed.
I said I felt stronger. That doesn’t mean I wasn’t still weak.
Removing Maria out of my thoughts and heart was the hardest thing I have ever done. Thankfully, my PhD program provided a constant stream of work, keeping my mind occupied. Ricky, on occasion, would try to give me updates on her, but I told him I didn’t want to hear it. I needed a clean break. And that is what I was doing here in Georgia. I put five states plus six hundred and eighty-five miles between us.
Was it hard? Yes. Was it necessary? Definitely yes.
Then, one night about four months ago, at a local brewery, I bumped into one of the most outrageous and sexy women I have ever met. The one sitting across from me right now, mouth hanging open from my declaration.
Erica.
