Page 53 of Come Apart
Fuck.
God knows I called her that and every name in the book in my head.
But what did that get me?
"Would that do us any good?"
"Tell me the truth."
"We've been over this."
"But you always sugarcoat it." She holds my gaze, staring at me like she really wants me to unleash a flurry of insults.
I did hate her, for a while. But she was such a big part of my life. We went through so much together.
Everything but how shit ended between us was great.
But, man. That bad part was a fucking nuclear explosion.
Still...it tainted everything else, yes—but it didn't erase it.
And then, when she tried to kill herself...It was hard to stay mad.
Even though I had more than enough reason.
I finish my cup of wine and place it on the tray. "You're not a cunt. It wasn't the best thing you've ever done. But you're not a cunt."
She makes a frustrated sound in the back of her throat.
"I'd feel so much better if you hated me as much as I hate myself for it."
I shrug.
"Too bad. I don't."
"You didn't hate me when I told you I was in love with Edward?"
"Fuck, sure. Maybe," I say honestly. "But really I hated him." He was my father. The betrayal cut deeper. If I was honest, Sam and I had been drifting apart before that.
"Luke..."
I give her a sharp look.
"Do you want the truth or not?"
Samantha lowers her voice to a whisper. "Are you ever going to get over it?"
"Why should I? He was a fucker. He basically killed my mom. He almost killed you—"
She interrupts me.
"No, I almost killed me."
"It was at least partially his fault." I frown, thinking back. "You were different before him. You were happy."
"Maybe we shouldn't talk about this." She pushes her blanket off her chest.
She looks so small and fragile like this, even with the sweater covering her tiny paper gown.
