Page 65 of Come Apart
I hold her gaze. "When you asked for honesty, I gave it to you."
She looks down at her cards and spends what seems like forever rearranging them. "By the time he and I first had sex, you and I weren't connecting. I swear, Luke." She meets my gaze earnestly, her expression pained. "I was looking for an out, and that was it. You have to admit, things were pretty strained."
She's not wrong about that. It isn't an excuse, but she's not wrong.
"Thanks for telling me the truth."
"Are you mad?" Her voice is hesitant, careful.
"No," I say. Though I don't know if that's entirely true.
Hell, there's so much shit swirling inside of me right then I don't know if I could even pick it apart.
"I'm really sorry, Luke. I don't know if I'll ever apologize enough for lying."
Her apologies feel like volleys I have to keep fielding.
"You don't have to keep apologizing. I forgave you a long time ago."
It's hard to stay mad at someone after she tries to kill herself with your bottle of sleeping pills.
I pull a card from the draw pile, but I don't look at it. My eyes are on Samantha. She's still looking at her cards, doing a poor job of hiding how much she hates this topic.
She usually looks so polished. She usually keeps up her brave face so well. I barely recognize her like this.
She needs me right now. She wouldn't let anyone else see her like this.
She trusts me.
Her eyes turn to the floor. "I get so guilty, I can't sleep." It's a low whisper. "We had our flaws. You have your flaws. But you treated me better than any guy ever has. And I wanted so badly to stay in love with you, but I couldn't. And, instead of telling you... I strung you along while I fell in love with someone else."
She runs her fingers over the edges of the cards. "I don't care what you think about it. I don't care if you're over it, or if you've forgiven me. I'm not over it. It was an awful thing to do, and only an awful person would do it."
"That's not true."
The words stick in my throat but I push them out.
She gives me side eye.
"Don't, Luke. I know you have different ideas about morality with your ‘people can't be stolen’ bullshit. But I don't care what you think or what your opinion is. I still feel awful."
I scoot closer to the bed, trying to understand. "Is that why..."
I don't even know how to complete that question.
She frowns, her eyebrows furrowing, her gaze on the ground. She looks... lost. "I fucked up my life so badly. None of my friends speak to me anymore. I couldn't face them if I wanted to."
I offer my hand, but she doesn't take it.
"They'll understand," I say.
"Don't, Luke." Her voice is heavy with emotion. "I don't want your empty encouragement. It only makes it harder when reality hits. I don't need you to lie to me and pretend like my friends don't hate me. Or like everyone at work doesn't think I'm a tramp."
Samantha blinks back a tear. She takes off her glasses and wipes her eyes with her free hand.
I can't just sit here. I need to do something.
But a hug would be too much.
