Page 66 of Come Apart
This whole thing between us is so fucking complicated.
I hand her a tissue from the box on the counter. She nods a thank you, and pats her eye.
I keep my voice as steady and reassuring as I can. "I doubt anyone is thinking you're a tramp. Not unless you went back in time to the 1950s."
She cracks a smile. "You know what I mean."
I nod, and I wait for her to catch her breath. This room is so drab and ugly. Who could feel happy in here?
Samantha pats her eyes dry. She offers a tiny smile as if to say she's okay.
I know I should move past this subject, but I can't miss this opportunity.
I look her straight in the eye. "Why did you do it the first time?"
She bites her lip but she holds my gaze. "The weight of it was crushing me. It was the only thing I could feel. I wanted to stop feeling it, and... I didn't know any other way I could do it."
It was at least partially my fault.
I was distant. I was mean. Hell, I was an asshole.
But I had my reasons. It fucking hurt when she told me she was leaving me, and it hurt even more when she crawled back to me after Edward dumped her.
No, that isn't right. She didn't crawl back.
She picked up the pieces, and I begged her to let me help. I begged her to give me another chance.
I begged her to let me help and then I didn't.
Her eyes are on me. Samantha wipes another tear from her eye. She scrunches the tissue into a tiny ball. "It's still killing me. You come here every month and you're so nice to me. I'm so happy when you're here, but whenever you leave, I keep thinking that I took something I didn't deserve. That I'm dragging you down, ruining your life."
"You're not ruining anything." It's not ideal, but it also isn't that dramatic.
She shakes her head. "That's only part of it."
Part of it.
I have no idea what to do.
Did I not do enough the first time, triggering her attempt?
And now she's saying I do too much and that made things worse too?
That doesn't make any sense.
Lately, I sometimes feel like I can't win for losing.
She studies my expression. Her lips press together. Her hands press together. "It's not just you."
"But it's partly me?"
"No, I didn't mean... I'm sorry." She turns her gaze to the floor. "I have such long, empty days in that giant house. It's so lonely and the only respite is your visits. It hurts so much when you leave. It's like there's a weight in my chest and it's dragging me into the ground."
Does she want me to stay with her around the fucking clock? That isn't at all reasonable.
I bite my tongue.
"Luke, I... it's not your fault."
