Page 47 of Begin Again
I’m staring and I know it. But I haven’t seen Sam in six months, not since I told him I was leaving to start something new and he didn’t follow me—because I asked him not to. I watch as Sam, my husband—I suppress a shiver at the reminder—takes me in, all of me, from head to toe. He’s looking at me as if he can’t believe that I’m alive, that I’m here, that I’m real. To be honest, I kind of feel the same way about him. Everything is different now, for so many reasons. But it’s good to see him.
I just don’t know if he’s forgiven me or if he will forgive me for the way I left things and I’m not really sure what to do about that.
“Want to come in?” I don't know how I manage to find the words, but I do. I open the door wider so he can make his way into the room. There’s a small kitchen right as you walk in, and the door to the massive bathroom. Inside the room area is a king size bed and a couch that I’m hoping turns into a bed for Sam’s sake. While I slept the best I’ve ever slept with him by my side, I don’t know if he feels the same way, especially now.
“Nice place,” he says, dropping his bag by the window, and looking out over one of the resort's pools. “Did Noah tell you his flight was canceled?”
I nod, my brain is trying to catch up with my body. I have the irresistible urge to go and hug Sam, but that would make everything confusing. We’re married and I left. He knows that, I know that. But my heart is pounding in my stomach and roaring in my ears and it’s all I can do to not move to him and wrap my arms around him.
I feel safe these days. I’m doing much better thanks to therapy, getting out of New York, and moving to Estes Park. I can’t help but wonder if I’d still feel safe in his embrace, if things could be different between us, if he even wants that anymore.
“I just got off the phone with him. He asked if I was okay with you staying here with me, since you can’t get into your room with it under his name.” I know I’m regurgitating information and that he already knows this since he showed up at my door.
“Is it okay that I’m here?” he asks me quietly, so quietly like he’s afraid to be in my space. I take a step closer to him.
“It’s okay.” I meet his eyes. “But you will be sleeping on the couch bed.”
“Of course.” His grin makes me want to hug him or be hugged by him, but I hold myself back as he says, “I want you to be comfortable.”
My heart feels like it breaks into a million pieces at his words. He’s not supposed to worry about me still.
“I’m good,” I tell him and I mean it. “I’m sorry I haven’t called.”
“Where did you end up?” he asks, looking out the window again and ignoring my apology.
“Estes Park,” I tell him. “I just signed a lease for a restaurant space.”
Sam whirls around, grinning. He takes two steps toward me before slowing his pace, hesitant to reach out and touch me. “That’s incredible, sunshine.”
My stomach swirls at the nickname. When did my brother say he’d be getting here? I don’t know if I’ll make it with Sam as my only companion here for the next thirty or so hours.
“Did you pick a name for it yet?” Sam asks me.
“No, that’s still a work in progress.” Actually, a lot of it is a work in progress. I need to find a business manager to help with all of the logistics. I can make great food, but I am not a savvy business person. “I’m looking for a manager right now to help with everything. I know how to do the food part, but not anything else.”
This is part of the reason why starting my own restaurant took so long, because I don’t really like letting people into my circle, and finding someone to go into business with seems like a huge task. Plus, I haven’t really been ready until this point.
He looks at me curiously. “I’ve got a business degree. I can ask around to see if any of my buddies would be able to help.”
Part of me wishes he’d offer himself, but that would be asking way too much. I couldn’t do that to him. I wouldn’t ask him to move away from his life in New York. To give up his life as a famous YouTuber. I haven’t let myself check out his channel since I left. I broke my own heart and had to live with the pain.
Suddenly, these four walls around us feel too small for me and all the emotions I’m feeling. I should probably text my therapist and tell her that Sam is here and it’ll just be the two of us until everyone else arrives tomorrow. She’ll know what I should do. Actually, I can hear her voice in my head telling me that I should tell him how I feel, how I want to try again with him. But that feels like jumping off a cliff. So I don’t reach for my phone.
“That would be great, thanks,” I say. “Do you want to go get some food?”
“Sure,” he answers. “Let me just freshen up a bit then we can head out.”
He walks past me, careful not to touch me as he passes. I let out my breath as the door shuts behind him. I pull out my phone and text Emily and my friend Hannah from Estes Park.
Sam is HERE. My brother’s flight got CANCELED. I have to verify all the venue stuff with SAM. LOW KEY FREAKING OUT.
I don’t expect to hear back from Hannah for a while. She runs a summer camp for kids with anxiety disorders and it takes pretty much all of her time these days. I try to think about what time it is in Colorado right now. Eight maybe? That means it’s nearly time for the kids’ bonfire at night. I went to the camp last week to help out before I came here. It was fun, and it’s amazing what Hannah does for the kids.
And Emily is probably wrangling her kids into bed, so it’ll be a bit before either one can respond. I flip my phone over.
Sam comes out of the bathroom. “Shall we?” he asks and I nod, getting up off the bed and following him out the door.
“There are some food trucks about half a mile walk from here,” I tell him as we step out into the somewhat humid air. The salty smell of the ocean hits me like a wave and I feel like I can relax. I never thought I was an ocean person, but it turns out, I kind of really love it.
