Page 49 of Begin Again
“Unless there is something else you want to do,” Annie rushes to say and I want to reach out and tell her to stop worrying so much about making sure I’m happy. Of course I’m happy, after six months, I am finally with her in person. And there isn’t anything better than that.
“I’d just like to enjoy being with you,” I finally say.
ANNIE
What the? My heart seems to decide that this is proof that maybe he has forgiven me, and that maybe he and I could really be together. Something that I haven’t dared hope for in the past six months. Mainly because relationships have always been hard for me, but even harder after Mitch. I don't want to drag anyone down with my own screwed up mental health. I’m a lot, and I know that and I don’t want to bring Sam down.
“Okay,” I say, because I’m not sure what else to say. I should tell him now, all the things in my head that I’ve been thinking about for months but haven’t had the courage to say aloud yet. But I don’t.
“Okay,” he echoes my reply back to me. And just like that, it’s decided, the two of us are going to officially spend time together. Something we haven’t done since I was in New York, since those perfect two days with Sam. I feel myself go warm all over with the memory.
I don’t know what to say now. I feel like something slipped inside of me and turned off my ability to speak, even though I was supposed to be finding my voice again.
“This is hard for me,” I tell him as we stand to throw away our garbage.
He freezes. “Me being here?”
I shake my head. “No. Yes. I’m just not sure what to say.”
He nods like this makes sense. Then he smiles at me and I know he’s about to tease me. “You could always say, ‘I’m sorry I freaked out and ran away when things got too real and felt like I had to deal with all my hard things on my own.’ That might be a good place to start.”
I swallow. I am sorry I ran away, but can I actually say those words? “I am sorry, Sam.”
He closes his eyes when I say his name, as if me saying his name does something to him. When he opens his eyes and looks at me, his eyes are clear and bright.
“Apology accepted,” he says as we start to make our way back toward the beach.
I’m stuck for a moment, then I run to catch up with him. “Wait, really?”
“What did you expect, Annie?” he asks me, looking at me curiously. It’s so strange to hear my name from his lips, he never uses my first name. I want him to call me sunshine. “Did you really expect me to hold a grudge? I know that you went through a whole lot of crap in New York that you never told me about. That day I found you in the shower? That was one of the scariest days of my life. The days after were practically perfect, but I still don’t blame you for running, not at all. I just wish you’d told me you were going.”
I swallow thickly. “Why?”
He stops walking and his green eyes seem to shoot straight through my heart. “So I could have been your getaway driver. So you could have known you don’t have to keep facing all this stuff,” he gestures at nothing, “alone. You aren’t alone anymore.”
My heart is pounding in my head. “I’m not?” I ask in a small voice.
He shakes his head, a stray hair comes loose from his bun. “Of course not, sunshine, now you’ve got a husband.” He stuffs his hands in his pockets, as if what he just said didn’t mean anything at all, as if it’s just this light hearted truth, that I have a husband. That I’m his wife.
I'm too stunned to speak. I don’t know whether he’s being serious or not right now. I should take the leap, but it still feels too scary. I know he’s always been around, as my friend, but this feels different. “You know it’s just on paper, right?”
He doesn’t look at me when he speaks next, and it’s probably a good thing I can’t see his face. “It’s never been just on paper for me, Annie.”
There it is with my name again. My stomach flips.
“What do you mean?” I know exactly what he means, but I need him to say the words. I want him to say the words, even if they terrify me.
“I don’t think we’re ready for that conversation,” he answers, his voice quieter now, more reverent.
“When, then?” I ask. In five days, I go back to Colorado and he goes back to New York. But he’s right, I’m not ready for this conversation. I may never be ready for this conversation. It’s terrifying to let yourself fall for someone, especially after the relationship I had before this. I need to move slowly, but I also need to be honest.
He shrugs, looking ahead of us on the path. We’re surrounded by people, but I haven’t really noticed any of them. It’s like it’s just me and him.
“Soon, I hope,” is all he says, then he changes the subject. “Should we find a spot to watch the sunset?”
I nod, and follow him onto the beach. Hopefully, I can talk about everything I feel for him while we’re here. Hopefully, I can be brave.
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