Page 72 of Thorns That Bloom
Sam shifts his shoulders. “Twenty-nine. For a few more months, anyway.”
“See?!” I blurt, startling him. “I’m twenty-five. We’re barely five years apart!”
He looks amused. “That’s half a decade,” he says, slowly reaching for his drink. “Though I suppose at this stage of life, we’re not that different. Even if I feel like certain things have aged me a decade or two…”
My heart aches at the mention of it. And over the way his eyes lose their spark a little. I don’t want him to think about that.
“I’m so,sosorry it happened,” I whisper. It would probably be best to change the topic quickly, but I can’t help myself.
Sam hums and sips his drink. “I guess if it didn’t, I never would’ve had her,” he says, running his hand over his bulging stomach with a somber smile. “And I would’ve never gotten transferred. Never would’ve met you. You never would’ve metyourfated mate.” Stressing those words, Sam fixes his eyes on me. I don’t know whether the way he said them was meant to mock the notion of it or if he’s indicating that he might be coming around on his opinion about it.
I doubt it’s the latter.
As right as he is, what he said gives me pause. “I’d rather never have met you or experienced what I feel if it meant that wouldn’t have happened to you.”
Sam frowns, visibly taken aback. I can’t imagine why he would be, and try not to let it hurt me as much as it does. “You…would?”
“Of course.” I say firmly.
There’s a moment of silence. Judging by his pensive expression, Sam is somewhere deep inside his head. My mind races to come up with a way to get us out of this hole of not so pleasant thoughts and toward more cheerful topics. This evening was supposed to be about his comfort and joy.
“Sometimes, life makes these choices for you,” he mutters, almost to himself, and reaches for his drink. He glances around us, noticing that no one really pays attention, then looks back at me again. His gaze softens, and he leans with his elbows against the table. “I appreciate your selflessness, I do. But I’m not even sure if that would’ve worked. It likely would’ve happened, anyway. You see, shereallywanted to be here. And I’m saying that as someone who doesn’t believe in that stuff.” With a chuckle, he looks down.
I raise my brow questioningly. There’s a bittersweet undertone to his words.
He’s watching the mint leaves sticking to the sides of his glass and swirling the ice at the bottom of it. Clearly, there’ssomething he wants to say, but isn’t certain if he should.
I slowly move my hand over the table next to his. I don’t touch it, only inch my finger toward his sleeve and keep it there. When he glances up at me, I give an encouraging expression. His scent comes out, careful and tender and…trusting.
“When I went to the hospitalafter, they— After doing the rape kit, they ask you if you want an emergency contraceptive pill. It’s a…part of the protocol, I guess.”
His brows twitch closer together, and his gaze shifts to somewhere behind me. When I reach for his hand and gently place mine over the top of his, Sam lets me.
“I was jittery and disgusted and completely messed up. And I sure as hell didn’t think about wanting a child. So I took it. I took the pill. A few weeks passed. I was too busy drowning in a dark depressive hole and struggling to find legal help to really care about my body or pay attention to it. In fact, that was exactly the opposite of what I was trying to do,” he lets out a small, weak chuckle. “It wasn’t until I was throwing up and my favorite shampoo started making me gag that I thought to check. And somehow…she still held on in there.”
I tighten my grip on his hand, feeling it relax in response. “She’s a fighter. Like you,” I say with a smile, even as my heart aches.
Sam nods. “She…wanted to be here. When I went to get checked, they said sometimes the pill doesn’t work as well with us venus. The standard, most widely used one was made for betas. Our fertility is much stronger.”
“Yeah. My dads told me about that.”
“The nurse asked me if I wanted another. There was stilltime, but…at that point, all I could think about was whether I had done any damage to her with the pill. If she was okay. I came from a place of sitting in my apartment in the dark, not eating or showering for days, and the confirmation that she was still there with me was like a stream of light. I wanted to fight…for her. I wanted to keep her. At that moment, I knew that this baby could be the one good thing to come out of all my suffering. My way through. My way out of the hole. No matter how hard it was going to be, or if I had to do it all by myself. Shehadto be.”
I watch a tear roll down his flushed cheek and, by god, if he wasn’t upset about something so traumatic, I would’ve gushed over how magnificently handsome he is, even crying.
I get brave and maybe a little too comfortable, touching the hot skin on his high-set cheekbone to wipe the tears away. Sam blinks and holds his breath, but he doesn’t pull away. With embarrassment, he looks around us and sniffles.
“It’s alright. No one’s looking,” I say and shift my torso so that I at least shield him from the room a little. “Besides, you’re allowed to feel your feelings.”
Sam leans back, slipping away from my grasp, but more because of insecurity, I think. He smiles at me before he wipes his face.
“Yeah, I know. I’ve been really trying to work on that.”
“Which is why you’ll be a great parent. I don’t like the idea of you having to do it by yourself. Not…because I don’t think you can do it or anything. It’s just that I know that single parents have to sacrifice a lot. I know they do that willingly, but I don’t like the idea of you having to give up things or not having everything you could ever want or deserve,” I say, the words coming slower out of my mouth the more I say as I realize he might not appreciate this kind of possessive thinking. I only want him to be happy.
When I glance up at him, Sam is staring at me openly, pensively, almost without blinking. He rests his elbows on the table separating us again and leans in, not breaking our gaze.
Oh, the way he looks at me… It does things to me. Lovely, wicked things.
