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Thank God she's here. She has options. She's not trapped in an empty relationship like my mom was.
Like Alyssa was.
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
I've had a miserable time sleeping since my mom died. I spend nights tossing and turning, staring at the TV or working until I drop. For so long, I've run away from the fear in my belly--that uneasy feeling that promised I'd lose another person I cared about.
I haven't loved Samantha in a long time, but I've been terrified of losing her. I've been terrified that, if I stopped doting on her, helping her, running to her, she'd swallow another bottle of sleeping pills. That my friendship is the only thing standing between her and suicide.
Alyssa was right. I hate Samantha. I've hated her since the moment she told me about Edward. I hated her for fucking someone else behind my back. I hated her for lying to me. But mostly, I hated her for falling in love with him.
She knew how I despised him. I admit, I was vague about the details. I never felt the need to share that part of my past with her. Truth be told, I doubt she would have cared much. She was too busy concerning herself with how everything looked to give a damn about how things were.
I've swallowed that hate for so long. I've tried to convince myself I could push aside my anger.
But I can't do it anymore.
She's gone too far. She's not just hurting me anymore. She's hurting Alyssa.
And that's unforgivable.
No. That's not right. It's just about Alyssa. Samantha isn't the thing standing in the way of my relationship with Alyssa.
I'm standing in the way.
But not anymore.
Alyssa was right. She always is. I don't like Samantha. I'm helping her out of some misguided sense of obligation. But my attempts at help are useless. She's as depressed as she was a year ago. She's as maladjusted as she was a year ago.
She's never going to get better like this. She's only going to keep dragging me down.
I shake my head. I never would have realized it without Alyssa. I would have kept living that night over and over again--my mom running out of the house, the hours passing quietly as I pretended to sleep, the cops arriving at the doorstep at the break of dawn.
But my mom is gone and there's nothing I can do to bring her back.
If I don't act now, I'm going to lose the most important person in my life. And I can't have that.
And I need to get my life back, so I can give it to Alyssa.
***
I meet Samantha to finalize the transfer of the mortgage. We're in the Chase across from the water. It's like every other Chase in existence--tinted windows blocking out the rest of the world, convincing me I'm in some cocoon of dimness rather than the sunniest part of the country.
I stare at the contract. It's a fair deal, not that I care about the money. I have plenty of money, even if most of it once belonged to my father.
The paper seems more blindingly white than usual. That black ink seems darker, more permanent.
I run my fingers along the smooth plastic of the ballpoint pen. It's only a house. I'll miss it, sure, but it's not worth the fight.
I sign on the dotted line. Samantha wears the happiness in her eyes, but she tries to play it cool. She offers me a handshake. Then, fuck it, she throws her arms around me in a hug. It's too tight, too close, too intimate. A few weeks ago I would have denied it meant anything.
But now it's too obvious to ignore.
I may hate Samantha, but I still don't want to destroy her.
"Thanks, Luke," she says.
She squeezes me tighter, even as I pull away.
