How close was Sam to leaving? Seconds. Wyatt ran right in front of his car and stopped with his hands on the hood. Sam hit the brakes just in time and lurched forward as he stared wide-eyed at him.
Stepping out of the car while leaving it to idle, Sam started yelling at him, "Are you crazy? What were you thinking?"
Wyatt didn't bother to say anything. He simply rushed to him and took him in his arms, holding him tight like he would imprison him, do anything to keep him there. But as he felt Sam's breath against his neck, he heard him whisper, "Wyatt, don't."
Letting go of Sam, he stepped back. Not too far though. Still within reach, ready to grab him and make him stay.
"Tell me you're not doing this," Wyatt demanded in a gravelly voice as his eyes fell on the passenger seat of Sam's car. He slowly shut his eyes, shutting out the sight of Sam and his backpack and duffel bag and everything it meant.
Speechless, uncomprehending, he opened his eyes to Sam's beautiful face, his expression pained. For a long moment Wyatt only stared at him.
"How close did I just come to losing you?" he asked. His voice came out harsher than he intended, but he couldn't help it.
All morning fear had been building inside him. Now Wyatt wondered if he hadn't come when he did, would Sam have been gone already.
It was a terrifying thought.
"You're not leaving," he told Sam. He didn't mean to order him around, but he couldn't let him leave. He couldn't lose anyone else.
"I have to do this," Sam insisted.
"Not too long ago you were accusing me of planning to leave, and now look at what you're doing."
Sam turned away like he didn't want to face the truth of it.
***
The way Wyatt had jumped in front of his car was so crazy, and now he was so impassioned trying to get Sam not to leave. He made Sam's head spin.
But it didn't change anything. Sam had made up his mind. All he had to do was stay strong and stick with his decision. But that was even harder now that Sam was face to face with him, and the hurt look in Wyatt's eyes cut him up inside.
"You're leaving me," Wyatt stated to drive the point home.
That sounded so wrong, Sam started to deny it. "No. I..." But it was true. That's exactly what he was doing. Why couldn't he face up to it?
"You seem so sweet and good, Sam, and here you are ready to break my fucking heart." With those accusing words, Wyatt's eyes flashed with anger then turned unbearably hurt again. Sam couldn't stand the thought that he was the one causing him pain.
"That's not..."
Wyatt wouldn't let him deny it. "That's what you're doing, Sam. The kids are counting on you for the festival. Did you forget that?"
"Raquel can..." Sam started to say.
"No," Wyatt said sharply. "You told them you would be there."
"Don't, Wyatt," Sam implored him. "You know I want to be there." It killed him that he was going to disappoint DJ and Riley.
"Then come back with me," Wyatt said and he offered Sam his hand. The look in his eyes softened, became warm, pulling Sam in.
Sam wished so much that he could take his hand and do what Wyatt wanted, but his decision was made. "I can't."
At those words, Wyatt's eyes once again wore the angry look that came and went ever since he found Sam. His expression stark, wounded, Wyatt snapped at him, "That's a fucking lie. I'm not going back home without you just to tell the boys you ran out on them."
"It's not like that!" Sam protested. He didn't want Wyatt to hate him, but maybe that's how it had to be. Sam would have to take his hate and carry it away with him along with the threat he brought into Wyatt's peaceful life.
"Come back and prove it," Wyatt demanded.
He looked so mad, but Sam was getting mad too. Angry tears filled his eyes. How could Wyatt not understand that he was doing this for him? "You don't get it," he said to Wyatt, his voice cracking.
