Page 60 of Dreaming Without Heartache

“I was hoping we could talk out here.” I nod toward the rocking chairs on the porch.

“Sure,” she says cautiously as she closes the door. “I’m sorry I left without saying goodbye this morning,” she begins as we sit in the rockers. “I texted Mom late last night to tell her I’d be home early. She has breakfast with a group of ladies every Sunday, and I didn’t want to make her late.”

“No worries.” I start rocking slowly, hoping to ease my nervousness. “I’m sorry to have kept you so late. Nothing that happened last night was planned.”

“I’m not complaining.” She crosses her legs toward me. “How are you and the girls?”

“Kara and Maisie are with Judy shopping and having lunch.” I rock a little faster as I stare across her lawn at the houses on the other side of the street. “I talked to Judy for a long time this morning. I feel it’s best that Kara stays with her for a while.” I stop rocking, letting the silence sit as I prepare my next words. I’m not sure what she will think of me for doing this. “It wasn’t an easy decision,” I continue softly, “but I think Judy can reach her in ways I can’t. Kara doesn’t seem to care what trouble she gets into with me. I’m scared of where that’ll lead if nothing changes.”

Sam’s hand reaches out, warm and steady, guiding my gaze back to her. “I’m sorry, Allie. That couldn’t have been easy. You’ve done everything you can. It’s not your fault she’s acting out.” Her eyes search mine. “Is Maisie going too?”

“No.” I shake my head. “I would never allow that. She’s staying with me. Judy will get Maisie here and there, so the girls have time together.”

“That’s good,” Sam says gently. She squeezes my arm comfortably. I pull away, lacing my fingers in my lap instead.

“I’ve been thinking about you and me,” I say, glancing at her before looking back down.

“Me too,” she admits. “Last night was really nice. I think we need to talk about a few things.”

“Agreed.” I nod, maybe for a little too long, bracing myself for what’s next. “While last night was exactly what I needed, it shouldn’t have happened.”

“Why?” Sam crosses her arms over her chest defensively. “Because you aren’t ready for more with me?”

“Because I can’t handle more heartbreak,” I answer quietly. “Because I don’t think you know what or who you really want.”

Sam shifts in her rocker, the wood creaking under her. “That’s not true. I was scared.”

“Scared of what?” I ask, shaking my head, half disbelieving.

Sam rises, walks to the railing in front of me, and leans against it to face me directly. “Of you,” she says simply. “You’re incredible, Allie. Beautiful. Kind. Grounded. Why would you ever settle for me? I saw the way you hugged and smiled at the woman at the fair. The way she held your hand. You can have anyone you want. I didn’t want to get hurt.”

I stand slowly to meet her eyes. “That woman, who incidentally happens to be Ginger’s aunt, is a client who was overwhelmed with joy that we bought her house so quickly and easily. She has some family financial troubles. She hugged me out of gratitude, nothing more.” I let out a breath. “To assume just because I hugged another woman that I couldn’t be faithful or serious about you was shallow. I’ve had enough heartbreak lately. I didn’t need this added to it.”

Sam’s expression falters, her eyes dim as my words settle between us.

“You hurt me,” I say quietly as I turn to walk away.

Sam grabs my forearm, trying to pull me to a stop. “Please, wait. Let me explain.”

I look down at her hand before gently pulling my arm free. “You went on a date with another woman without a second thought to how I might feel. You didn’t have the decency to tell me that it was over, or that what we had meant nothing to you. Not even a text to say fuck off. That says plenty, Sam.” I continue to leave.

“Allie.” Her voice breaks on my name, the sound raw and desperate. When I turn, she’s covering her face, shoulders trembling. I want to go to her, to pull her close, but I can’t.

It takes a moment for her to recover. “I know you probably think I’m this asshole who slept with you just for the sex. But I’m not that person.” She drags her finger under her eyes, catching the tears before they fall. “Kara overheard me talking to Luke about you and the redhead from the fair. I’d like to think she didn’t mean any harm when she said you two had been dating. I should’ve come to you, made sure what Kara was telling me was true, but I didn’t. I’d already started falling for you. I couldn’t face the idea that you didn’t feel the same.” She pauses, breath trembling. “It wasn’t until that night at the restaurant with Ginger that she mentioned you helping with her aunt’s house, and how much Maisie loved it. I asked if her aunt was a redhead. When she said yes, I didn’t know what to think anymore. So, I asked Steven because I wasn’t sure you’d answer my call. I’m so sorry, Allie.”

I steady myself by gripping the porch post, the rough wood under my palm etching marks into my hand. Her words spin in my head, but even through the fog, I know what I need to do.

“Thank you for being honest,” I say finally. “The fact remains that you didn’t talk to me first. You avoided me for a week. And when I finally saw you again, it was with another woman.”

“I know,” she whispers, her voice breaking. “That wasn’t me. That’s not who I am. I regretted it the second I sat down across from her. You were all I could think about that night and every day since I met you. I want to make it right, Allie. I want to earn your trust back.” She swallows. Her next words come out in a whisper. “I’ve fallen for you.”

My heart pounds at her confession. Every part of me wants to close the distance between us, take her in my arms, and kiss her. To pretend the hurt never happened. I want to be with her more than she’ll ever know. But I feel so sad right now. “Sam,” I say softly, really not wanting to say the next words. “I wish things were different. I can offer you my friendship.”

Sam brings a shaky hand to cover her mouth as she begins to cry. She turns to the side to try to hide her tears. It takes her a few minutes to recover before speaking. “Friendship it is,” she says through broken words.

Screw it! I walk to her, pulling her into a tight hug. She clings to me, wrapping her arms around my neck, holding me close as her tears dampen my shoulder. We stay like this for a long, emotional moment. Two people holding on, even as they’re letting go. I press a gentle kiss to her temple before forcing myself to walk away.

By the time I slide into my car, the heaviness of the day finally crashes down on me. As I back out of her driveway and start the drive home, I call the one person who can help me right now.