Page 133 of Allegiant

“No. It’s because I love you.”

I feel my shoulders slump slightly at that statement, and I inhale shakily. “Was it because I met with Adi? Is that why you’re here?”

When I peer up at him, he gives me a clipped nod. “I don’t trust her. Probably won’t ever trust her, but she seems more…settled. I just wanted to make sure you were safe. I promise that’s all this is.”

“Well, I am safe. See? Are you happy now?”

He gives me another nod, his hands flexing by his sides. “I’ll be happier if you let me walk you to your car. Then I’ll leave you alone.”

I’m too emotionally exhausted to refuse, so I turn on my heel, and we walk in silence to the parking lot. He opens the door for me, just like old times, and I find my heart fluttering at the sentiment.

I can’t help it.

I slide behind the wheel, pushing the button for the ignition. It softly purrs to life, and I realize Samson is still lingering at the open door.

“You can close it now,” I say, my eyes meeting his.

His lips turn down, hurt moving across his face, but he nods, and the door closes softly. It leaves me sitting here, idling in my car, and the only sound I hear is my breathing.

I glance over at him and see him walking away, and something aches deep inside of me. I miss him.

Should I take him back? What if that leads to more pain? What if he lies again? What if I let them all in just to have my heart shattered again?

I lean my head against the steering wheel, wishing desperately that I knew what the answers were.

Samson’s always around, always in my periphery. The next forty-eight hours before the show are hard. I keep myself busy, rehearsing, working out, chatting with friends. But then I see him, lingering in the shadows, watching me. Never engaging, just there.

I get that he wants to protect me, but right now I’m fraying at the seams. I feel vulnerable and weak.

Last night was the hardest. I found him against my front door, legs spread out, head lolling to the side as he slept. He woke as I stepped over him. I felt his eyes, hooded and dark, watching as I disappeared into my apartment. The fact that he was so close, so near, pulled and tugged at my heart.

God, why is this so hard?

I got a blanket and walked it outside, handing it to him, telling myself I’d do this for anyone.

It meant nothing.

I slept terribly, wishing he’d break into my apartment like he did on the anniversary of Adam’s death and hold me, but he didn’t. He stayed away, protecting me but nothing else.

I hate how much I miss it.

The next morning when I woke and found him still there, something inside of me broke a little more. So I brewed a pot of coffee and brought him a cup. Our hands brushed for a moment as he accepted it, and I felt a flutter in my chest. I’m not forgiving him, but I can’t be mean. I just can’t. I tried, and it doesn’t work.

It’s not me. Especially not where Samson’s concerned.

It didn’t help that he returned the gesture by ordering me breakfast from one of my favorite places in town. It made my stomach grumble in approval when I saw the logo on the bag he was holding. I accepted it. Of course I did. I’m a great baker, but a terrible cook.

The way his eyes lit up with hope when I took it from his hand had my insides clenching in grief.

I don’t know how much longer I can keep up this facade. I don’t even think I’m angry anymore.

I’m just sad.

And like Larry said last night when I went over to make sure he was eating and wearing clean clothes, if I can forgive Adi, surely I can forgive Samson.

“At least he didn’t try to kill you.”

“I mean, he did.”