Page 69 of One Last Gift

She put the letter down next to her, on the other side of Sam, away from them both. “I can’t, Sam.”

“Can’t or won’t?” Although his voice was calm, there was a subtle bite to it.

She frowned. “Why are you pushing this?” It wasn’t right—he should understand where she was coming from, surely. He kept saying how he got it, how he missed Tom too—well then, he shouldn’t be trying to make her do it when she wasn’t ready.

“Because you can’t be scared of everything all the time, Cassie!” He threw a hand into the air as he said it, and she jerked away. It wasn’t what she’d been expecting, and hurt lanced through her.

And before she could stop herself, she was snapping back. “Me? I’m not the only one who’s scared, Sam.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

She made a scathing face, falling back into old patterns even as a part of her hated herself for it. “You don’t want me to let fear rule me, but look at you—you’re scared of ending up like your dad, but at the same time you’re scared of making a proper commitment, just like him. You left Jessica at the altar because you were so scared to go through with it, didn’t you?” She bit the words out, then, because that wasn’t enough, got to her feet, paced a few steps away from him.

“It wasn’t right, Cassie. Me and Jessica, it wasn’t right.” His voice was weirdly calm now, and she turned to him, folding her arms.

“Have you even spoken to her since?”

A pause. “Well, not really.”

“Right.” Why should that make her feel worse? Only that, if he’d talked to her, figured it all out, this would feel less like an illicit weekend and more like it could actually have meant something. “Well, then, don’t talk to me about being brave, Sam, because it’s just hypocritical.”

Sam got to his feet too now, and she could see the rigidity in his body. The sky above was darker still, and Cassie felt the first few droplets of rain fall onto her face. He took a step toward her, his jaw tight, so that she had to tilt her chin up to look at him. “Fine,” he bit out. “Maybe you’re right. But at least I’m brave enough to do one thing—at least I’m brave enough to admit what’s going on here, like you don’t seem to want to.”

Something shot straight to Cassie’s gut and she stumbled backward a step, shaking her head.

“Yes, Cassie. At least I’m brave enough to tell you that I love—”

“No, don’t,” she said, her voice high, almost unrecognizable as her own. She backed away another step, wrapped her arms around herself. “That’s not fair, that’s not…” Her breathing was coming quicker now, even as she told herself to calm the bloody hell down. But it was too much. She didn’t want to hear it. She didn’t want to let herself go there, couldn’t bear the fallout if it didn’t work out, couldn’t hear it or say it, because it would open her up, leave her vulnerable when she was still only just piecing herself back together. She’d vowed not to give Sam her heart again, hadn’t she? And she was damn well going to stick to that.

“No,” she repeated. “I…” This time, her headshake was frantic. “I can’t do this. Not again.” She couldn’t give her heart to him, couldn’t open herself up to really love him, because it would give him the power to break her. And she knew she couldn’t break anymore, not after Tom.

“What do you mean, again?”

She made a noise that was part sob, part incredulous laugh. “We’ve been here before, Sam! I told you, five years ago, how I felt and you…” But she couldn’t finish, so she turned on her heel instead.

He grabbed her arm, stopped her, even as she threw off his hand. “That was different,” he said firmly.

“Oh really?” she spat back at him. “Why?”

He frowned. “Because back then, we were—”

She raised her eyebrows scathingly. “What? Kids? I knew how I felt then, Sam. And you knew it too. You knew it, and then you thought of the most hurtful way to tell me to get over it, to prove some kind of point.” Tears sprang to her eyes too quickly, the hurt of that time coming back to her, even after all these years.

He was staring at her. Was it her, or had his face gone slightly paler? “I didn’t want to hurt you,” he said, his voice hoarse.

“Well, you did.”

“No, I…” He took a breath, his shoulders heaving with the effort. “I mean, I knew I’d end up hurting you in the long run, if we went down that road. I knew I’d fuck it up. And I couldn’t bear it—to lose you when that happened.”

“To lose Tom,” she said, and it came out as a half-sob.

He nodded, took a step toward her. This time, she didn’t back away. “Yeah, to lose Tom. But you too, Cass. I felt so much for you, even then. I felt too much, and I didn’t know what to do with that. I thought I was doing the right thing—thought it would be better for both of us, to end it before I made things worse.”

“And what, you thought it was OK to just unilaterally decide that? You could have talked to me about it, Sam! And instead you…” She closed her eyes, shook her head. “That’s not the point.” She was getting distracted with memories of the past. She’d put that aside, moved on. She didn’t want to circle back to it now.

She felt the touch of his hand on her cheek, opened her eyes to see him standing there, so close. “I loved you then, Cassie. I think I always have.”

Her throat closed on that, and her heart—her damn betraying heart—felt like it was swelling, beating more deeply, the rhythm of it lighting up her whole body. But that was why she couldn’t go there. Because if she did, and if it didn’t work out—if he hurt her again—then how would her heart survive it?