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“It’s a beautiful home,” Trisha said. “There were three offers.”
“I couldn’t have done it without you, Sammy.” Phil wrapped his arm around her, kissing the top of her head.
Sam suddenly had trouble breathing and pressed her hand to her chest. “Does Gavin know? Mom?”
“Yeah, of course. Gav’s at Ava’s, but he texted your mom earlier to tell her. I don’t know—what’s wrong? Are you crying?”
“I’m fine. I’m fine,” Sam said, brushing her father’s hand away. “It’s a little sad.” She swiped under her eyes. “But I’m happy for you, though, Dad.”
“You should be happy for you too,” he said. “We’re getting a great price on it, and I thought I could give you and Gav some money. You’re going to need it, a little nest egg for yourself.”
“That’s…” Sam hiccupped in a ragged breath. “That’s really nice, Dad. Thank you.”
“Are you sure you’re okay?”
“I’m fine. Jet-lagged, that’s all. And maybe a little PMS-y.”
Trisha smiled kindly at Sam. “Understandable. Phil, come on and sit. Let your daughter relax.” Then she winked at Sam like they had some kind of understanding. “Right?”
This was the second time they’d met, and Sam didn’t know her from the cashier at the grocery store, but obviously, something was going on between Trisha and her dad. Theplease like mestepparent vibes were undeniable.
And she didn’t want to deal with that shit right now. “Yeah, right,” she said, spinning on her heel. “I’m going to shower.”
Sam dragged her suitcase upstairs and hopped in the shower with the water as hot as she could stand it. She stood under the spray until her skin reddened and the steam was so thick it was hard to breathe, before getting out to wrap a towel around her body. She could feel herself starting to unravel, to lose control of her life, and the anxiety that she’d learned to control long ago was creeping out from her chest, clawing up her neck, settling into her brain, muddling her thoughts with negativity.
With her stomach roiling, she was tempted to skip dinner and throw the covers over her head, but as she swiped her hand over the fogged-up mirror, revealing the reflection of her blotchy face, she knew how to solve this. She couldn’t and wouldn’t give in to her worst instincts.
After dragging a brush through her hair, she slipped into her comfiest clothes and emptied her suitcase into the laundry basket. Over dinner, she mentally prepared a list of what she needed to do. Collect all her things, which weren’t many, and make sure she could move in to her apartment two weeks early, then figure out a drive plan.
With the house officially sold, her father doing well, her brother off to school soon, and her mother getting ready to begin a new school year, there was no reason for her to wait around until the end of the month. She would leave for Austin as soon as possible. Maybe even tomorrow if she could swing it.
There was nothing to keep her home any longer.
She could start the next chapter of her life, pretend this summer never happened. She could forget how she’d lost herself in someone else and bury the pain of her silly unrequited love. She would go on as she had always planned, alone but safe in the knowledge that no one could hurt her unless she allowed them to.
It was her own fault that she allowed Mike to hurt her. And in order to fix it, she’d simply pack up and move on. Slap on a Band-Aid and call it a day.
* * *
Samantha hadn’t respondedto any of Mike’s texts. It’d been three days since they’d arrived home, when she had slipped out of his car without so much as a goodbye. So, it was more than a little shocking when his little brother casually strolled downstairs.
“What are you doing?”
“Trying to sign up for a class on virtual coaching. It’s on discount if I sign up before tomorrow.”
“I figured you’d be helping Sam.” When Mike raised his eyebrow, Jimmy pointed to the stairs. “With packing up her car.”
Mike jerked up from his bed, where he’d been working on his laptop. “Huh?”
“She texted me and told me she was leaving today.” Jimmy held up his phone screen as evidence. “I came to say goodbye.”
He shook his head to clear his racing thoughts. “She what?”
“I came to say goodbye. She’s packing up her car right now. I thought you’d be out there with her. Why aren’t you?”
Without thinking or answering, he stepped into his prosthesis and brushed past his brother upstairs. He opened the front screen door with so much force, it hit the doorframe, but he didn’t care or stop. “Samantha!”
She briefly paused, in the middle of loading a laundry basket full of what looked like folded clothes and bottles of laundry detergent and other random cleaning supplies into her trunk.
