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“I’m going to Ghana!”
He didn’t hide his shock, and I instantly felt a little guilty for not leading in with a ‘Hello, I love you. I’m going to Ghana!’
I’ll never forget the look on his face because it’s a look I’ve never seen before. He was angry. Sam NEVER gets angry. “What do you mean you’re going to Ghana?”
I explained my situation and almost fell off his lap when he responded with a, “You’re not going.”
I didn’t realize this was up for discussion, so of course I leaped out of his lap, not impressed in the slightest. We argued for the next hour, both stubborn and headstrong. He was being totally irrational, and I didn’t appreciate him standing in the way of my dreams. When I very loudly proceeded to tell him this, he got even angrier.
I was going whether he liked it or not, and I left his house, not intending to change my tune.
I came home sobbing harder than I’ve ever sobbed before. I was glad Mom and Dad were out to dinner with friends, as I didn’t want them seeing me this way.
I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to go, but I didn’t want to lose Sam over it. I didn’t understand why he was so angry at me leaving. His reasons were that it was dangerous, and he didn’t like me being away for so long. It was only eight weeks! This was such a good opportunity, and he was being incredibly selfish!
I pretty much listened to Fiona Apple on repeat, wallowing in my self-pity until there was a knock at my door. Raising my head, I saw Sam looking as bad as I felt. Our fight seemed completely petty, and I jumped up, forgetting I was mad at him.
He begged for my forgiveness, dropped to his knees, and interlaced his hands. “Lucy, I’m so sorry. I was a fucking idiot. I had no right to dictate your future. I just…”
When he paused, I dropped to my knees as well. I asked him what.
He peered into my eyes and confessed, “I thought I was your dreams. I’m afraid you’ll see what’s out there and forget about me. You’re beautiful, smart, ambitious—I’m petrified you’ll see the world and chase your dreams—dreams that don’t include me.”
Nothing has ever sounded so tragically beautiful before.
Before I could stop myself, I wrapped my arms around his nape and buried my face into his neck. His outburst made sense—he was afraid of losing me. For some stupid reason, he believed I was biding my time until something better came along. Didn’t he know he was my something better? He was the reason why I believed in myself. Without him, I was nothing.
“Sam, my dreams are nothing without you. My life started the day I met you in that library. I fell in love with the kind, considerate boy who had no qualms lending me his most treasured copy of ‘The Catcher in the Rye.’”
He lowers his eyes, tugging at his bottom lip.
“I will never forget you. I can’t.”
He finally looks at me and smiles. “I’ll never forget you either, Lucy. Ever. You’re a part of me, now and forever.”
* * * * *
“What do you mean?” Words get caught in my throat. “It-it’s me, Lucy. Your f-fiancée.” He has to remember who I am.
His bewildered expression reveals that he doesn’t have to do anything. “Fiancée? Is this some kind of joke?” He peers over my shoulder, cocking an eyebrow. “Sax, did you put her up to this?”
I can’t take it anymore.
My legs feel like jelly and I crumble, not caring that I’ll probably concuss myself in the process. However, before I can knock myself into oblivion, a pair of strong hands latch onto my upper arms. Samuel makes no secret that he’s watching mine and Saxon’s exchange with interest.
“How about we get some fresh air?” he suggests, his fingers tenderly punctuating his point by squeezing softly.
I nod because if I stay in this room for a second longer, I’m bound to suffocate. With my head bowed, I avoid the sorrowful stares of my family as Saxon leads me towards the door. We walk in silence down the hallway and into the elevator, his arm still wrapped around me.
The moment we step outside, I take a much needed deep breath, but still feel like a million hands are clutching at my throat, cutting off my air supply.
So many thoughts are pinballing around in my head, but one stands out clearer than any other.Samuel doesn’t remember me.When he looked at me, his eyes were utterly void. There was no love, or affection, or recognition—there was nothing.
I turn into Saxon’s chest, needing his comfort more than I’ve ever needed anyone’s before. I don’t cry. I simply stand numb.
“It’ll be okay.”
I appreciate Saxon’s reassurance, but I don’t believe a word. This situation is so far from being okay, I’m pretty sure it’s bordering on being the worst thing that has ever happened to me.
