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“Fuck you, you asshole! You’re just jealous that Mom likes me better than you.” Sam shoves at Saxon’s chest, but thanks to his drunken state, he almost falls on his ass.
I run down the stairs, sensing a fight about to erupt. “Stop!” My demand is ignored.
Saxon snickers. “Jealous? Please. I like that my balls aren’t rolling around in her purse.”
Samuel’s eyes narrow and he attempts to lunge at Saxon once again. He’s too fast however, and Samuel ends up tripping over and falling face first.
Saxon laughs, crossing his arms over his chest. “Maybe Mommy can help you up.”
“Stop it! Both of you!” I attempt to help Sam up, but he shrugs me off and stands on his own.
He’s still unsteady on his feet, but his anger appears to have sobered him up some. “Fuck you both.”
“Sam,” I gasp, not understanding his constant anger towards me. “Stop being such a fucking jerk!” I’m seconds away from bellowing out in rage, but keep my cool.
“I’ll be sleeping in the barn,” he declares, staggering towards it.
“What? Why?” I chase after him, demanding answers.
All I get is indifference. “Because the farm animals don’t talk back.” He storms off.
I stop chasing someone who doesn’t want to be caught. “You know what, fine, go! Screw you!” My temper finally boils over.
I feel Saxon at my back moments later. I shouldn’t be upset at him, but I am. “Lucy…”
“No, don’t.” I spin around, glaring at him. “Thanks for making a messed up situation even worse.”
“How am I the bad guy?” he rebukes heatedly, but he tersely backs down. “I’m sorry, all right?”
“Save your apologies, Saxon. I’m not the one who needs to hear them.” My anger is misdirected, but he’s the only one here. He’s the only one who can handle it. “Samuel needs you right now. How about you stop being such an asshole and be the big brother he needs?”
“He needs a good slap in the face. How can you defend him right now?” He runs his fingers through his hair, pulling at the roots.
“Because that’s not Sam!” I reply, feeling like a broken record. “He needs us to support him. To show him who he is. And you being a sarcastic jerk is not helping. I can’t give up on him because he’s never given up on me!”
He huffs, his chest expanding. This fight is one I feel has only just begun.
“I’m going to bed. Goodnight.” I push past him, a swirl of emotions rattling inside my head. I’m thankful when he doesn’t follow, as I need time to digest what just went down.
As I stomp down the hallway, I’m saddened that the happiness and laughs that once reflected off these walls are now replaced with anger and tears. My happy place has just turned to shit.
Closing the door behind me, I crawl onto the duvet and tuck myself into a ball as I lay on my side. Things were going well this morning and I thought that maybe the old Sam was slowly reemerging—but it was premature.
I refuse to believe Saxon. This new Sam is not my fiancé. I know Sam, and he would never speak to me the way he has. I’m trying to put myself in his shoes, endeavoring to understand how frustrating and scary it must be for him to only remember pieces of who he was.
Anyone looking in would probably think I’m a fool for staying with Sam after the way he’s treated me, but love, it isn’t easy. What kind of a person would that make me, what would it say about my character and my love for Sam, if I deserted him when he needed me the most?
Love hurts.
Reaching out, I search the nightstand blindly, retrieving the journal from the top of the pile. I need these memories to help me remember. But most importantly, I need these memories to make me forget.
* * * * *
February 14th 2005
Dear diary,
I feel stupid.
