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I nod and look back at him one more time before walking out of his treatment room. I hate leaving him here by himself, but he seems uncomfortable having Sam around. I guess he doesn’t like looking weak, which is understandable. It doesn’t help that Sam keeps treating Dad like he’s one of his patients.
I walk into the bedroom that I’ve shared with Sam for the last week and a half and sigh. Sam smiles at me and pulls me closer. “Hey, we should just get an early night,” he murmurs, leaning in. I stiffen when he tries to kiss me and pull away from him.
Sam frowns. “What’s going on, Emilia? I get that you’re worried about your dad, but you won’t even kiss me. You haven’t even properly kissed me back once since I got here. We haven’t seen each other in weeks. Haven’t you missed me? Bloody hell, I’ve been dreaming about being in bed with you. Haven’t you?”
I’m filled with dread at the mere thought of it. I bite down on my lip and look away guiltily. “This is all just so strange to me,” I admit. “Seeing my dad lose more and more of his spirit every single day is killing me, and being in someone else’s house isn’t exactly helping. So no, I haven’t been dreaming about that.”
Sam looks at me angrily. “It’s Carter, isn’t it? I can’t even bloody blame you, because he’s Carter Clarke. The man is filthy rich, he’s handsome and quite a bit more muscular than I am, and he takes amazing care of your dad. Bloody hell, even I’d be in love with him.”
He runs a hand through his hair and looks away. “Just tell me that you’re mine, Emilia. Lie to me if you must, but tell me that you’re still mine. Tell me that you’re coming home with me when your dad recovers, and that whatever is going on here will stay here.”
I look at him with wide eyes. “What?” I whisper.
Sam grimaces, and I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look this hurt. “I see the way you look at him, Emilia. You’ve never looked at me that way before. I see the way you two interact as though you can tell what the other is thinking, and you and I have never had that. It’s obvious that even your dad likes him better, and I can’t even fault him for it. I’m trying my best to help with his treatment, but that’s nothing compared to everything Carter has done for him.”
I shake my head and wrap my arms around his neck. “No, Sam. That just isn’t true,” I whisper, willing myself to believe it too.
“Isn’t it?” he murmurs. “Emilia, I saw you superglue a whoopee cushion to Carter’s dining room chair. I looked it up, just to be sure. Those chairs are two thousand dollars each. Carter just stood there and watched you do it, a smile on his face. What the hell is up with that? Since when do you play pranks like that? I’ve never seen you as giddy as you were while you were doing that. Not even once. You were so excited while you were destroying Carter’s property, and he let you. How can you tell me there isn’t anything going on? No sane man would ever let you do something as crazy as that — with a smile on his face. I don’t even recognize the person you are around Carter. You’re so different, and I hate it. Did you think I didn’t notice the inside jokes? The way you won’t even explain whatever the hell being outraged in Spanish even means?”
I stare at him wide-eyed. “I… I was just trying to get him back for a prank he pulled a little while ago. I’d gotten so busy with Dad that I forgot about it, but then I saw the bag from the toy store,” I ramble, trailing off.
Sam crosses his arms over each other and frowns. “What the hell are you even talking about? What could he possibly have done to warrant you destroying his property like that?”
I bite down on my lip and look away. “I… he… he’d changed the ringtone to my phone and then called me during a work meeting,” I murmur. It sounds stupid even to my own ears, and he’s right, I probably went too far with the prank I pulled in return.
“Are you crazy?” he shouts. “You did that because the guy changed your ringtone? What is wrong with you, Emilia? I don’t understand what has gotten into you. You weren’t this… crazy just a few months ago.”
He sighs and starts to pace. “You’re distant and you’re acting irrationally. It’s like I don’t even know you anymore. It’s like you came here, and you turned into an entirely different person. You usually hate cooking, but here you make your dad lunch every single day, and you’re usually so serious, yet now you’re suddenly playing pranks. Pranks. You say you can’t sleep with me because you’re too worried about your dad, but you’re not too worried to play a fucking childish joke. It’s ridiculous.”
Sam runs his hand through his hair angrily and looks at me, his eyes flashing with disappointment. “How the hell did Carter even get into your phone? I don’t even know your code.”
I bite down on my lip and sigh. “He guessed it.”
Sam chuckles. “He guessed it? So, a guy that you haven’t seen in years knows you better than I do? Well, that’s just brilliant.”
“I don’t know what you want me to say, Sam. Yes, he does know me well. We grew up together, after all. You’re telling me you hate who I am here, but what does that even mean, because for the first time in years I actually feel like myself.”
Sam sighs and shakes his head. “I’m just really confused. I don’t even know who you are anymore. I’m starting to wonder if the girl I fell for was ever even the real you at all.”
I’m starting to wonder the same thing. The girl that Sam loves, is that even the real me? Or is it just who I so desperately wanted to be?
Chapter 32
Emilia
Sam seems absentminded and hurt, and I hate that I did this to us. He’s barely spoken a word to me since our argument last night.
He’s right. I’ve become a different person here in Woodstock, and this isn’t what I wanted. I worked so hard to become the woman Sam is in love with, yet just a few weeks here in Woodstock have made me feel like a little girl all over again.
“How about I show you around town a little? We can do dinner tonight, if you fancy it? Just you and me,” I murmur.
Sam looks up at me, a spark of hope in his eyes, and my heart twists painfully. I’ve been neglecting him, I realize now. I’ve settled in so well in my life and my routine here that I haven’t paid him enough attention.
“That sounds brilliant,” he says, smiling. He walks up to me and cups my cheek gently, his lips brushing against my forehead. He kisses me so sweetly that my heart feels crushed. I feel so bad for not paying more attention to him, for not putting him first while he’s here.
“Come on,” I say, “let’s go.”
He grabs my hand and entwines our fingers as we make our way down the stairs, and I find myself tensing. Carter’s words ring through my mind, and a shiver runs down my spine. I don’t want him to ever have the honor of falling asleep with you. I don’t even want you smiling at him.
