Page 72 of Maid of Dishonor

“No, look, Sam. Look.” He closes the distance between us in one large step, grabbing both of my hands and cradling them in his own. He sounds nothing short of desperate as he goes on,“I think—I think there’s a place inside my soul where you’re supposed to live, Sam, and when you’re not there, I’m just—I’m just broken. I’m empty without you. I’ll take whatever you can give me. Whatever you offer, I’ll take it and be glad. One hour a week or five minutes a month or even less—I’ll take it. Just please”—his voice cracks, but he doesn’t stop—“please don’t walk away.”

I eye him curiously. Can he hear himself? Doesn’t he realize how heartsick he sounds? “Uh-huh,” I say slowly, a ridiculous, far-fetched thought popping into my mind.

He reallydoeshave feelings for me. He wants me. His behavior goes past friendship, doesn’t it?

But no. There’s no way.

Right?

“So we’d still be neighbors and hang out every day?” I say, tilting my head as I look at him.

“Yes,” he says, sounding relieved. “Absolutely. I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

I nod slowly, my theory pinging around in my head. Maybe…maybe I should test this.

“And my husband?” I say slowly.

He blinks, his hands tightening around mine. “Your—what?”

“My husband,” I say, shrugging. “I’ll get married someday, of course. So he’ll be your neighbor too. He’ll be free to hang out with us?”

“Your husband,” he says faintly, his eyes darting away from mine as though picturing the future I’m painting. “Yeah,” he says finally. He clears his throat, looking back at me. “Yeah. Of course he will.”

“Mm-hmm,” I say. I pull my hands gently from his, folding my arms over my chest. “And my kids?” I say. “They’ll have my smile and my husband’s eyes—I’m thinking he might have green eyes,” I add conversationally. “I like green eyes.” Such a lie.

Carter’s vivid blue stare meets my own, the color calling my bluff, but I go on. “You’ll be okay with living next door to them? Oh,” I say, brightening as though I’ve just had a great idea, “you can babysit them while my husband and I have date night!”

Carter’s jaw clenches and unclenches as he watches me in silence, his lips pressed flat in a tense line. Still, he has no response.

I nod as conflicting emotions wash over me—frustration and relief and hope. “I thought so. You don’t like the thought of me with someone else, Carter. What you’re feeling right now?” I say, pointing at his chest. “That’s jealousy. It’s like I said: you don’t know what you want.” I sigh, tears stinging the corners of my eyes. “Give me some space, all right? Please.”

When Carter doesn't speak, doesn’t move, I sigh again. I place my hands on his shoulders and gently steer him out of the apartment, giving him a sad little wave and then closing the door essentially in his face.

I all but collapse against the door as soon as it’s closed, my chest heaving as I pull in air. I jump at the sound of a muffled curse and a loudthud—it sounds like Carter has punched something out there, probably the wall.

I sink to the floor, bury my face in my knees, and let the tears overtake me.

Twenty

Carter

I should leave.I should go home and reconsider all of the life choices that have led me to this point: begging desperately, like a dog, and then punching a brick wall when the begging doesn’t work. I should go drown my sorrows in who knows what—a plate of hot wings, maybe. Because there are sorrows to drown, and I feel like the dumbest person alive.

For hurting Sam. For falling for her in the first place. What kind of person stands facing a storm and thinks they’ll stay dry even if they don’t go inside? How could I have noticed myself falling for her and not done anything to stop it? Iknowmyself. Iknewthat if I took so much as a step toward her, I would fall hard and fast and immediately. I was asking for this.

There are more feelings churning inside me than I know what to do with. Frankly, I didn’t even know I was capable of this many emotions. I feel faintly guilty for some reason. Sick to my stomach at the thought of babysitting for her and some future husband. Hopeless and panicked.

And yet…I can’t deny that I’m also feeling ecstatic and hopeful at the knowledge that Sam has feelings for me.Romanticfeelings.

What am I supposed to do with all these emotions? Do people actuallylivelike this? It’s horrible. Is this why Sam cries so much? I don’t blame her. This is too much.

I should go home and go to bed. That’s what a smart man would do.

But I am not a smart man. I am apparently a glutton for pain. So I trudge around the front of the house and knock on Wini’s front door.

I’m not sure what brings me here. It’s not like I expect Wini to be sympathetic. I don’t even know what I’m going to say to her. I just know that I don’t want to go home yet.

I don’t want to be alone yet.

---