Page 80 of The Love You Fight For
“Have you been sleeping? Have you been eating?”
She doesn’t answer. She won’t make eye contact. A muscle in her jaw pops as she grinds her teeth.
“What the fuck are they doing to you up there?” My voice shakes from the restrained anger and worry. “You’re wasting away. Is it drugs? Are you?—”
“I’m not on fucking drugs,” she snaps, finally looking at me. “Christ, just leave me alone. I am not your concern!”
“You are my concern.”
“I’m not!”
“Youare, Sam. You are my concern because I’ve made you my concern.”
“Why?” she shouts, eyes welling with tears. “Why, Chris? I don’t need you. I don’t need you worrying about me. Stop. Just stop.”
“I can’t,” I shout back. “I can’t. Icaretoo much to just stop. I care about you, Sam. You’re going to have to fucking accept it because I’m not going anywhere, and I know you care about me, too.”
She closes her eyes and shakes her head quickly. I know she’s fighting like hell to keep the tears from falling.
“I don’t,” she says shakily. “I don’t care about you. I don’t.”
“Another lie,” I murmur, then reach up and hook my finger in the collar of her pajama top, tugging it open just enough to reveal what I hoped I would find.
She’s wearing the necklace I gave her before she left me at the lake.
The chain is cheap and thin, and the small brass compass is tarnished, but it shines like gold against her skin. It looks like she’s polished it or had it cleaned since I dropped the velvet bag in her lap and she drove off without me.
My grandmother gave this necklace to me when I was a kid because I loved my grandfather’s compass so much. I wore it every day for years until the clasp broke, and once I got it fixed, I kept it safe in that little velvet bag. It’s been in my truck with me since I wassixteen, and seeing it around Sam’s neck fills me with more emotions than I can identify.
I put my index finger under her chin and tilt her head up so I can look into her face. Her eyes stay clamped shut with silent tears sliding down her cheeks.
“Look at me,” I say, and she shakes her head. “Look at me, princess. Please.”
When she finally does, hitting me with red-rimmed eyes glistening with tears, it’s like a knife to the stomach. She looks lost. She looks scared. She’s hurting, and all I want to do is fix it.
“Stop lying to me. Talk to me. Let me help.”
Her face crumples, then, and she starts to sob outright. I pull her body against mine and hold her. I walk us backward until I can sit on the couch and pull Sam into my lap and cradle her against my chest. I rub my hand in soothing circles on her back and press soft kisses into her hair. She smells like floral shampoo and bodywash, and I want to breathe her in.
“Talk to me, baby, please. Please, just talk to me.”
She buries her face in my shirt and shakes her head.
“I can’t,” she whispers. “I can’t. I want to, but I can’t.”
It’s not what I want to hear, but it’s something. It’s an admission. It’s a crack in her armor. She’s letting me in.
“But somethingisgoing on, though?”
She hesitates briefly, and then she nods.
“Are you in danger? Are you being hurt?” I ask quickly, and her body tenses right before she shakes her head. “That’s a lie, Sam.”
She presses her face against my neck and inhales and exhales deeply before speaking.
“Thereissomething going on, but I can’t talk about it. It’s...precarious...and I can’t take risks. I’m not in any real danger, but I’m drained. I’m not sleeping well because I’m stressed, and I’m trying so fucking hard to just make it to the end, but I’m exhausted. I just...God, I just need a respite. A moment of peace. I need a breather. I need to recharge before I have to dive back in headfirst.”
My heart fucking breaks at the pain in her voice and the wayshe’s trying to push through it. My strong, courageous, warrior princess. She’s so accustomed to fighting alone.
