34. Sam

SAM

Watching Annie try new food is one of my favorite things in the world. Most people I know eat mainly because they have to, because we need to eat in order to survive. But Annie? She seems to savor each bite. It's like watching a kid see snow for the first time when she's eating good food.

It's simply magical. I hadn't exactly forgotten that, but I've been hyper-aware of it since we've been here in Maui.

I also am aware that watching someone else eat is a bit weird, so I look out the dark window instead.

"I realized something about my mom tonight," she says and I turn back to her as she puts another chip in her mouth.

"Oh yeah?" I ask, curious to see what she's learned about her mom.

Annie nods. "I realized that I'll never be like her. She continues to date men, one after the other and she always has. I always avoided relationships because I was so worried I'd be like her. But I'm not like her, because she hates being alone."

I nod, not quite understanding where she is going with this.

"Ever since Dad left, I don't think she's been single for more than a week. And Dad left when I was six. That's twenty-two years of horrible relationships all because she doesn't love herself. But I'm not that way. I'm comfortable in my skin—mostly anyway—I'm learning to love myself again and let myself be loved." She looks up at me as she says these words and I reach across the table and take her hand in mine.

"I've still got a lot to work through, but I'm not my mom," she says and then she grins. "So maybe the marriage thing will work out for us. If we can move slowly."

"I hope so," I tell her. I could have told her a long time ago that she's nothing like the woman who raised her. That she's kind and gentle and loving in a way her mother never will be. "And we can move as slow as you need."

"Thanks, and I hope so too."

"Call me if you need anything tonight." I don't want to leave. Now that we've agreed to be whatever this is—dating and already married—I don't want to leave her side, especially after the conversation we just had about her mom and what she realized. But I already promised I'd stay with Noah tonight. Plus, he doesn't know about us yet.

"I'll be fine," Annie promises, but her voice is tight, like it always is after she spends any time with her mom. "I've got a book." I glance at the nightstand and see her worn copy of Emma sitting there.

"I should have brought my copy," I say.

She laughs, a sound that eases some of the anxiety I feel about leaving her alone tonight.

"What is it about you and that book?" she asks.

"I could ask you the same thing," I shoot back and look at her. Her eyes have that familiar gleam in them, the one that always means that teasing is coming.

"You really have liked me for so long," she says, her voice soft and in quiet awe—like she's finally just letting this realization sink in.

I take a step toward her and sit in the empty chair as she eats her nachos.

"You have no idea," I tell her. I"ve told her the truth, for the most part, but it's still terrifying to have my confession out in the open.

There's a moment of silence. "Thanks for the food," Annie says. "I really was starving. They didn't give us any food to eat at the spa, saying something about how we need to watch what we eat right before the wedding. What a load of garbage. People need to eat."

"I mean, to be fair, you did have a little food before you went to the spa."

She swats her hand at me. "A granola bar does not count as dinner."

I see the pale pink of her nails. "You got your nails done."

Annie closes her fist and puts her hands under the table. "I don't think they"ve had any sort of polish or gel on them since I was in high school."

"They look nice," I say. She has always been self-conscious of her hands. She said she couldn't ever paint her nails because she had too many freckles and adding another color would just draw more attention. I can't remember now if she told me that before or after she dated Mitch, but it must have been after, when she started to lose her sparkle. When she dimmed herself because for some reason she thinks a dimmed version of herself is better than just being her. I want to show her how much I love her, her whole self. That she can do anything she wants and I'll always love her.

"Just call if you need anything," I say again.

"I will." She smiles at me. It's soft and sweet and I just want to melt in it. But I also know that if I kiss her now, I won't want to stop. So I stay where I'm standing across the table.

"Well, I should get back. Noah said we're going to watch a movie or something before bed and I told him I wouldn't be long."

"Have fun," Annie says. "And really, thanks for the food."

"Anytime," I answer. She stands and wraps her arms around me. "I'm really glad you're here."

An ache that's been in my body since Annie left New York disappears as I wrap my arms around her and hold her against me. Like I've been holding onto it, waiting for her to run, but instead she's coming to me. I never want to move.

But slowly, I let her go and step back. "I'll see you in the morning, unless you need anything."

"I'll see you tomorrow Sam." She squeezes my hand and follows me to the door.

I want to say more, but I don't. Instead I leave and head down the hall to her brother's room.

The new action movie ends and Noah falls asleep almost immediately after the lights go out. I flip my phone over and over in my hand, waiting for a text from Annie, but in my gut I know that she's not going to text me. She doesn"t ever want to seem weak, because her mom would say something about it. She always acts so strong, even when she doesn't have to.

But I still want her to need me. I feel like she needs me tonight, but I don't want to seem protective and overbearing, so I'll wait for her to need me. As if reading my mind, a text comes through and my phone vibrates.

Annie

Help

The one word has me up in a split second. I'm pulling on a T-shirt and sprinting down the hall before I realize I'm not wearing any shoes. But it doesn"t matter. I scramble out a text to Noah, telling him Annie needed something—at least that's what I hope I sent—before I use the key to her room to enter.

I find her curled up in the middle of the bed, her arms are wrapped tightly around her legs and she's got that hollow stare she had when I found her in the shower, fully clothed, all those months ago.

My heart seems to stop and time slows. What happened to make her this way this time? Last time, she didn't talk for hours after I got her changed and into bed. But that time she'd seen Mitch. The TV is still playing quietly on the dresser, like it was when I brought her food. The food has been cleaned up and her hair is ruffled like it is after she sleeps.

I move to her, my arms coming around her and she shudders.

"You came." Her words are barely a whisper.

"Of course," I breathe back.

Then, she falls apart and I hold her while she cries.

It might be minutes or hours later when Annie shifts in my lap to look up at me. Her eyes are red and exhausted.

"Hi," I say, it's becoming a thing between us—greeting each other while we're already together—and I like it.

"Hi," Annie says.

"You okay?" I ask, even though it feels like a stupid question to pose because obviously she isn't doing okay.

"Better now," she says softly. I want so badly to ask her what's going on in her head but I don't want to push if she doesn"t want to talk. "I fell asleep and had a nightmare. I felt like I couldn't breathe when I woke up so I texted."

"I'm glad you texted." I give her a squeeze, pulling her closer to me. "Do you want to talk about your nightmare?"

She shakes her head.

"Okay."

"I mean…" Annie sighs. "I want to, but it isn't your burden to carry. I don't want to put all of this on you, Sam."

Her voice isn't full of its usual confidence. She sounds timid, worried about what I might say or do if she dumps this on me. But it wouldn't be dumping. I'll happily carry this for her.

"You can tell me."

She is quiet for a long moment. "It's always the same dream. I'm always somewhere with Mom and then Mitch appears and they both start talking. At first to each other and then to me. It's not bad at first, some comments that sting a little like how they don't like my dress or hair or something, but then it gets worse."

She closes her eyes and I reach over and lace her fingers through mine, letting her know that I'm here once she's ready to tell me more.

"Then all I can hear is Mitch yelling the vile things he used to say all the time and Mom is cheering him on, like she's proud of him. It makes me sick every time. I know she probably wouldn't do that in real life, but the way her words make me feel sometimes are the same feelings I get after these dreams, nightmares. Whatever."

"Have you talked to someone about this?" I know she mentioned a therapist, but I don't know how any of that works beyond what she's told me.

She shakes her head. "They don't happen often enough for me to feel like I should talk about them." There she goes again, trying not to burden others and keep all her pain to herself.

"But they happen," I say gently. "I am happy to listen, but I'm not a therapist and can't give you the tools you need to work through this. Will you talk to your therapist about this when we get home?"

She nods against my chest and I think she's started to cry again.

"What can I do?" I ask, feeling helpless. I wish there was more I could help her with. I wish I could take away every bad feeling and thought she's having right now.

"Stay with me," Annie says softly. As if I was ever going to leave.

"Of course." I pull us against the pillows and wrap the comforter around us. A tiny cocoon just for the two of us.

Eventually, her breathing slows and she relaxes in my arms. Only then am I able to also fall asleep.