Chapter 32

Lainey

I cringed when Sam’s last message illuminated my phone. He’d sent a picture of his porch. Sun shining, his feet just edging into the bottom of the screen. It physically hurt to look at it.

A lot of things hurt these days.

I’d told Sam I was leaving to protect myself, because I couldn’t go through it all again: losing my partner, my friends, and my job.

A horrible joke, seeing as I lost Sam, nearly all of my friends were related to him, and my job prospects were hanging on by a thread.

True to his slimy word, Sturmond had directed the PR people to book me for any media event they wanted. Apparently, I’d graciously agreed to continue on the media tour, acting as the spokesperson for the new program Cedar and my mother’s foundation were collaborating on. The initial campaign had been such a rousing success, both organizations had apparently decided that a long-term partnership was in everyone’s best interests.

I took every interview from my apartment, avoiding the hospital as much as possible. I didn’t have the strength to run into Sam, or Sturmond, or anyone else that might know about our relationship.

I was on the fence about telling Rija, too. I wasn’t sure how much she knew, or if telling her would alter her perception of me, just like it did with Sturmond. Lainey, a spoiled little brat who just used others to get where she needed to go. I couldn’t handle the disappointment or disgust on her face.

I’d been right before all this started up: mixing my personal and professional life was too messy.

After leaving Sam, my days took on a dull, repetitive haze. Wake up. Do my hair and makeup. Read through background documents for today’s interviews. Get through all that. Eat something…maybe. Then fall back into bed.

I didn’t even want to watch my trashy TV shows, not when they reminded me of sitting on Sam’s couch with a glass of wine, filling him in on the back story of each character while he chopped vegetables. I couldn’t bring myself to work on my LVAD research, which made me remember how Sam had gotten my patient in at Mercy and why she’d had to be referred there in the first place. I was bored and sad and alone.

It had been too easy, in hindsight, to get sucked back into friendships with other people. I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed that over the last few years. But now, living in limbo, waiting for my third and final interview at Cedar and avoiding the outside world as much as possible, the need for someone else was like an ache. It followed me constantly, and there wasn’t much I could do about it.

Tess was wrapped up in a huge, time-sensitive project at her company, and I’d been too much of a coward to text Jas. She was Sam’s sister-in-law and loyal to a fault. I couldn’t put her in the middle of all this, not when I knew she’d probably pick his side. I missed them both.

Most of all, though, I missed Sam. My white-hot rage had cooled with time. Now, whenever I thought of him, I was just sad. Bitter, too.

I hated how I questioned everything now. Had he always had his own agenda? Moved on his own timeline, all the while telling me I was the one in charge? Had he planned to expose us— me— all along, regardless of my reservations about us being together?

Late at night, I convinced myself that these worst-case scenarios might be true. Maybe I hadn’t known him as well as I thought. In the light of day, though, it was harder to convince myself he was a villain.

I missed the way he could make me laugh when I least expected it. How he listened to me. How he took me into account when he made plans. I missed the way he held me, like I was precious, but wouldn’t break. The endearments. All of it.

The more I thought about it, the more I regretted how I’d handled our argument.

I’d been upset—rightfully so—to find out that Sam had disclosed our relationship to my employer without my knowledge or permission. But now that I’d had some distance from the whole thing, I kind of understood why.

Sam was nothing if not considerate. Of course, he would do what he thought was best to create a fair environment for all the candidates. The paperwork was supposed to be confidential, if the notes on the forms HR had copied were anything to go off of. The only reason Gina had handed them over to me was because my name was on there, too.

Plus, I’d been so livid, I might have overstepped in our argument.

Sam was quiet, yes, but he was honest with me and everyone else around him. I’d accused him of not giving me enough, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized that he’d given me everything I asked for and more.

He’d taken it slow with me when I asked him to. Not only accepted me into his world, but softly introduced avenues to get to know his family and friends, as well: tacos with Jas and Conner, taking me to Molido, Conner’s birthday. I realized it was his way of showing me how little I had to fear. He was putting all of himself on the table for me to see—his life, his family, his past. He offered it all up freely.

Was he right? Was I the one who had held too much back from him? The last few weeks had felt like a whirlwind to me, one compromise or surrender after another. But maybe it had felt like that because I was so woefully unused to sharing more than a single piece of myself with someone.

My parents got the award-winning, dutiful daughter. My colleagues got the dependable Doctor Carmichael. Before Sam, it had been a long time since I’d shared more than just scraps of who I was. Revealing the full picture felt raw and vulnerable.

But he’d been so wonderful about it all, taking everything I’d been willing to give him, even the ugly, selfish bits. Where that left me, I didn’t know. Sad, mad, guilty, unsure.

Existing in a vacuum wasn’t helping, either. Nearly a week after my fight with Sam, the most social interaction I’d had was with the DoorDash people and the perfectly coiffed reporters who conducted the Zoom interviews that filled my days once more.

Tess’s only free time was when she could escape her office for a class at R 3 . I wasn’t sure if I’d even be welcome there (just one more piece of my life shattered in the wake of my breakup with Sam).

She’d told me several times that Will kept asking about me, but I couldn’t risk it. On top of everything else, I couldn’t handle it if I walked into that place and felt their judgment weighing on me. Still, I was going insane sitting inside my apartment ruminating all alone.

So, on Sunday night, I crouched behind the wheel of my car, waiting for her class to get out while I obsessively tracked Sam’s location on my phone. He hadn’t rescinded his sharing permission. I knew he probably had just forgotten about it, and it was possibly creepy for me to continue to spend so much time stalking him now that I’d left. Tonight, at least, I had a good excuse. I had to make sure he stayed put at the hospital. If his dot so much as blinked in the gym’s direction, I’d hightail it outta here.

I was so focused on his pulsing blue circle, I missed the flash of copper outside my window. I jumped so high when June knocked on the glass, I nearly dropped the phone to the floorboard.

“You mind?”

“…Huh?” I rolled the window down, unsure if my leaping heart rate was because of the adrenaline from her sneak attack, or if it was because she was Sam’s mom.

“You mind giving me a hand? Fucking gravel weighs about fifty pounds. I’m no spring chicken anymore.” June nodded at the bags of pea gravel piled in the back of her Jeep.

“Ah. Um…” Was I so petty and antisocial that I was going to force this woman to carry twelve bags of gravel around by herself? Ugh. Manners were the worst. “Of course.”

“I’m helping Tiago with the garden next door. I got tickled with the idea of a little pathway.” She gestured to the gap she’d carved in the overgrown foliage behind R 3 and Molido’s. Now that it was pruned, I could see straight through to the little patio back there—the colorful umbrellas and lanterns swinging. Exotic looking flowers and fresh mulch marked June’s work.

“It’s beautiful.” Nothing like Sam’s courtyard, with the wild roses and perfumed jasmine. This was a tropical world all its own, with spicy scents and red and orange flowers I didn’t know the names of.

“Well, thank you, sweetie. That’s nice of you to say.”

I hefted a bag out of the trunk. “Just let me know where you want them.”

“You’re a lifesaver. Come dump them down by the deck.” I followed her through the foliage, ducking every once in a while to avoid a low-hanging limb. It was cooler in the shade, and quieter. The noise from the street in front of the gym and cafe was muffled here. A little oasis.

“Isn’t this nice? I like having a pathway here. The gym people can come straight over without sweating in the parking lot. Makes my heart happy to see my boys doing so well together. Two businesses, side-by-side.”

“You must be proud.” It didn’t escape my notice that she readily referred to Santiago as one of “her boys.” She beamed back at me.

“Of course I am. A heart surgeon and a handful of successful entrepreneurs? It’s a mother’s dream.”

“I told, ah, Sam as much once.” I nearly gulped his name back down my throat, but I forced it out. Even if it hurt.

“It’s nice that they’re stable, but I want them to be happy, too. Let’s set the next one a little further down.” She directed me back to the Jeep. We walked a few paces before she spoke again. “Sam’s always been the one I needed to watch, you know.”

“Oh?” I croaked. I didn’t know what June knew about me and Sam. Surely she wouldn’t be talking to me about him if she knew I’d ended things, right?

“So quiet, that one. Some people mistake it for weakness.”

“It’s not,” I supplied, softly. I’d made that mistake before, too, thinking just because he didn’t fill every silence that he was boring or lifeless. It couldn’t be further from the truth. June nodded in approval.

“Good, you recognize it. It’s not. He took on so much responsibility when the boys were growing up. Too much, I think. Maybe some of that was my fault. Put that one over in this corner and we’ll grab another one.”

“I’m sure you did your best.” It seemed like the right thing to say in the moment. I dumped the bag, thinking I should probably let her know that Sam and I were no longer together. That would be the right, if not a little awkward, thing to do. I kept my mouth shut, though.

“I did, but it was hard.” June shrugged off my comment. “Times were tough. I remember one year, I was short on cash for Will’s birthday. I hated it, but if I had to choose between paying the bills and getting them a new toy, it wasn’t really a choice. I’d gotten a few things from the thrift store for him. Some new shoes and used games. It was something, but I could tell he was disappointed. Broke my fucking heart, let me tell you. I thought we were both gonna cry.” She chuckled, like she was fond of this memory.

“Well, Sam leaves the table and comes back with this horribly lumpy package, all wrapped up with newspaper he’d found from the recycling. It was his favorite monster truck. Someone from the church had given it to him a few months before for doing some work around their house. Picking up sticks and such. All the boys were just wild over it. It made sounds and lit up. It was a big deal. And Sam just handed it over to his brother. No muss, no fuss. I think I was prouder that day than when he graduated medical school.”

I set another bag down where she pointed and wiped my brow. My heart clenched. That was just so…so…so Sam . “How old was he?”

“Oh, must have been about ten. I worked my ass off the next month. Saved up enough to buy him a replacement. Conner, too. I think they all still have them somewhere stored in the attic.” We shared a smile, but her eyes grew serious. “That’s the reason I’ve always worried about him. He gives too much of himself without thinking to ask for what he needs in return.”

My smile melted off my face. Ah. This wasn’t just friendly rambling and rock-hauling. This was some sort of maternal intervention.

“Oh, don’t give me that look. I don’t know exactly what’s going on between you two. All I know is that my boy has been walking around for the last week like someone told him Santa wasn’t real, or something.” She reached out to place a hand on my arm, keeping me from grabbing the next bag from her trunk. “You’re the first thing I think he’s ever really wanted to keep for himself, Lainey.”

A lump found its way into my throat. I swallowed it down. And again, when the first attempt wasn’t successful.

“It’s not my place to get in the middle of things, and Sammy would probably die if he knew I was talking to you.” She peered up at me. “But he is quiet. I hope you see how much you mean to him. Even if he might not say it all the time.” She shot me a dry look. “Though he should.”

A weak laugh bubbled out of me. She squeezed my arm before letting go.

“Lainey? Sorry, I just got your texts.” Tess emerged from R 3 , ducking under the arm of a tall, insanely attractive man who held the door open for her. “You still want to talk?”

Her eyes widened, flicking from the man behind her and back to me. I couldn’t read her face. It was hard to tell if she wanted me to save her or leave her alone with the Henry Cavill look-alike staring at her with rapt attention.

“You go have fun, dear. Thank you for listening to the musings of an old lady.” June grabbed a bag of gravel and hefted it to her shoulder with ease. Sneaky, sneaky, June.

My chat with Tess was quick, mainly since her ex (the ignoring, birthday-forgetting ex who was suddenly here looking like a movie star and hanging on her every word!) followed her around like a puppy and I wasn’t willing to get in the middle of whatever was going on there. Based on the surreptitious, hungry looks she was giving him, I didn’t think she needed any borrowed relationship drama in her life. She had enough of her own.

She leaned into my car window after I ducked back into the front seat, ignoring Superman, where he leaned against the spiffy, new-model EV parked across the lot. “I’m sorry I don’t have more time to talk. There’s…a lot going on.”

“No, it’s okay.” I snuck another look at him. “I will need a download on what’s happening here as soon as that work project is done.”

She groaned, resting her forehead against my car. “The project is with him . I can’t shake him even if I wanted to.”

“Do you? Want to?” I peeked around her to take another look. “I wouldn’t shake him off if he was stuck to me…”

“Hey. We’re here for your crisis, not mine. Focus.” She sighed, tilting her head to look at me. “It sounds like you have a lot of thoughts about what’s happened. Maybe instead of talking to me, you talk to Sam about it?”

“I’m still mad at him. And sad.”

“You’re allowed to be mad and sad. He did a stupid thing. Boys are stupid. I validate this.” She held her palms out like she was trying to calm a raging beast inside my vehicle. “But it sounds like you said a lot of things in anger. Maybe now that you’ve gotten a little distance from it all, it would be nice to revisit things with a calmer head.”

I slumped in my seat. “I miss him.” It was a whispered confession while I watched June make yet another trek from her car, this time hauling one bag on each arm. “I miss him and I’m mad at him.”

Tess’s eyes flickered to the man across the parking lot. “Both things can be true at the same time, unfortunately.”

We looked at each other for a moment, commiserating.

“Boys are stupid.”

“Boys are stupid,” she agreed.

I stayed up too late that night, tossing and turning and thinking about monster trucks and morals, and how good intentions can still have bad consequences. I thought about my work, my career, and the things I loved about it and hated about it. Sam, so much Sam. How much I wanted to be curled up on his porch, pouring all this out to him. He’d probably know what to say. And maybe we’d be able to work past it and move on.

The problem was, I was still terrified. He’d shattered my trust. Besides, how could I move forward with him now, when I was still reeling from things that happened years ago? Nate and Katie’s faces flashed in my brain more than I wanted to admit. How many betrayals did I have to go through until I got the picture and left well enough alone?

Maybe I’d said some wrong things to him out of anger, but I’d been right about at least one thing: I couldn’t do it again. Losing him, losing everything? I wasn’t strong enough. And I hated myself for it.

I wanted to give him a monster truck, but I felt like my emotional bank was empty. He deserved someone who could give him everything he wanted without a second thought, and I had second, third, fourth, and fifth thoughts.

I laid awake for a long time, thinking about anger and fear. And how sometimes they feel the same.