Page 35

~ SAM ~

Holding her was a balm. I’d do it as much as I could over the next couple of days. The tension was slowly easing out of both of us, and touch made it easier and easier to relax. I stroked her hair and held her and prayed that somehow we’d find a way to help her get through this so she didn’t have to run again. But I was afraid.

She’d been desperate to be alone. Now she was desperate for me to be here.

Who knew which it would be next time she was triggered?

She took a deep breath, sagged against my shoulder and cupped the side of my neck with her hand.

“I can’t believe you’re not mad at me,” she whispered.

I huffed. “I’m sure I will be at some point—but I was scared. I know why this time of year freaks you out. I… I did some digging, just normal stuff online. I feel like I understand better now. But I wish you’d told me instead of just running. For a while there I was terrified you’d given up on me .”

“See, that’s what I meant. Do you have any clue how different you are, Sam?” she said, lifting her head and turning my chin to make me face her. “You are not normal.”

I grinned because she liked that. “Wasn’t that the whole point? Neither of us does normal well, Bridget. ”

“Yeah, but…” she bit her lip and frowned like she was trying to figure something out. “I’m the kind of abnormal that scares people. You’re the kind that makes people feel safe.”

I shrugged. I hoped it was true. That was the goal. But she didn’t seem to understand how differently she saw the world than so many others.

“Don’t, Sam,” she said, frowning harder.

“Don’t what?”

“Don’t shrug that off—it’s incredible how you just… get me. No one else ever does. Gerald understands why I do stuff, but he can never seem to understand me. Jeremy just thinks I should do everything he says because then I won’t have a problem. Everyone else either fans my flames and sends me over the edge, or runs away from me because they think I’m dangerous.”

“I know the feeling,” I said earnestly.

“And that’s what I mean,” she said, sitting up a little and cupping my face, staring at me intently. “I’m not dangerous. When this happens every year, I go away like this to somewhere private and I don’t do anything except avoid the world. But they still think I’m destroying myself.”

I cleared my throat and splayed a hand at her back so she’d feel me there with her. “The thing is, Bridget, it is dangerous for you to be alone when you’re scared like that. I… I don’t want you to do that again.”

The v between her brows popped up and she looked down.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to,” she whispered, then her eyes returned to mine. “It didn’t work this time, Sam. I couldn’t stay away. I…”

I sucked in. “Tell me.”

Her throat bobbed and her eyes shone. “I need you, Sam. I can’t feel safe without you.”

“Well, thank God, because I feel the same way,” I said honestly, relief washing through me that she was willing to say it.

But she shook her head. “Doesn’t that scare you? It scares the shit out of me.”

“Of course it scares me—especially when you’re out there doing God knows what and you haven’t told me, and I can’t just go after you… it terrifies me. Bridget, I was in pieces not knowing where you were.”

“I’m sorry.” She rested her head against my shoulder again and her hand slid down to flatten on my chest, right over my heartbeat. “Forgive me?” she whispered.

“Always.”

I felt her go still. “Really?”

“Really,” I said, my voice rough because this was real to me. “Look, I’m not saying I’ll never get mad. And if something goes wrong, it might take me some time to give it up. But I’ll always forgive you, Bridget. You have my word.”

She swallowed audibly. “Why?”

“Because God always forgives me. So I know what a relief it is. He forgives anyone who asks. He says that’s love. I love you. I’ll always give you that. Just… be patient with me if I need to work through it.”

She tensed. “I still can’t believe God forgives my father.”

Oh boy. Here we go. I cleared my throat. “He made a way. He would, if your dad recognized that he needed it. Does he?”

She gave a derisive snort. “No. Impossible. He’s stubborn as hell and always has to be in control. It would never happen.”

I shrugged. “I know some men who are awful—or used to be. I used to be.” I looked down at her. I didn’t think this was the time to tell her that I’d spoken to him. But I also knew I couldn’t hold it back. She needed to know. God, give me wisdom to know when to tell her. “If you’d met me a decade ago, you might have wanted to fuck me, but you wouldn’t have wanted to stay close. You would have recognized in me the kind of man that used to be around your dad and you wouldn’t have wanted to be close, I think.”

She nodded slowly. “But you’re not like that now.”

“Exactly,” I said. “People can change.”

She frowned again. “But how do you know it’s real? How do you tell between the guy who’s manipulating, and the one who’s changing?”

“You can see it in me.”

“But that’s a feeling. I knew.”

I nodded. “I think… my experience with guys in the prison is that a lot know how to say the right thing, use the right words, to get people on their side. But words are pretty easy. Real change you can only see with time. It’s just not possible otherwise. You have to be around them and see what they do —see if their reactions are changing. It has to be more than words.”

“People can fake that though, too.”

“Yeah, but not for a long time,” I conceded. “When I started wanting to change, it was important to me to be different. To be a man of my word instead of lying. To catch myself if I was manipulating someone and stop. To just be honest. But I found out there’s freedom in that. Other people are always going to let us down. And we’re always going to let each other down. Someone who’s changing still does things wrong, but they make an effort to fix it afterwards—and to avoid the problem later. None of us will be right all the time, Bridget. We’re all too fucked up. For me, real change came in the thoughts between me and God first. Then I started acting different. No one else can see that in the short term. It has to be observed over time.”

She squirmed on my lap, which sent a jolt through me, but I tried to ignore it. This was important.

“But even if they changed, how do you forgive the awful stuff? I mean…” she sat up again and looked me right in the eye. “Sam, how the hell have you forgiven me for getting us into this mess?”

I had a simultaneous rush of love for her, and the flare of anger right alongside it, because she was the reason we were sneaking to be together right now, and I hated that. “I still struggle sometimes,” I said honestly.

She tensed, but I held her hips tightly, keeping her there with me. “Not struggling with wanting to be with you, babe, but with… anger. Fear. I wish it wasn’t happening this way.”

“But you said you forgive me—”

“I do.” I pushed a strand of hair back from her face. “Forgiveness isn’t saying it was okay to do. It’s not pretending it never happened. It’s… giving up the bad feelings to let myself feel love again. It’s saying… I can see you and care for you despite what you did. So I’m not driven by that anger. When I see you, the first thought I haven’t isn’t that you betrayed me. It’s that you’re here, and thank God. The anger still comes sometimes. But that’s mine to wrestle with. I can walk through my day without carrying the wound of what you did. And I’d do that even if you left me. Even if you broke me. I’d forgive you—because if I didn’t, I’d be a mess.”

She bit her lip, her brow furrowing. I plowed on.

“People like your dad… he’s not healthy to have in your head. But that doesn’t mean you can’t forgive him. Forgiveness is for your sake. Anger, resentment, hate … it festers. Hell, he might not even know you forgave him. You do it to free yourself, not him. But Bridge… if you don’t… you’re the one who’s in bondage.”

I saw her recoil a hair, saw her grab herself and stop herself pulling away—and saw her turn the uncomfortable feeling into a wicked joke.

“I mean, I can get on board with a little bondage.”

I stared at her until she stopped grinning and sighed. Then I took her hand and put it back on my chest, flattening mine over hers. “When the time is right—and that’s not now, I think—let’s talk about him and what he did. And how you can get free of it so you’re not living in this fear anymore, okay?”

She took a deep breath and I saw the flicker of cynicism in her eyes. But she nodded. “I’ll try,” she said. “I really hope you’re right, Sam. I’ll try.”

I pulled her into a tight hug and we didn’t talk again for a while.