Page 294 of The Havenport Collection

Gio

I had felt the ticking clock for the past week. The countdown of our deadline. I had stupidly believed if I ignored it then Sam would too, and we could let this thing between us keep going. Because this was more than a fling. This was something special. Something important and worth preserving.

I still didn’t have the words to describe what was happening between us. A little voice in my head insisted that it was love—real, messy and complicated—but I tried to push that away. The last thing I needed was to make this situation even more difficult.

Because I had loved Sam for a long time. Or at least I thought I had. But the feelings that had surfaced recently went so far beyond what I had thought was love.

I found myself counting down the minutes until I could see her again. I wanted to tell her things, show her things, and let her see me in a way I never have before.

I had spent the majority of my adult life guarding my heart.

Because I’d had a front-row seat to my parents’ dysfunctional marriage, I witnessed the fallout from their divorce in real time.

My mom found greener pastures and never looked back, and my dad let it destroy him, making him unable to be the parent his six kids needed.

So I knew from an early age that I had to hold some things back—I couldn’t get too invested. And it had been working out well for a long time.

But suddenly, giving Sam anything less than one hundred percent of my heart, mind, and soul just wasn’t enough. I was ready to take the next step with her. But our time was almost up. I needed to say something. Fight for us. But I didn’t have the words.

After leaving Nonna’s, we stopped by Sal’s pizza to grab a slice. Sam sat quietly, staring at the harbor and barely touching her mushroom and pepper. I had no idea what she and my Nonna had talked about, but I had a sinking feeling it was not going to end well for me.

“Do you think you can drive me home instead of going for ice cream?” she asked quietly.

“Of course.”

During the short ride, I felt the weight of the tension between us. Tension that a few hours ago had been nonexistent suddenly felt suffocating.

And I was contributing to it. Instead of talking and laughing and acting normal, I felt completely paralyzed with fear.

I didn’t know what to say or what to do.

The realization that I loved this woman more deeply than I could ever have imagined and that she might just feel the same way somehow froze my brain, making me unable to even articulate one coherent thought.

By the time we walked through the door, my stomach was in my shoes. My brain was screaming at me to take her in my arms and kiss her and reassure her. But I was struck dumb.

Sam curled up on the couch, wrapping her grandmother’s afghan around her shoulders. “I really appreciate you, Gio,” she said tentatively.

My heart sank. This was worse than I had expected. I sat down next to her, trying to avoid throwing up.

She gave me a sad smile. “We’ve had so much fun together.”

Had? What is happening? “Sam,” I stuttered. “We can still have fun.”

She shook her head. “That’s the thing though. We can’t.” I sat and stared at her beautiful face, unsure of how to respond. “I start chemo the day after tomorrow. And you’re leaving for France soon.”

“I’ll be back in less than two weeks.”

“But then it’s surgery next month, then radiation, and possibly more chemo, and finally, reconstruction. I’m looking at months, likely more than a year until I’m healthy and even then, things will be different. I’ll be different. And we can’t keep going. We can’t keep up this fling.”

The words felt like a cold slap in the face. I took a deep breath, trying to compose my thoughts. “I think this is more than a fling, Sam.” My voice was shaky. “A lot more.”

“I don’t care about the label, Gio. Whatever it is, it’s been amazing; you have been amazing. And I feel so fucking lucky. These last three weeks could have been filled with grief and despair but thanks to you, I have incredible memories with my best friend. But we can’t keep going.”

“Yes, we can. We are adults, Sam. We can do whatever the hell we want. Just because we picked an arbitrary deadline a few weeks ago does not mean we are not allowed to change our minds and decide what is best for us.”

Her face fell, and I knew instantly I had said the wrong thing.

“Arbitrary? Nothing about this decision is arbitrary.” Her eyes filled with tears, and I could feel my heart breaking.

“This was perfect, whatever it was. It was so much more than I ever expected, and I loved every single minute with you. I have spent the majority of my life wondering what it would be like to be yours. And it was incredible.”

Her tears were running down her cheeks now, and I wanted to reach out and hold her, soothe her, and make all this sadness go away. But I couldn’t.

“And that’s the thing,” she continued. “Something so special and precious, it can’t last forever. If we drag this out we will both suffer. Let’s end this on a high note.”

“A high note?” This had to be a joke. She couldn’t be serious. I wanted to shake her. Tell her what a mistake she was making. Tell her that I was in love with her—hell, I always had been—and I wanted to be with her, whatever was coming next.

That together we were stronger, and I would stick.

But the words died on my lips. Because this wasn’t about me. I had promised I would do whatever she asked. I would give her whatever she wanted. Whatever would help her heal.

“Is this really what you want?”

She nodded. “It is. I need to focus on what’s next for me. But I’m still your best friend.”

“Of course you are. And I’m yours.”

“I want you to go to France and enjoy yourself. Have fun. Live your life. I’ll just be here, doing my treatments. Everything will be fine.”

I nodded. There was nothing I could say. Her mind was made up.

“You should call Chloe.”

I could feel the bile rising up in my throat. She wanted me to call Chloe? My French casual hookup? The thought made me ill. Suddenly, all the frustration I was feeling overwhelmed me.

“I would never.” I stood up, angry and confused.

“I am your best friend, and I will always respect your feelings and your wishes. But I will not, under any circumstances, be hooking up with Chloe or anyone else for that matter. You are the one I want, Sam, and I’m not going to settle for anything else. ”

I was feeling more and more angry. She thought she could just toss me aside and I’d be picking up other women a few days later? What did she think of me?

I didn’t want to leave her. I wanted to stay, to hold her hand through every doctor’s appointment, and do every single thing I could to make this experience better for her.

But I couldn’t. I could only do what she asked and support her choices. That’s what best friends did.

“You need to go live your life,” she said coldly. “I can’t ask you to wait for me.”

“I’ll be back. And I am going to be the best fucking friend you’ve ever had. Because that’s what you deserve. But I’m not giving up on us. I’m patient. I waited my entire life to experience this magic, and I’ll wait the rest of my life to get it back.”

I left the house, wanting to punch something nearby, but settled for sending a quick SOS text to Matteo before speeding straight to his house. He met me with a six-pack, and Eliza produced a large package of Oreos for me to stress eat while I spilled my guts.

These feelings. The loss and grief and confusion and anger. This happened every single time. It was the one constant in my life. I spent time with Sam, realized how incredible she was, and right before I could say something or do something, she disappeared.

And every time I fell into a hole of self-loathing and confusion. Of feeling like a coward for never saying the words out loud.

There had been so many opportunities through the years. And every time I chickened out.

But this time I did it. I made my move, several moves. I gave her everything I could in the hopes that it would be enough. But it wasn’t. I wasn’t.

And tonight, instead of laying it all out on the line, instead of telling her the truth—that I had loved her my entire life, but over the past few weeks I had truly fallen for her—I sat and let her push me away. Let her break her own heart and mine.

And just like every time before, I fell into the hole.