Devon

Devon woke up early Monday morning. He hadn’t really been able to sleep anyway. Ever since his conversation with Sam, his stomach was in knots. He still couldn’t believe it had gone so wrong. When he got home he was a mess. He must have looked as wrecked as he felt because Cara took one look at him and refused to leave his side until he told her what happened.

Cara was actually really kind, and a good listener. Devon felt bad for never giving her a chance all these years. Things had been better between them since that night at the hospital with Sam. Zander had finally driven Devon home after Mr. Connors told him Sam was okay. When they got home, Cara was waiting up for them. The three of them had a heart-to-heart and Cara pretty much told them both that they weren’t leaving the house again unless they all pledged to be honest with each other and start trying to behave like family.

He and Zander had begrudgingly agreed. Devon secretly loved having someone mother him. He hadn’t felt that kind of love since his own mother left. It weakened his defenses and he’d spilled everything to Cara—his unhappiness with her redecorating and hatred of Eggsy, feeling trapped by his father’s company, his feelings for Sam. By the end of the night—well, actually it was morning—they’d patched up a lot of their differences.

It turned out Devon had Cara all wrong. Like Zander said, she was just as lost as Devon after Henry’s passing. She was redecorating because everything reminded her of Henry and made her cry. And she was leaving food with his name on it because she wanted him to eat something but was afraid to be too pushy. And she promised Devon they’d find a suitable replacement for him at Cor-Tec, because the only thing Henry had truly wanted for Devon was his happiness.

With things going so well between him, Cara and Zander, Devon had decided to try and fix the last missing piece of his life. He had to wait until Mr. Connors finally agreed to let him come over and talk to Sam. He’d sent Devon away the first time, but by Sunday, Devon had worn him down. Although now he sort of wished he hadn’t.

He’d been so sure that once he finally had a chance to talk to Sam, everything would right itself. They were Devon and Sam—his love for her had survived across continents. He couldn’t have ruined everything with a few weeks of foolish thinking. Could he? He’d only been keeping his distance because he thought he was protecting her—that she was better off without him. But he knew how stupid that was now. Grad night had proven they needed each other. Thinking Sam was in danger was the only thing that snapped Devon out of his self-loathing.

After Devon told Cara how terribly his conversation with Sam had gone on Sunday, she suggested he write her a letter. She thought it might be easier for him to get his feelings across to Sam if he wasn’t there to argue with. Devon thought it was actually a brilliant idea, but every time he sat down to write, he got stuck on the first sentence. The only thing he managed to write was, I love you. But each time he stared at those three little words, he heard Sam’s voice telling him it wasn’t enough.

Now, as the sunlight streamed into his bedroom, Devon realized he must have nodded off in the midst of writing, because he had ink on his hands and heard paper crinkling beneath him when he rolled over. He sat up, hanging his legs over the side of his bed, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. He tried to take a deep breath, but he felt wrung dry—his insides all twisted and brittle. He couldn’t live like this. He needed to make things right with Sam. He’d told her he wasn’t giving up, and he’d meant it.

Devon got out of bed and took a quick shower to wake himself up. He dressed with renewed determination. He was going to write that damn letter and it was going to perfect, because he loved Sam and love was always enough.

He was just sitting down at his desk to lay his heart out on paper when Cara burst through his bedroom door, with Zander right behind her. Eggsy snarled at them and Devon leapt up to restrain him.

“Good, you’re dressed!” Cara said breathlessly, keeping one eye fixed on Eggsy.

“Lucky for all of us,” Zander teased.

Cara gave Zander a look of death. “You shouldn’t be joking. This is your fault.”

“How was I supposed to know why he needed the car?” Zander replied defensively.

“Is someone going to tell me what’s going on?” Devon asked.

Cara spoke. “You need to go to Sam’s house immediately. Her father called an hour ago requesting to borrow our car service to the airport.”

The color drained from Devon’s face. “What? She’s leaving?”

“I didn’t know it was for Sam,” Zander said apologetically.

“She said she was going back to Boston, but she didn’t say she was leaving today. I thought she meant at the end of the school year,” Devon replied.

Zander shook his head. “Last I talked to her she said she wasn’t coming back next term.”

“I confirmed with Thorton the car’s for Sam,” Cara said.

“Christ!”

“Well, what are you waiting for?” Cara squawked, practically shoving Devon out the door. “Go get your girl!”

Sam

“Bye, Dad. I love you,” Sam said giving her father a big hug before getting into the back of the town car.

“I love you too, honey. Call me as soon as you land,” her father said for the hundredth time.

“I will, Dad. I promise.”

“I’m sorry I’m not coming with you,” he said again. “It’s just the—”

“Dad, it’s okay.” Sam knew he was hosting a big web conference right when her plane took off, but she was too eager to get back to Boston to change her flight time. Plus, she didn’t want him to change his mind about letting her go. Getting back to Boston had become like a shuttle launch, she had to take the window of opportunity before it disappeared. “I’ll see you next weekend, Dad,” she said blowing him a kiss and shutting the car door.

He stood in the driveway and waved to her until she couldn’t see him anymore. It was odd for him to be so clingy. She wasn’t used to having him worry about her so much, but ever since the hospital, it was like a protective mama bear had hijacked her usually oblivious father. He was upset that she didn’t want to wait one more week for him to fly home with her, but he hadn’t argued with her.

After Sam had told him how she felt about Devon, her father had been making an effort to be more understanding. And he hadn’t said any of his token poster sayings either. She’d expected him to say, you’re too young to be in love, or, you’re better off without him. But he didn’t. Instead he apologized for not setting a better example for her as far as healthy relationships were concerned. He’d even tried to talk about her mother. But after he’d said, “I wish your mother were here. She would know what to say,” Sam had stopped him.

She could see how much it hurt him to talk about her mother, and she didn’t see any reason for both of them to be hurting. Besides, Sam wasn’t strong enough to pick up the pieces if her father fell apart too. She was barely holding herself together.

Sam was hoping she’d feel better this morning, but as the car wound through the rolling green hills toward Dublin, she still felt hollow. Devon’s words kept haunting her. I’m in love with you. And I’m not gonna stop. She’d wanted to hear him say those words every day since his father died. So why, when he finally said them, was it not enough?

Sam wished she had an answer. She still loved Devon. If she didn’t it wouldn’t hurt so much to leave him. But the problem was, it hurt to stay too. Ireland would always remind Sam of the things she’d lost—her mother, the senior year she was supposed to have, and now, her first love.

Sam put in her ear buds and cranked up Adele, finally understanding what she’d been singing about all this time.