Twenty-One
I wake with a sense of clarity. Or it could be the sunlight streaming in from the undressed window.
Tossing an arm over my eyes, I block out the daylight, not quite ready to face the harsh light of day just yet. What happened between Saxon and I was…I don’t even know. There are no words to describe how I feel. It was nothing short of amazing.
After we collapsed, fully satisfied and complete, I fell asleep in his arms. I woke during the night, snuggled underneath a rug Saxon had draped over us. His heartbeat thumps robustly and warmly underneath my ear—a sound which almost lulls me back to sleep. But I know sooner or later we have to face what we did.
He said things would change between us and they have—they’ve changed for the better. I know I cheated on Samuel—I have both physically and emotionally, and for that, I will never forgive myself. But I’ll never be sorry for what transpired between Saxon and me. But before we confront Sam, we have to uncover what “this” is. We both expressed our love for one another, but that doesn’t automatically mean we’re a couple. Or does it?
The ring feels heavy on my finger, and for the first time in so many days, I know it’s time. I can’t wear Samuel’s ring any longer. We’re no longer the same people we once were. I can’t help but think that through losing Sam, I found myself. I found who I want to be.
Never feeling closer to another human being my entire life, I slowly rise, wanting to look at Saxon before he wakes. His mussed hair is sleep ruffled, flicking rebelliously in all different angles. His strong jaw line is covered with a dark scruff, complementing his bowed lips. Lips I so desperately want to kiss.
Leaning forward, I give into temptation and seal my mouth over his. Memories from last night flicker before my eyes, leaving me winded and craving more. He moans, the sound husky, rough, and so incredibly sexy.
“Good morning,” I whisper from around his lips. I don’t give him a chance to reply however as I slip my tongue into his warm mouth. He hums, surrendering, as I roll on top of him, our lips never breaking cadence.
When I feel him stir between my legs, although I’m a little sore, I’m eager to feel him inside of me again. As I sit up, the blanket pools around us, the sunlight highlighting Saxon in all of his glorious, naked beauty. The vision has me realizing I’ve never seen him completely bare before.
He is an exquisite creature.
Tracing the sharpened planes and contours of his body, I decide to share something with him. Bare to him, I bare my soul. “When you first came to the hospital, I remember thinking you were here to save Sam.” He lowers his eyes, appearing saddened by my revelation. Placing a finger under his chin, I beckon him to look at me. “But now I know…you were here to save me.”
Tears prick his eyes as he shuts them, and nothing has ever looked more beautiful.
We don’t speak, as our silence speaks volumes. I continue tracing over his cheeks, down his sharp jaw, outlining his collarbones, before gliding my fingers down his chest. As I detour to his flank, the elegant script tattooed on his side catches my eye. I’ve never been able to read it and when he shifts, I know there’s a reason why.
I read the words over and over, not understanding what I’m seeing. There must be some mistake. My fingers clutch at his side, pleading that there is some mistake. But when his eyes pop open and nothing but guilt lies in their depths, I know I’ve at long last found the final piece to my puzzle.
My heart begins a deafening march, and I’m finding it hard to breathe. I’m suffocating—suffocating on something that I can’t explain.
“W-why do you h-have that tattooed on y-you?” My voice breaks as I point to his side. He frowns, shaking his head regrettably. “Saxon, why?” I scream when he doesn’t answer me.
The air is sour, stagnant. “You know why.” Those three words seal my fate, along with his tattoo.
Ask her if she still keeps all her kings in the back row.
That line is from The Catcher in the Rye—it’s the line which brought Samuel and me together. Those words left me a love struck fool. But why does Saxon have them tattooed on him?
My mind flashes back to that exact moment, that exact moment in time when Samuel and I first met. Looking down at Saxon’s hands, I remember the flecks of dirt underneath Sam’s fingernails—just like someone would have if tinkering around under a hood.
No…it can’t be.
I shift off of him and slump to the ground. “Lucy, please, let me explain.” Saxon raises his hands as he sits up, worry etching every corner of his face as he slips into his jeans.
“It was you?” I gasp, not needing him to draw a diagram. “It was you in the library…and not Sam, wasn’t it? It was you who gave me this?” I yank at the chain around my neck.
“Lucy…”
“Wasn’t it?” I shout, tears filling my tears.
“…Yes.”
I suddenly feel so naked. I reach for the blanket and cover myself, feeling utterly exposed and humiliated.
“Please let me explain.” He sits beside me, but I shift away.
I can’t speak, so I listen, hoping that some part of this will make sense.
“It was me you met in the library, not Sam. I understand how you could mistake us, especially since I didn’t correct you. You never said Sam’s name, but deep down, I knew you thought I was him.”
“But I saw the basketball inside your backpack,” I reveal, one of the reasons why I assumed he was Sam. “And you were so cocky. So Sam like.”
“I did that to impress you. I saw the way girls flocked to Sam. I was trying to mimic his confidence. And the basketball? I had Sam’s bag. It wasn’t uncommon for me to pretend I was him.”
“What?” I wheeze, as I feel there is so much more to this story.
Exhaling, he reveals, “I’ve loved you since the first moment I saw you.” He looks embarrassed by his admission. “You radiated so much warmth and sunshine. I was drawn to you. But I was a shy kid, thanks to being told I was never any good. After being told that your entire life, you start to believe it.
I used my journals as a way to express myself because I could never voice my feelings to my mom, my dad, Sam, or to tell you how I felt. Sam read my diaries. That’s how he knew I liked you. I also spoke to him about you, after that day in the library, asking for advice because I didn’t know how to talk to girls. I told him everything we spoke about, naively thinking he’d help me get the girl. Instead, he got the girl. My girl.”
“No,” I whisper, tears spilling down my cheeks. “It can’t be true.”
“It is true, Lucy.” Closing his eyes, he exposes his soul to me. “August fourth, two thousand and four. Today, I spoke to the girl of my dreams—little Lucy Tucker.”
I gasp, shaking my head. Sam’s nickname for me wasn’t his after all.
“I followed her to the library, adamant that today was the day I was going to finally speak to her. I was tired of looking at her from afar. She was even more beautiful up close. Long honey blonde hair, and the greenest eyes I’ve ever seen. Eyes which encompass innocence and hope.
When she asked to borrow my copy of The Catcher in the Rye, I tried my best to act cool. But when we touched, I felt alive. No one has ever made me feel the way she does. When I offered her the book and told her she can keep it for as long as she likes, I wanted to add the same could be said about me.
“Lucy Tucker is my queen and I can only hope that one day, I’ll be her king in the back row.” He opens his eyes, a melancholy smile touching his cheeks.
The narration of his journal entry has me weeping, choking on my strangled sobs. It was him. This entire time, it was Saxon. I stroke over his queen chess piece tattoo on his forearm. Did he get this for me? Am I still his queen?
“Why didn’t you tell me? You let me believe you were Sam. Why didn’t you correct me, Saxon, why?”
“Because I saw the way you looked at Samuel. You liked him. When we first spoke in the library, I knew you felt the same spark that I felt for you, but I didn’t know if it was genuine or not—if you felt that for me, or for Sam. I wanted to tell you, but I was afraid you’d stop looking at me the way that you did. I wanted so desperately for you to want me; that’s why I didn’t tell you. I didn’t want to believe that when you looked at me you saw Sam, so I made you see me—and you did. But I was too late.
The person you returned the book to and had coffee with was Sam, not me, Lucy. He knew about you because like I said, I had confided in him about how much I liked you. I even asked for his advice on how to talk to you. That’s why he fell into the role of being me, well, him, so easily. He knew everything.”
“What?” I gasp.
“When I saw you a week later holding hands, I felt betrayed, hurt beyond belief. I thought that regardless of our connection, you still wanted Sam. I never knew you had coffee until Sam told me when we turned eighteen. He apologized and told me that you had approached him, thinking it was me, well, him. He didn’t mean for things to happen. He said he was just intrigued by the girl who had captured my heart. But in turn, he fell in love with you. He’s always been in love with you. Sam may have been an asshole to me, Lucy, but his feelings for you have always been real. You changed him.”
We’re both silent, deep in thought.
“By trying to act like Sam,” he scoffs. “I inadvertently made you think I was him. I wanted to believe you thought it was me, but everyone wanted Sam. It made sense you wanted him too.”
“I wanted you, Saxon. I fell for the boy who gave me this.” I sadly look down at the necklace which now represents all I’ve lost. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
He shrugs, helpless. “It didn’t matter. I could see that you loved him, and you were happy. I was so hurt that you couldn’t tell us apart. Stupid, isn’t it? We’re identical, for fuck’s sake. But regardless, I couldn’t be around you and be reminded of what I lost. And I couldn’t be reminded of what Sam did. He betrayed me, even if he said he didn’t mean to, causing an even bigger rift between us.”
This explains everything. His hatred for me was caused by the fact I hurt him. I unintentionally hurt him, but tell that to a seventeen-year-old kid. But as we got older, he surely understood that I was just a child. I deserved to know the truth. “Why didn’t you tell me when we got older? Or why didn’t you tell me the day that we kissed?”
I’m beseeching him to tell me the truth because I need to understand.
With shaky fingers, he reaches out and brushes a strand of hair from my forehead. His touch still sends shivers down my spine. “Because I wanted you to want me. Not the seventeen-year-old me you met in the library. Yes, it was me you first met, but it was him you fell in love with. I wanted a chance to prove myself. To show you that the spark between us has always been there.”
A thought hits me, leaving me winded. “You stayed away because of me. I ruined your life.” He sacrificed his happiness for me.
Shaking his head vehemently, he cries, “Lucy, no. This isn’t your fault.” He wipes away my torrent of tears with his thumbs. “This is why I never wanted to tell you. It resolves nothing. It only brings up bad memories, ones I wish I could forget.”
I thought I had all pieces to the puzzle, but I don’t. There is still one remaining. “Is that why you hate Sam? Because he stole me away from you?”
Saxon sighs, his face forlorn. “It’s part of the reason why.”
“But there’s something else?”
He nods.
I dig through every word he’s spoken, looking for a clue, a minor sign which will piece this all together. It’s there; it’s on the tip of my tongue.
It comes to me so quickly, I nearly double over in disbelief. “Oh, god, Saxon, no—what did you do?”
He runs a hand through his hand, closing his eyes ashamed. “Being someone’s twin allows you to be a doppelganger. And Sam asked me to be his. Numerous times. When he got into trouble with Kellie, I always took the blame. Perfect Sam could do no wrong. She could never tell us apart, so in the end, even when she caught Sam red handed, it was always my fault. Sometimes, I think she knew it was Sam, but it was always easier to believe one child was a failure, and not both her boys.
I hated Sam, but he was my brother and I naïvely hoped that maybe one day he’d need me as much as I needed him. But then I grew up. I realized there are bad people in this world, and my brother was one of them.”
I gulp.
“We were always competing for Kellie’s affection. She shouldn’t have had one child, let alone two. But she loved Sam. He excelled at sports, something my parents could understand. But me, they thought I was weird, different. I was set outside the Stone mold.
“So the answer to your question is if Kellie, our own mother couldn’t tell us apart, what hope did our teachers have? Sam was a great basketballer, but he was a lousy, lazy student. Dad was on his back to get good grades, set on him graduating and helping him on the farm. But Sam didn’t want that. He wanted that scholarship to Montana State. But for that to happen, he not only had to excel at basketball, but in all his other subjects, too.
“He begged me to help him, saying I was the smart one, while he was the one who was supposed to turn pro. That was his dream, Lucy. And as his older brother, even after all the shit he pulled, even after Kellie favoring him throughout our entire childhood, I wanted that for him. And a selfish part of me wanted him gone, hopeful he’d leave you behind.”
I don’t make a sound, lost in a past I always knew was there.
“I sat his SATs for him, and I aced it. He was getting that scholarship, no questions asked. The makeup test was the following week, which I was going to sit. I made up some lame excuse that I had the flu and couldn’t get out of bed to sit the original test. The excuse stuck, as no one upset the Stones. But that never happened because Sam told me the wrong date. I trusted him, but he lied. I was a day too late. The story of my life.”
This is too much. “Why would he lie? It doesn’t make any sense.”
Saxon looks wounded as he confesses, “Because he wanted to ensure that I stayed here and looked after the farm with Dad while he went off to college and lived the dream. If not both, then one of us was expected to stay—no guessing which child my parents preferred. Sam wanted to make sure there was no hope of me getting into college and moving away. He was looking after himself. Better I stay here than him.”
I shake my head. “But he didn’t accept the scholarship. He stayed here, and he did what your father wanted anyway. And your mom and dad, they seemed so proud of him. I don’t understand.”
“I told him if he didn’t tell mom and dad what we did, then I would. He always feared the wrath of Kellie, so he finally agreed. Deep down, I think he knew she’d never believe me. But Greg did. He knew Sam wasn’t a good student, and that his top marks must have been my doing. Kellie and Greg feared what this would do to the Stone name if I ever spilled. And they knew that I would. So behind my back, they made a deal. Sam was to graduate, but as punishment for his actions, he would no longer be offered a scholarship.”
“And your punishment,” I whisper.
“I was to graduate bottom of the class, with no hope of ever getting into a decent college. My mistake was their reward as I had just doomed Sam and my future. To their friends on the school board, they looked honorable, teaching their sons a lesson. But in reality, they were only doing this for themselves. Yes, they were proud he was a great basketballer. But that stopped the minute high school ended. It was always expected Sam and I were to work with Greg. ‘I can’t have Stone and Sons without my sons,’ Greg would state, saying he would be the laughing stock in Big Sky County and beyond. And this was his way to ensure we never left. All hope for the future was gone. Sam at least had a chance at going to college. But me, I was stuck regretting the biggest mistake of life.”
“Why didn’t you fight them?”
“Kellie and Greg would have no doubt manipulated the situation to work in their favor. There was no point fighting them. I did that my entire life and lost. My parents fixed the system so their kids failed. How messed up is that? Loving parents would want the opposite for their kids. But my parents are one of a kind. The results were kept secret, of course. Couldn’t tarnish the Stone name. It appeared that Sam and I stayed here by choice. But we never did have a choice.”
This explains Kellie’s hatred for Saxon. In her eyes, he was trying to take Sam away from her.
“That’s why you left?”
“Yes. It was time I made my own destiny,” he says with conviction.
“Sam ruined your life,” I cry, gripping the edges of the blanket, huddling beneath it. “You could have gone to college. You could have been anything you wanted to be.” Sam was right, Saxon was the smart brother. But because of one simple mistake, his future was taken away from him.
No wonder Sam never wanted to talk about college or the scholarship. Always brushing it off like it was his choice. But in reality, there was never a choice to be made.
Kellie, Greg, and Samuel were happy to see Saxon gone, as he took their secrets with him. “None of them deserved your help,” I exclaim, outraged at them. “But yet, you still came.”
“I came because you asked me to,” he simply replies. “I stayed because I knew how much you loved him. As much as I didn’t want him to remember, I was going to try because I couldn’t stand to see you cry.”
This man has always had my best interests at heart—it’s too bad I was blinded by something that was all lies. “I don’t even know w-who Sam is. He never l-loved me. It explains why he doesn’t remember me,” I stutter, choking on my grief.
His face turns soft, affectionate as he looks at me. “Yes, Lucy, he does. How can anyone not love you? At first, he did it because he was curious. But then he saw what a compassionate, extraordinary person you are, and he fell in love with you. And you fell in love with him.”
I choke back my sob. I don’t know what the truth is anymore.
A weight appears to be lifted off his shoulders, but I can still see his pain. “So that’s the Stone family secret. You now know it all. I wouldn’t blame you if you went running for the hills. I did. When I finally stopped feeling sorry for myself, I packed up my shit and moved from town to town. I got a job at a garage in Oregon, working for a guy named Gus. He was like a father to me. When he passed away to lung cancer, he left me the shop. Nicest thing anyone has ever done for me.”
I’ve missed so much of Saxon’s life. But I’ve also missed so much of mine. I can’t help but think what person I would have grown into if I had spent my life with Saxon and not Sam. Would I still be the same person I am now? Would I live where I do? Go to college where I did?
I could have been an entirely different person, and I suddenly feel cheated that the decision was taken away from me. I know Saxon had my best interests at heart, but he took away my choices. He made a decision for me which wasn’t his to make.
“You should have told me,” I press, my lower lip trembling.
My words appear to crush him. “I know. I’m sorry, Lucy. I was a dumb kid, angry at the world. And when I got older, it was too late. Looking in on your life, it was perfect, and I wanted that for you. You deserved that. I couldn’t offer you that. I still have nothing to offer you,” he confesses, lowering his eyes.
“Don’t say that.” His sadness hurts my heart.
“Regardless of what Sam did, you loved him. If I had told you, would you have believed me?” he poses.
Now I’m the one to avert my eyes, as I’m afraid to face the answer.
Remembering Sam’s comment about his good grades has me thinking he remembers bits and pieces. But I’m certain he doesn’t remember his parent’s sabotage—lucky for him. “Does he remember he did this?”
Saxon raises his shoulders. “I don’t know. I thought that he did, but now, I’m not so sure. He might have the luxury of forgetting, but I don’t. I live with the memory of what could have been, but never will, every day.”
Recalling Sam’s confession, I reveal, “He told me you spoke to him the night he woke up from a coma.”
“He heard that?” he asks, stunned.
“Yes.”
His mouth parts and an impressed ‘humph’ leaves him. “You were right.”
But my correct forewarning doesn’t make me feel any better. “He told me you said you couldn’t look after me. Why?”
“Because I’ve lived with the regret of not telling you the truth my entire life. I failed you. I failed everyone.”
I know I shouldn’t be angry, but I am. I can’t help but feel cheated. “You had no right to choose that for me. I fell in love with a lie. I fell in love with Sam because I thought he was the one who sent my heart into overdrive. But it was you. It’s been you all along.”
A tsunami of emotion rolls through me and I am beyond the point of no return. I’m so angry that the choice was taken away from me. “I feel like I don’t know who I am anymore,” I confess, blinking in disbelief.
He strokes over my eyes, my lips. “You’re you, Lucy. My little Lucy Tucker.”
Those words only make things murkier. I need to breathe. “I need time to clear my head.” I stand, shivering.
“Time? Why? This changes how you feel about me?” He’s on his knees, begging me to stay.
“This changes everything!” I cry out. “Sam should have told me. You both should have.”
His face falls and he blinks once. “It doesn’t change my feelings for you. It’ll always be you. But I understand if you hate me.”
His uncertainty and pain tears out my heart. “I don’t hate you. I just need time.”
“Are you still going to Syria?” he asks, holding his breath.
“I don’t know, Saxon! Nothing makes sense anymore.”
He nods, his eyes overflowing with nothing but sadness. Unleashing his secret hasn’t given him freedom. It never will.
I need to find my clothes and get out of here. I can’t make any decisions with him looking at me the way that he is. I need time, space, and silence. But just as I slip my dress over my head, a stale silence rips through the barn, resonating all the way to my soul.
“Saxon?” I spin around and gasp as I stare into the eyes of my true love—Samuel Stone. Saxon is still on his knees, the sight too monumental.
“Lucy?” His voice isn’t laced with the usual anger, hostility, or hatred, it sounds like my Sam—the old Sam.
“S-Sam?” My skin pricks with tiny goosebumps, and it has nothing to do with the gentle wind. Rays of sunlight kiss his face, highlighting the bright red collecting at his temple and trickling down his cheek. “You’re bleeding!” Finally finding my feet, I run over to where he is standing dazed, in the doorway. He appears confused, fearful, and dejected. “What happened?” I avoid his gaze, brushing back the matted hair at his brow.
He sniffs and raises his broad, bare shoulders. “I don’t know. I think I blacked out. When I came to, I was lying on the shower floor. I can’t…remember…”
“You can’t remember what?” I wheeze, my heart in song with a steady staccato. When he reaches for my wrist and secures his bitter cold fingers around me, I hold my breath. His touch feels so wrong.
“Can’t remember much of anything,” he replies after a sluggish silence.
I still can’t meet his eyes. “What’s the last thing you remember?” I let out the trapped breath as he releases me.
“I-I…” he falters. Gathering whatever courage I have left, I lift my eyes and meet his lost, vacant stare. “I remember getting ready for our wedding day,” he replies in a distant tone. “But I have a feeling I never made it?” I nod, envious that he has the luxury of forgetting the past few months, while I’m forced to remember every single heartbreaking detail.
“You honestly don’t remember a thing?” I can’t believe he gets given a fresh slate.
He shakes his head. “I remember nothing. Everything is so muddled. I must have hit my head harder than I thought.” He raises his hand and rubs at his brow. When he pulls away, blood coats his fingertips. His cheeks turn a deathly white. He hisses in a pained breath through clenched teeth.
He remembers. But how much does he recall?
“What happened?” he asks, begging me to appease his pain. When he reaches out to touch me, I can’t help but shrink away. He shakes his head, frowning. It appears he only just sees Saxon, on his knees, partially nude, when he shifts his gaze to the floor. His nostrils flare. “It appears a lot has happened.”
I’m suddenly wrapped in a blanket of culpability. I should be happy, but I’m not. This time, when he reaches out to touch me, I don’t recoil, but I should. Sam looks at me and I almost feel naked. I feel the need to cover my nudity and hide my sins from his knowledgeable eyes.
“I feel like I haven’t seen you in years. I feel like something has…changed.”
The burning guilt eats away at my stomach and I wrap my arms around my trembling body. We’re silent, the staleness between us reflecting where our relationship stands. I remember who I am, but Sam remembers who I was.
Saxon finally stands, his naked chest pronouncing what happened between us. Sam looks between us, his eyes suddenly filling with hot, angry tears. “No,” he gasps, “please god, no. Lucy, please, baby…tell me this isn’t what I think it is.” His raw plea breaks my heart.
I want to say so many things, but where do I start? This wasn’t supposed to happen, but it did. My silence is the answer Sam needs. The blood whooshing through my ears is deafening, it’s almost painful to breathe.
“Sam…” I’m unable to finish however because Sam storms over to where Saxon stands and slams his fist into his jaw. Saxon’s head snaps back with a sickening crack as he staggers backward. He spits out a mouthful of blood and grins murderously.
“You motherfucker!” Sam roars, advancing forward, hitting Saxon over and over and over again. Saxon appears to take the beatings, not fighting back.
“No!” I try and break them up, but Sam pushes me aside, intent on drawing more blood. I fall on my behind, a hand flying to my mouth as I watch Sam beat Saxon to a bloody pulp.
“Fight me!” Sam shouts, delivering an uppercut that knocks Saxon to the floor. He kicks him in the ribs, the stomach, the face. Saxon remains silent however, and if I didn’t know better, I’d say he was accepting this beating as punishment for what we’ve done. But if that’s the case, then I deserve this beating as much as him.
“Sam, stop! Please! You’ll kill him! No!” My plea falls on deaf ears as Sam continues beating him, only content when he’s dead. The sound of Saxon’s pained grunts as he bravely accepts his fate is my undoing.
I can’t stand by and watch this act of violence. Without a second thought, I run over to Saxon and shield his curled body with my own. I throw my arms around him, protecting him just as he has protected me.
“Lucy, move!” Sam bellows, his anger burning all the way to my center.
“No!” My reply comes out muffled, as I’m cocooned around Saxon’s limp form. “Stop it. Leave him a-alone.” I frantically kiss his temple, his cheeks, his hair, I need to feel him, need to make sure he’s okay. When he inhales deeply, my body sags in relief. “I’m sorry,” I whimper into his ear. “This changes nothing between us.” It’s what I should have said when he asked me this question before. “I…love…you. Please forgive me.”
“I…love you… too.” Those broken words are all I need to hear.
I’m hugging Saxon with all my might and only become aware that Sam has left when a bloodcurdling scream fills the heavens and my name is repeated with an agonizing howl. I know I have to let go—just for now. I remove my body from Saxon’s and cover my mouth as Samuel’s anguished wails break my heart. It’s ripped from the center of my chest and stomped on as he begs for me to explain what’s going on.
But how can I choose? I’m torn.
Saxon makes the choice for me. “Go to him.” He limply raises his hand, gliding his pointer along the apple of my cheek.
I blink back my tears. “What?” Surely I didn’t hear him correctly.
However, when he attempts to sit upright and stubbornly points to the door, I know I heard him just fine. “I’m…okay.” The pause between his affirmation highlights the deception. So does the fact he’s clutching his side, breathing heavily through his nose.
“You are not okay,” I just as determinedly state. “Let me help you.” I’m thankful he allows me to steady him as he sways to the left. He squeezes his eyes shut, swallowing hard. The deep furrowing along his brow reveals he’s in a lot of pain, but he breathes through it, planting his palm on the floor to ground him. I wait, never breaking contact, never wanting to let him go.
Saxon’s eyes spring open and he looks at me, forlornly. “I’m not leaving you,” I exclaim, shaking my head as I recognize that look. He wants me to choose. Well, I choose him.
He reads my grim resolution and of course, fights me. “I’m fine. Samuel needs you more than I do right now. I just need to catch my breath. I’ll be out there in a minute.”
“Saxon,” I gasp, eyes widening. Why is he pushing me away? “I’m not going a-anywhere.” I fumble over my words, a breakdown looming.
“Lucy, just go. Go…before he does something stupid.” The guilt of what we did slashes at his face. Regardless of Sam’s sins, Saxon will always look after his little brother.
I reach out for him, tears stinging my eyes. “Saxon—”
“Lucy, please…” A tear trickles down my cheek when I hear Sam’s pleas. “He doesn’t remember. He has no idea what’s going on. If he hurts himself because of us…because of what I did… I will never forgive myself…and neither will you.”
We both understand that regardless of our feelings, Sam needs us. He may not deserve our compassion, but we’d never forgive ourselves if we abandoned him when he needed us the most.
Bending forward, I tenderly kiss Saxon’s cheek. A heavy weight settles in the pit of my stomach because I know now that Sam remembers— this is the beginning of the end.
“I love you.”
Saxon smiles, but it’s bittersweet. “I love you, too…little Lucy Tucker.”
Sniffing back my tears, I charge outside. The harsh sunlight stops me in my tracks. Shielding my eyes, I desperately search for Sam. I don’t have far to look. He’s slumped on his knees in the middle of the yard, looking completely and utterly alone as he turns his head from left to right, searching the grounds for…me.
This is the moment I’ve been waiting for—for Sam to remember who I was, to remember what we had. I just wanted things to go back to the way they were. But now that my wish has been granted…all I want is for him to forget.