“I have to go,” I say, hanging up on Bas. “Sam, that’s not what I meant.” I follow him back inside, dragging my heart behind me.
“Don’t worry about it,” he says, sitting down on the couch.
“Sam, please, you know that’s not what I meant.”
“It’s fine, it doesn’t matter.” He folds his hands together and pulls them up to his mouth.
“Yes, it does matter.” I sit down next to him. “I’m sorry.” I reach for his arm. “I know that’s the last thing you needed to hear right now.”
“If that’s how you feel, it’s how you feel. I said don’t worry about it.” He stares blankly across the room.
“Don’t worry about it?” I huff. “All I can do is worry about it. All I can do is think about you fighting Carey Valentine in two months.” I drop my head to the side and look at his bruised face. “Look at you,” I cry, shaking my head.
“So, what, you don’t like the way I look now?”
“It’s not funny, Sam. Do you even know how many hits you took last night? Because I couldn’t keep count.”
He closes his eyes and drops his head back against the couch.
“Two months,” I say again. “That’s all we have left. Then everything changes, everything’s different. It’s not just about us anymore.”
“You think I don’t know that?” He looks at me and stands up. “You think I don’t know that?” he asks again, louder.
“I know you’re going through something right now, but—”
“What?” he shakes his head.
“You don’t have to admit it, because I know it.” I get up and stand in front of him. “I know you, Sam. Even if you wish I didn’t right now, I do. And I know you’re still dealing with Joe’s death. I know you haven’t been able to get past it. And I know that last night, it was all you could think about, because he wasn’t there. That’s why you fought the way you did.”
“The way I fought? The way I fought was to win. The way I fought was for everything I’ve worked for my whole fucking life. The way I fought was for Joe!”
“No…Joe wouldn’t have let you fight like that.”
“Let me fight like what?”
“Like you had nothing to lose,” I cry.
He pulls his hands to his head and runs his fingers through his wet hair. “I had everything to lose last night. Everything! My whole fucking career in one night!” he shouts, slapping his hands together.
“Your career,” I whisper, watching him drift further and further away from me.
“Do you know what it feels like to have everything you’ve worked for stripped away in a single moment? A moment that will be played for the world to see over and over and over again. A moment that will overshadow every accomplishment, every record, every title I’ve ever held. One moment”—he holds his finger up—“that destroyed everything. Do you know what that’s like?”
I blink back tears that sting my guarded eyes. “No, I don’t know what that’s like. But I know that it’s not everything.”
He puts his hands on his hips and drops his chin. “I don’t expect you to understand.”
I exhale a shocked breath. “Enlighten me.”
“Last night was what, the fifth fight you’ve been to? You haven’t been a part of this long enough to understand the magnitude of what losing the way I lost means.”
I release an incredulous breath and lock my armor into place. “Thanks for that reminder,” I say, blinking up at him. “I almost forgot that while you were out there building your career, I was watching through a microscope. I watched you win, I watched you get famous, I watched you sow your wild oats for the whole world to see.” I cross my arms over my round stomach and shake my head. “I’d almost completely forgotten about that.”
“That’s what you want to do right now? You want to compare lives while we were apart? All right, let’s talk about the fact that you almost married someone else. Let’s talk about that!” he shouts in his deep voice.
I turn around and stalk up the stairs.
“What, you can give it, but you can’t take it?”
I stop halfway up and put my hands on either side of my stomach. “Is this not enough for you? I’m carrying your child,” I cry. “Yours! Not Drew’s.” He stares at me and I stare back, and I wonder how we got here. “Maybe all this would be easier if I wasn’t.” I regret saying it as soon as the words leave my mouth.
“What did you say?”
The baby rolls inside my stomach and the guilt settles on my shoulders like a lead blanket. “I didn’t mean that.” I grip the brass railing and close my eyes. I’m sorry, I say to her, making a silent vow to never let anything come before her again. Including Sam. I can’t protect him from himself, but I can protect her.
“Yeah, well, maybe it would be.”
I open my watery eyes and force my heavy feet to carry me the rest of the way up the stairs, silently wincing through a Braxton Hicks contraction that turns my stomach into a tight ball.
Sam climbs up after me. “Lucy.”
“I think I’m going to stay with Sebastian for a little while when we get home,” I say, wiping my cheeks. “If Paul’s okay with it.”
“What?” He stares at me, but I can’t look at him.
I open my suitcase and start sorting through my clothes. “I think I just need some time to myself…away from everything for a little while.”
“Away from me?”
I steel my heart and look up at him.
His face is unreadable, but his chest is heaving up and down.
“Away from the stress. It’s not good for the baby,” I say honestly, choking back tears. “The house will be ready in a few weeks. Maybe it can be a fresh start.”
“A fresh start? You want to stay with Sebastian until we move?”
“It’s only a few weeks.”
“What about New York? The exhibit?”
“I think you need time too, Sam. I think…maybe I should go alone.”
He runs his hand through his hair. “See, that’s where you’re wrong…I don’t need time.”
“Yes you do, Sam.”
“No I don’t,” he says firmly, reaching for my arm. “I don’t need anything…except for you. Please, Lamb, don’t do this,” he pleads.
My stomach tightens again, but I ignore it. “I love you, Sam. I just need some time to catch my breath.”
He lets out a heavy sigh and his hands fall away. “Yeah,” he nods and looks at the floor. “If you think it’s best.” He looks up at me again with empty eyes. “Whatever’s best for the baby.”
I swallow hard and nod. “Okay.”
* * *
I lift my heavy head and turn my pillow over and cry into the other side. The early morning light that’s peeking through the covered window in Paul and Sebastian’s guest room tells me that I’ve cried myself into a new day. I pull the silky sheet up to my face and wipe my tears, but more come.