Heaven and Hell (64 page)

That hurt. It shouldn’t but it did.

Then again, everything about losing Sam
hurt.

Since Sam left me, I struggled with my
decision. I wondered if I didn’t give it enough time, enough
effort, enough patience, my mind consumed with what I might have
tried, what I could have done to break through.

But lying in bed every night, tears sliding
from my eyes, I knew. I knew that if Sam could see me come home
from my long walk on the beach and know I came to the conclusion I
came to and still not give me what I needed, he’d accept this. No
amount of time, effort and patience was going to give me all of
Sam.

I also gave a serious amount of headspace to
considering if I should just take Sam as he could give himself to
me. This was harder to come to grips with. What he gave would be
enough for any woman much less me who only had Cooter as a
comparison.

But something in my heart was telling me it
wouldn’t work. Resentment would build. Ugliness would form. I
didn’t want what Sam and I had to move in that direction. That
would hurt worse.

And, bottom line, walking out on your woman
to do whatever it was he intended to do without explanation, even
minimal, well, that shit was not right.

So there I was, in England, with my friends,
discovering new things, in the loving company of Celeste and
Thomas, trying to mend my heart.

But at that moment, I really didn’t want to
be out on the streets doing what I was going to be doing but
Celeste encouraged me to do so. Then Thomas did.

I was at the Tate Modern museum the day
before when I met him. We struck up a conversation. He heard my
accent, I told him I was in London for a few weeks, he told me he’d
lived in London for thirty-three years and then he suggested we
should meet for coffee so he could tell me what to see that
tourists didn’t normally see. Before I knew what was happening, we
had plans to meet for coffee the next day.

I wanted to stand him up. But when I told
Celeste about it, she encouraged me to go. Then she told Thomas and
he encouraged me to go. Since it was Celeste and Thomas, they were
wise, they cared about me and I cared about them, I really couldn’t
say no.

And anyway, I didn’t have the strength left
to fight them on it so there I was, going.

When I got to the area he told me the café
was, I got a little lost. I was about to give up (and, truthfully,
I didn’t try very hard before deciding to give up) when I saw the
café.

Damn.

Right. Whatever. It was just a cup of coffee
with a guy I met at a museum. And anyway, I wanted to see the
London not many tourists got to see. Even Celeste and Thomas hadn’t
been living there long enough to show that to me.

I moved inside and as I did, that feeling
came back that I had eyes on me. I looked over my shoulder and
again saw nothing but rushing Londoners and clueless-looking
tourists.

What was up with me?

I shook it off, turned into the café and saw
him.

Then it hit me I didn’t remember his
name.

Shit.

Was it Jason? Jacob? Jeremy?

Shit!

He smiled at me, rising from his seat.

Shit.

Okay, just do this.

I smiled back and moved through the café.
When I got there, he surprised me by rounding the table then
getting in my space. Not
way
in my space but more than a
fifteen minute conversation in front of a totally weird
installation in an internationally known museum should allow. His
hand came to my waist, his head bent in and his lips swept my
cheek.

It was then I felt a burning intensity that
was totally,
totally
weird. Like two laser beams were
searing with pinpoint precision in my back.

I pulled away, moved back instantly, turned
and glanced through the busy café.

Nothing.

Seriously, what was the matter with me?

I looked back at Jason/Jacob/Jeremy. That
lip sweep was not a cheek touch or even a lip touch. It was
more.

I saw the warmth in his eyes as he murmured,
“Kia.”

Oh hell, he thought this was a date.

Shit!

“Uh… hi,” I replied then made a decision.
“I… you…” Damn. What did I say? “Well, I’m so sorry but I’d agreed
to meet you without talking to my friend, Celeste. She made plans
for us this afternoon and I don’t have much time. You and I didn’t
exchange numbers so I couldn’t call you and I didn’t want you
sitting here, waiting for me and not knowing what had become of me.
I’m so sorry but I only have a few minutes to have a cup of coffee
with you. I hope you don’t mind.”

Jason/Jacob/Jeremy minded; I could see it in
the flash of irritation in his eyes.

Whatever.

I didn’t have enough energy for
Jason/Jacob/Jeremy’s irritation either.

“I’ll just run and get a latte,” I told him
then, as he was opening his mouth probably to be a gentleman and
offer to buy one for me which would make this friendly meeting into
a semi-kinda-date, I dashed to the counter, stood in line and
bought a small latte.

Then I went back to the table and quizzed
him about what I should see in London. This lasted fifteen minutes.
Several times, he attempted to ask questions about me or steer us
in other directions but I kept him on target. I also sucked back my
latte as fast as I could.

After the final sip, I quickly and rudely
stood, announcing, “I know this is rude and thank you for giving
your time to me. I really appreciate it. But I have to go. I’m so
sorry.”

Then I stuck my hand at him, his head jerked
to the side then he stood, disappointment on his face, and his hand
closed around mine.

This kind of sucked. Standing there, his
warm hand in mine, I noticed his grip was strong. I also noticed he
was cute. Blond. A couple of inches taller than me. Nice eyes that
were very blue. He dressed well in a layered, have to be ready for
anything London type of way. He was nice as far as I could tell.
And he was into me.

I just couldn’t go there. Not now. Not for
awhile. Hopefully someday but at that moment or in any moment the
last month, I wasn’t feeling good about that possibility.

And it was then that I got what Luci said
about Gordo. Sam ruined me. The problem was, Sam was still
breathing so I figured it was going to be just as hard as it was
for Luci to move on. Maybe harder.

Jason/Jacob/Jeremy regained my attention by
saying, “It was nice to meet you, Kia.”

He got the message. He didn’t ask for my
number. He didn’t ask to meet again. He knew he wasn’t getting
anywhere.

I debated telling him that the most
beautiful, wonderful, sweet, loyal, fabulous man in the world broke
my heart just a month ago so he would get it wasn’t him, it was
me.

But I decided I probably couldn’t do that
without bursting into tears so I figured I should just save him
time and get the heck out of there.

“Thank you for having a cup of coffee with
me. Take care,” I whispered.

Then I smiled. Then I pulled my hand from
his warm grasp.

Then I got the hell out of there.

Luckily, it still wasn’t raining.
Nevertheless, I rushed back to Celeste and Thomas’s. It was only a
ten minute walk but I didn’t want to get caught in the rain. The
wet seemed to hang in the air, waiting, threatening. It could
happen any minute.

But also, Celeste and Thomas were away for
the day, doing something with the team Thomas oversaw at work and
their spouses. So I had the house to myself. I wasn’t good with
being alone, alone made my heart hurt (more) and the thoughts that
invaded when I was alone made my head hurt (more) but I was in the
mood. I might even call Luci. We had only chatted briefly a couple
of times because Luci got just as angry at Sam as Skip was when I
called her from Indiana to tell her what was going on and I wasn’t
in a place to deal with that. Now, maybe, I was strong enough to
tell her I wasn’t and she could fill me in on what was happening
with her.

That would be good. Take my mind off
things.

I left the busy sidewalks, moved through the
less busy residential section and the feeling came back that
someone was watching me. No, it was more than that. It felt like
someone was following me. I looked again but couldn’t see anything.
Then I wondered if I should look at all. If some weird person was
following me, maybe I shouldn’t let on that I knew they were
there.

Maybe I should just get my behind to Celeste
and Thomas’s, get inside and lock the door.

So I quickened my pace trying not to look
like I was. But by the time I got up the steps to their white
Georgian house, I was freaked out. It was silly, no one was
following me, that was ridiculous but I still was freaked out.
Totally.

God, I needed to get myself together. I was
becoming paranoid.

What was up with that?

I’d reached into my purse and pulled out the
keys two doors before Celeste and Thomas’s so they were at the
ready. But my hands were shaking as I tried to insert the key in
the latch. Therefore, I dropped them, squelched an expletive and
bent to retrieve them.

When I straightened, my shoulder slammed
into something hard.

Oh God, no. Someone
was
following
me.

A surprised, small cry escaped my lips and
my head twisted just as I felt the keys ripped from my hand. Fear
coursed through me, I was preparing to do something defensive, I
had no clue what, when my eyes hit Sam.

Sam.

A stony-faced, infuriated Sam.

Oh. My.
God.

Before I knew it and without a word, the
latch was open, the door was open and Sam’s big body was crowding
me into Celeste and Thomas’s entry hall. Sam pushed the door closed
behind us, the latch caught but I didn’t even get my mouth open
before his long fingers curled around my bicep and he propelled me
down the hall and into the first room on the left, the sitting
room. He pulled me in, let me go and turned to close the door.

I backed across the room.

He turned back to me and his eyes seared
into me.

I stopped dead.

“You’re… fucking…
dating?
” he
clipped.

Oh shit.

It was
Sam
who was following me.

“No,” I whispered.

“Sweetheart, saw you meet him, saw him touch
you, saw you drink coffee with him. He crashed and burned but that
was not two friends having a fuckin’
chat.
”

Oh man.

He was angry. Really angry.

He was also here.

What was he doing here?

Following me!

Forcing his way into Celeste and Thomas’s
home and being angry at me!

“What are you doing here?” I asked quietly,
unable to make my voice louder, hardly able to catch a thought.
Heck, hardly able
to breathe.

“What am I doing here?” Sam repeated.

“Yes,” I said. “What are you doing
here?”

“You’re here,” Sam stated and there it went.
My breath. Gone.

It took effort but I forced oxygen into my
lungs and asked cautiously, “Didn’t you get my note?”

“Oh yeah,” he murmured in a way that sent
chills up my spine, his eyes changing in a way that scared the
beejeezus out of me and he took a step toward me. “I got your
fuckin’
note.
”

I stepped back, my entire body trembling. He
saw it and stopped.

“I won’t hurt you, Kia, and you fuckin’ know
that,” he growled, close to the edge, I knew it by his face, his
posture, the energy vibrating off him and his tone.

“No I don’t, Sam, because you already did,
you’ve all but destroyed me but you didn’t lift a hand to me to do
it.”

Yes. That was what I said. It came right
out.

His head jerked then he stared at me, the
anger shifting clean from his features and I saw him swallow.

I reached inwardly for everything I had,
gathered it close, straightened my spine but still only managed to
whisper, “I can’t do it. We’re over. I can’t give everything and
get pieces. I can’t live with secret phone conversations and you
taking off for parts unknown. I loved what we had, I tried to live
with it, I thought it was enough, but it wasn’t. Living every day
with another secret. Knowing the day before there were more.
Wondering if the next day will mean you’ll walk away from me.
Understanding in my heart that you can’t trust me with pieces of
your life. I know they’re dark but I don’t care. I didn’t just want
your light, your power, your strength. I wanted all of you. I asked
for it. I fought for it. But you kept it from me and you did it
willingly knowing I needed it. I’m sorry, Sam, I’ve made my
decision. I thought I could do it but I was wrong. It’s all or
nothing.”

He didn’t speak.

I did.

“I’m sorry.” It was my turn to swallow then
I forced out, “You need to leave.”

Sam didn’t move.

I waited.

He still didn’t move. Not a muscle. Not even
his eyes leaving me.

God. Really. He had to get out of there. He
was killing me.

“Really,” I whispered and the word broke in
the middle. Sam closed his eyes the instant he heard it but I
pushed past it, somehow managed to keep my shit together and went
on, “Please, Sam, just go.”

He opened his eyes and they locked on me,
the intensity was there, more than ever before which was saying
something. It was firing his eyes so blazing it was a wonder the
room didn’t catch fire.

“Go,” I whispered.

Sam didn’t move.

I was losing the battle with my emotion. I
wasn’t strong enough for this. I hadn’t had enough time to get to
that place and tears filled my eyes.

“Please,” I begged brokenly, “just
fucking go.
”

I couldn’t stop it and a tear slid down my
cheek.

Sam watched it go.

Then his eyes shot to mine.