Ch. 19

Sam's POV

I lay in Marc's arm, cradled against his side as we sit in silence, absentmindedly lightly running my fingernails up and down his arms, a habit of mine. I snuggle up closer to him, wanting to feel that feeling.. the indescribable one I use to get when he held me just like this. I wish and beg for that feeling to come, try and will for it to occur, but I get nothing, as if my heart's gone cold. Although I know it hasn't, because I'm very much alive, and my heart contains a much different feeling inside of it, for a much different man than the one lying next to me. My hand stops moving as an instantaneous shiver runs up my spine. My eyes cloud with water as I realize that another man holds that feeling now..

Marc notices how I tense up and shifts in response to reposition us. He clears his throat before speaking.

"Sam?" he asks timidly. I close my eyes, trying to get my thoughts together before I look up at him, seeing his eyes are filled with tears as well. He looks down at me, pain clear in his eyes. "It's him, isn't it." I stare up at him, not knowing what to do. I open my mouth up to speak, but nothing comes out. "You love him."

I sit there, looking at him for what feels like hours, running everything though my head before finally speaking up. "I'm so sorry, Marc," I answer in a small voice, tears finally pouring from my eyes. He gives me a single nod, confirming he's heard me before taking a deep sigh, kissing me on the head, and getting up out of the bed, leaving me in the room alone to cry myself to sleep.

Sid's POV

For the fourth night in a row, I drown my sorrows in a bottle of JD while watching late night TV. I know it's probably not the healthiest way to get over her, but it's the offseason, and I'm not concerned with being healthy at the moment. My eyes have dark circles around them from the lack of sleep I've been getting, but I can't force myself to try and get some rest. Every time I close my eyes her image haunts my dreams, leaving me restless and therefore doing me no more good than watching this old, pathetic 80s game show. I hear the doorbell ring and automatically look at the clock to confirm that it's after 2 AM. Tipping back my last gulp of liquor, I set my cup down on the coffee table before slowly getting up and making my way toward the door. As soon as I open it and see her standing there, I automatically go to shut it, but her reflexes are too good and she beats me to it, opening the door all the way back up and walking in, so I turn and walk back toward the couch, deciding I have nothing to say.

"Sidney?" she asks, knowing I won't answer in return. I fumble back into the living room, looking for the remote before heading back toward the couch. "Sid?" she calls again, and this time I look at her, let her see the pain and agony in my eyes. She knows me well, notices this and it causes her lips to fall silent. But she's stubborn, and I know she's not done with me yet. "What's wrong?" she asks.

"What's wrong? Do you really have to ask?" I scoff, watching her walk her way towards me. She reaches out for me, but I shy away.

"Sid," she asks again in pleading eyes. I stare right back at her, anger seeping out of my gaze.

"I love you," I answer, not breaking our eye contact. "Loved," I add with a shrug of my shoulders.

"Loved?" she questions.

"Yeah Samantha, loved," I reiterate. "I don't know when it happened, or why it happened, the fact is I've loved you for a long time, I don't know when it started." I add, sitting back and thinking about it for myself. "Maybe it was that time we were skating on the pond and you hit thin ice and me and Jack pulled you out, maybe it was when you let us talk you into thinking climbing that tree was a good idea, or maybe it was when strapped pillows to you with duct tape and you were our goalie, I don't know," I say with a sigh, thinking back on how many good times her, Jack, and I had. "I'm not sure. The days are a blur, but I remember you. And how you've always been a pain in my ass, even to this day. And you're crazy, most of the time. And you can be wrong a lot of the times and you definitely know how to drive me completely crazy. But I've realized that I need you. That I trust you. That I admire you. That yes, I love you, Sam." I finished before looking into her eyes one last time before sitting back down on the couch and turning my back to her. After a few seconds, I hear her sniffling.

"I'm wrong most of the time?" she asks. I can't help myself, I turn over my shoulder and look and her and nod my head. "I'm not wrong about you," she continues, walking toward me while tears run down her face before sitting down across from me on the coffee table. "I love you, too."

The End.