Chapter 3

The bitterness rose in my chest. Samuel really does treat everyone like that now, but he didn't used to with me.

I pinched the ache down and looked at Megan Thompson.

"You really want me to come help pick a wedding planner? If you actually need me, I'll go," I asked.

Megan nodded fast. "Of course. Totally."

We traded a couple of polite lines, and I saw them to the door.

That night, Samuel called me.

He told me to go with him to the wedding company tomorrow.

I clenched the phone so hard my fingers ached.

Part of me just wanted to hear his voice.

Part of me was shaking.

It had been seven years since I'd listened to him like that, just us on the line.

Back then, I'd hide under the covers every night and fall asleep to that rich, low voice of his.

I was slipping into the memory when a woman's voice floated through on his end. "Samuel, come help me blow-dry my hair."

I snapped back. "Yeah."

He hung up the second I answered.

The dead beeps in my ear cracked something open, and the tears came fast. I thought I was ready.

Seeing it, hearing it, knowing he belonged to someone else anyway still made my chest ache like it might split.

Samuel had told me to meet him at 10 a.m.

I was so nervous that I had my mom wheel me downstairs at 9:30 to wait.

I waited until noon. No Samuel. He even declined my calls.

Mom told me to go back up, more than once. I wouldn't.

Getting out had taken everything I had. After this, I might not make it out again.

At one, he finally called to say they were coming down.

Mom was mad, and I talked her down until she could keep a straight face.

The second I got in the car, Megan giggled at me. "Sorry, Jessica. Samuel kept me up too late last night. Couldn't get out of bed this morning."

My palm tightened in my lap.

Samuel stowed my wheelchair, slid into the driver's seat, glanced at me in the rearview, then said to Megan, cool as ice, "Why are you explaining anything to her."

The sting came back, but I just lifted my hand and waved at Mom on the curb.

He drove fast, hard, like he had something to prove. My stomach rolled.

Seven years ago, when he first got his license, he'd take his dad's car and drive me around. He knew I got carsick, so he always kept it smooth.

Taxis made me nauseous, buses made me worse. With Samuel, I never once got sick.

He slammed the brakes. I couldn't brace. I hit the backrest and my stomach lurched up my throat.

A little sound broke out of me.

He laughed under his breath. "Jessica, you don't actually think I'm still gonna baby you like I did seven years ago, do you? No shifting, no braking."

I wiped the corner of my eye and kept my voice even. "No. You should be gentle with Megan now. She's your girlfriend."

He snorted. "You're not wrong."

He stomped the gas again.

I hit the seat hard, my back lighting up.

And I smiled.

If there was hate, there was something. At least while I was still here, somewhere in Samuel's heart, I still took up the tiniest bit of space.