Page 35 of Chasing the Other Woman

There’s no big declaration. No God, Sam. I missed you so much and I couldn’t bear to spend another day without you near me.

Still, the fact that he came does something to me. It shouldn’t. He’s told me nothing.

“It did,” I say. “That still doesn’t explain why you came.”

“I needed to know you were okay.”

I almost tell him that he could have called or texted, but then I remember that he had and I hadn't seen fit to answer any of those calls.

“Well, I am. I’ve been fine.”

That’s a lie.

Still, he looks me over. I try to imagine what he sees. I no doubt look like a woman who hasn’t showered in over twenty-four hours and has been doing her best to keep a small town from imploding.

I certainly don’t look young or blonde or perfect.

Like some people.

Someone calls my name from behind me. I turn to see a deputy carrying two cases of water. “Where do you want these?”

“Over by the jukebox. Make sure they’re not in the walk path, though. Don’t want anyone tripping over them.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

Brooks watches him go. Hershel says something under his breath about making sure the jukebox isn’t offensive and then disappears from Brooks’s side.

“You always knew how to take charge of a situation,” he says. There’s admiration there, but the only thing I can see is him sidelining me. Him taking me out of the field. Him replacing me.

“That why you benched me?”

I shouldn’t revel in the way he flinches at the words. Still, I do.

“I deserve that.”

“Yeah. You do.”

“I’m not here to make you come home, Sam.”

For some stupid reason, the words hurt. Because there was a part of me that wanted him to do exactly that. To tell me that he couldn’t go on without me. That he missed waking up beside me, even if we’d grown further and further apart over the past two years.

“I just needed to put eyes on you. I needed to know you were okay.”

I swallow, unsure whether I should feel hope in those words or the chasm between us widening.

“I guess you know now, if that’s all you wanted.”

“Sam.”

Over his shoulder, the door to the bar opens once again and this time it’s Tony stepping in. He lifts a hand toward me and I wave back.

Then, behind him, she comes in.

Just like always, she looks like she managed to stop by the hair and makeup trailer before she ventured out into the storm.

My mind floods with all the memories of the things I’ve seen over the past week. Brooks heeding her call instead of mine. Him holding her in the clinic, watching me over her shoulder. The social media clips of them together, him smiling down at her like she’d restored something within him.

Brooks follows my gaze and, amazingly, his face grows pinched.