“Connor?” She asks for him, groggy still. She feels his hand squeeze hers as her awareness returns to her body.
“I’m right here, Sunshine. I got you.”
Connor is sitting at her bedside with a bloodstained shirt. His face shows he’s been through hell.
“Where’s Marla?”
Connor’s face turns dark. “Don’t worry about her. You’re safe now.”
“I...I feel strange. I’m so sleepy.”
“That’s the meds they gave you. You’ve been out for eight hours. She cut your arm pretty bad. And your face. But I had the best plastic surgeon in the city take care of your wounds. You’ll never know they were there.”
“Connor, I don’t care about the plastic surgeon. What the hell happened? How did she know where we were? Why do you still have that shirt on?”
“It was me. I’m how she knew where we were,” painful guilt paints his face as he continues, “She called me repeatedly on my way into the city, and I finally just lost it. When I was hanging up on her, I said I just wanted to enjoy my meal at Saison. I can’t believe I did something so obviously stupid. I never make mistakes like that. I put you in horrible danger. You lost so much blood.” Connor looks away for a few moments. “The truth is I did this. I’m the reason you’re in this hospital bed,” and with this Connor stands up. “I’m so sorry. I can’t put you in any further danger.” He kisses her hand and walks out of the room before Samantha can say anything.
Samantha is stunned. What just happened, she wonders, still partly sedated. A moment later, the reality of everything settles in. She can feel her wounds start to ache. But, the hurt she feels the most is the hole Connor just cut into her heart.
***
Connor doesn’t answer her calls or emails, but he sends a personal chef, a maid, and a nurse to help during her recovery. Weekly, Margaret brings Arabella over to visit her, and though seeing the little girl reminds her of Connor, her bright energy is refreshing, and Samantha is thankful to have her around. By the time Samantha’s wounds are healed enough to return to work, Connor is in Hong Kong. He supposedly has a business, but she knows better.
On her bed at the city house, she finds a mahogany box with all the tokens and mementos she’s given him. A pink and blue seashell from a weekend trip to Catalina Island. Photo booth pictures of them together when they took Arabella up to the Seattle house. A mock ad she’d drawn up that advertises his powerful shoulders as the cure-all for a bad day. A braided locket of her hair with a small yellow daisy tied into the ribbon. The wound in Samantha’s heart opens up all over again. Her chest feels like it’s caving in on itself like she is an earthquake shaking the world out of place. She slumps down on the bed and sobs like she hasn’t since her mother died. She cries all night.
The next morning she gets up and resolves to move forward, no matter what. She focuses on Arabella, and in the evenings she looks through job ads both in San Francisco and in the other major cities across the country. She goes on this way for two months. The late summer heat grows unbearable in the city, and Samantha decides to take Arabella to the country house for a week. Arabella falls asleep in the car. Samantha carries her up to her bedroom. As she comes out of Arabella’s room, Connor walks out of his.
Both stunned, they stand there, staring at each other for a moment. Then, without a word, Connor turns around and walks down the stairs. Samantha is speechless. She stands there staring at the empty air where his body had been. A thousand thoughts swirl in her head, and she feels anger and hurt well up. How could he just walk away like that? Before her brain is conscious of the choice, her feet run after him.
He is halfway across the orchard by the time she sees him. He’s heading to the boathouse. She calls after him, but he keeps walking without turning around.
The boathouse door is shut. She stands in front of it for a few moments. Should I just walk away? Should I leave it at this? A box of returned treasures and an awkward silent showdown in the hallway? But, she just can’t and pushes the door open. Connor is winding rope into tidy bundles with his back to the door. The swift movement of his hands stalls for a moment at the sound of Samantha stepping inside and shutting the door.
Samantha pulls her shoulders back. She takes a breath, and says, “Connor, you need to speak with me. You can’t just run away from me like a child. We are a part of each other’s lives, at least for a little bit longer.”
Silence.
She continues, now feeling anger rise, “Do you think just because you’re avoiding me, I’m going to quietly slink away?”
Silence.
More emotion rises in her voice, “In one month I am leaving San Francisco for good.”
Connor stops winding the rope. He slowly puts it down on the table in front of him. He looks out through the window.
“CONNOR CLARK TURN AROUND AND LOOK AT ME, DAMNIT!” Her voice cracks at the end. All the sadness she’s been carrying collides with the anger of his behavior today. She wants to beat him senseless and cry in his arms, all at the same time. She holds back her tears.
Connor wipes away a single tear as he turns around to face her. Their eyes meet for the first time in two months. Even through his tough exterior, she can see his insides are like a sea thrashing in a storm.
“Where are you moving?” he asks gently.
Big hot tears roll down her face. She wipes them away quickly, stands a little taller, and maintains a normal speaking voice. “Chicago.”
“Why Chicago?”
“I got a job there. In advertising.”
He looks down at his feet and smiles. “Good for you,” he says genuinely. He looks back up at her. “Way to go, Samantha.”
“Yeah.” Samantha searches his face for understanding. “I don’t--” she’s looking for words. “I’m not--” she’s stuck with so much to say and no way to do it.
“I’m so sorry, Samantha. I never meant for you to get hurt.”
“Getting hurt is a part of life.”
“Your cheek looks great. No scar.”
“Is that the hurt you’re talking about?” she asks in disbelief. “You’re kidding, right? Who cares about my face! You ditched me.”
Connor takes a step forward, and with a raised voice says, “I didn’t ditch you. I was protecting you!”
“Oh please!” Samantha says with anger, “There were other choices where you could have still protected me from Marla without totally abandoning me. No, what you did was get freaked out and consumed with guilt, and then you left me. Literally in a hospital room.” Samantha takes a step forward and is gesturing strongly with her hands. She has been holding this in for so long, and her face shows it. “Why did you even get out at the hospital? Why didn’t you just slow the car down by the entrance and roll me out?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Samantha.”
“I AM NOT RIDICULOUS!” she shouts. She takes a breath, and she continues more calmly, “I am not ridiculous. I am bright and focused and funny and I have legs that run all the way down to the floor, Mr. Clark. And I do not deserve to be brushed aside with a chef and some maid service as a consolation prize.”
“No, you don’t,” he mumbles.
“What was that?” she prods.
“I said, no, you don’t,” he says and looks her straight in the eyes.
They look at each other for several moments. Connor looks like he’s barely holding something in. He continues, “No, you’re right, you don’t deserve this. Any of it. I just don’t know how to fix it. I’ve done the best I can.”
“Do better,” she commands.
He looks at her with some surprise, almost delight. After a moment of considering her, he continues, “How can someone so small, so fragile, carry such power? And, such power over me?”
“What are you talking about? I obviously don’t have any power over you. I can barely get you to talk to me--”
“I love you, Samantha,” he says, cutting her off. “I love you. I am in love with you. I love you so damn much I can hardly b
reathe sometimes.”
Samantha is speechless. He’s never spoken these words.
Connor continues, “Do you think walking away from you was easy for me?” His words are growing more urgent. He takes another step closer to her, and now they only stand four feet apart. “No! It was the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do. In my life. And remember, I was once married to Marla!” He takes another step. “But you, you are the most amazing, most wondrous thing to happen to me in a long time, and when I saw you lying on the ground, blood spilling out everywhere, and then you lost consciousness,” he closes his eyes with the pain of the memory, “there was a moment when I thought I’d lost you. I thought I had been part of killing you.”
Samantha finds her voice again, “But you weren’t! Not only was it not your fault, I am still here. I am still alive. That’s because of you.”
“But, I am the one who led Marla to you in the first place!”
“Connor, listen to me carefully.” She takes a step toward him, and continues slowly and deliberately, “Marla is mentally ill. She is unstable, violent and, as the police tell me, is now locked away at a very posh mental hospital. Indefinitely.” She takes another step closer, and they are now standing so close another body couldn’t fit between them.
Connor looks down into her eyes.
Samantha continues, more quietly now, “This was not your fault. Even with telling her where you were going to be. It was not your fault. It was the work of a madwoman.”
She searches his eyes.
“Connor,” she begins and searches for words, then continues softly, “I love you too.”
His face breaks into disbelief, into gratitude, and finally into abandon. Connor grabs Samantha’s waist and kisses her passionately like he’s starving for her lips. They grab at each other--hands reaching into hair, pulling at the backs of heads, cupping faces, with the moans of desperation spilling out of them. Connor lifts her up, and she wraps her legs around his waist, as he pushes her up against the wall. Fused together, they are a fire reignited and blindingly bright. Long and deep, melting into each other, they finally pull away just enough to look into each other’s eyes. They laugh a little and gaze with awe. It is such a relief to have each other again.
After a moment, Connor says, “Don’t go. Don’t move two time zones away.”
“I don’t want to go, Connor,” she says reluctantly, “but it’s also a really good job. And in my field.”
“So stay. Stay and take a better job.”
“I already tried to find a job here. It’s just not happening.”
“Y’know, I happen to have my own advertising department, ” he says with a smirk.
“I can’t just take a job because I’m your girlfriend.”
“Then take the job because you’ve earned it.”
“What are you talking about?”
“Remember that shoulders ad you made for me? I showed it to my head of advertising.”
“You what?!” Samantha exclaims.
“I showed it to her, and I’m not sorry,” he’s beaming now. “She was intrigued and asked to see more. So, I sent her the link to your portfolio.”
“You didn’t!”
“Of course I did,” he says proudly. “She saw what I see. Incredible talent and creativity. She said as soon as I’m ready to give up my superstar nanny, she’s ready to hire you.”
Samantha squeals with glee and then kisses him wildly. They lose themselves in each other. Connor pushes the rope aside and sits her on the table, and they begin peeling each other’s clothes off.
CHAPTER TWELVE
(One Month Later)
Samantha drops her keys on the entryway table, puts her briefcase down, and kicks off her heels. She calls up the stairs, “Connor, Arabella, I’m home!” Arabella, followed by her nanny, runs down the stairs and throws herself into Samantha’s arms.
“What did you bring me!” The little girl is bouncing up and down.
Samantha reaches into the pocket of her gray pinstripe pants and pulls out a little flower made of paperclips. “For you, my little lovely,” she says with a big smile and hands the flower to the adoring child. “Where’s Daddy?”
“In the pool,” she replies.
Samantha ruffles Arabella’s hair and strolls into a nearby room. Connor is swimming laps in an Olympic size indoor pool. Samantha flashes the lights on and off to get his attention. When she has it, he swims to the edge of the pool, gets out, and towels off.
“How was your day at the office, my love?” he asks and then gives her a kiss.
“Excellent. I’m learning so much. And they put me in charge of the interns.”
“Already managing, I see. Your boss better watch out,” he teases.
“It was great. I’m so excited for these little interns.”
“Just be sure you don’t get too excited and run off with one of them,” he says with a wink.
Samantha puts on her dirty little girl face, looks up at Connor and says, “Now why would I go and do something like that, when I have a big strong daddy waiting for me here at home.”
Connor pulls her to him, leans her back, and kisses her deeply.
THE END
Never Forgotten
Chapter 1
“I have to go!” I shouted, pushing the mail back and forth on the counter, looking for the keys. “Why can’t you just put them where they belong?”
My mom stood in the doorway, her arms folded. Loose strands of hair hung into her face. She was starting to gray but Mama had started to look run down a long time ago.
“Don’t take that tone with me, Joanna,” she said. “It’s still my car.”
I narrowed my eyes at her.
“And this is my job. I have to be on time for us to get out of this dump at all.”
She didn’t answer me. I finally found the keys.
“I can only be back by seven, maybe later,” I said. “You’re going to have to take the bus to get Lydia to work.”
My younger sister was just out of school with a job at the diner. We needed the money. She’d missed a scholarship with two percent but this was life and life sucked. If you let it get you down you would lie on your face forever.
So far, I was the only one that had made it to college in my family. I had taken it upon myself to care for them. Mama was a nurse, Lydia was a waitress now and as soon as Cindy finished school she would get a job, too. Every bit of money helped but it never seemed enough.
I was going to make it. I was going to have for us enough.
“I’m leaving,” I said and walked away.
I slammed the door on the chaos that dragged me down and walked to the car.
I’d gotten the job. I was a Legal Assistant. It wasn’t exactly the amazing job as a lawyer that I’d wanted but there was room for growth. If I proved myself to them they would bump me up – it was a promise. And it was a job. It was so much harder to come by a job than I’d ever thought it would be. I’d gotten through college knowing that I wanted to make a difference in the world, only to realize that there weren’t all that many open doors.
A Legal Assistant was the closest I could find.
It was good enough for now. I would prove myself. As soon as I had my foot in there I could prove to them I was the lawyer they were looking for and everything would be the way I’d imagined it to be as a child. I would have money. We could get out of the house that had sunken on itself. We could find a new life.
I got into the car I shared with my mom and turned the key in the ignition. The car coughed and whined.
“Come on, come on,” I urged. I needed it to start. I couldn’t afford to miss my first day at work.
The car spluttered to life and I let out the breath I’d been holding. I floored it, pulling the car out of the driveway and out of the neighborhood where I’d grown up. The streets were still empty this early in the morning. It would be a while, still, before the others in our neighborhood crawled out of their holes.
This
was my big break. This was my ticket to a new life. If I worked hard enough I could become one of the best lawyers, I could make partner if I was lucky, I could make sure Mama and my two sisters had a life for themselves. Maybe one day, I wouldn’t have to look after them, anymore. I loved my family and I would do anything for them, but sometimes I felt trapped. If being a Legal Assistant was the first step to winning my freedom, so be it.
Most women look toward a man for support, for a life they can relax in. Not me. Men were assholes. When I’d been young and stupid, just finishing high school, I had given myself to a boy. He’d been my everything. He’d been wild and free when I’d been trapped in a life that hadn’t suited me. He’d been rebellious when I’d been suffocated by rules. He’d looked at me when no one else would notice me. I’d given my heart to him first, and later, my body.
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