A Sea of Lies

by H Dillon Hunt

  Her shoulders start to shake softly as she tries, unsuccessfully, to fight back tears. I continue to try and soothe her, running my hand down her back and up again. I press my lips to the side of her head and to her forehead. I brush her hair out her face and run my fingers through it.

  “What have I done?” she whispers through her tears.

  Her voice breaks my heart. I don’t know what to do, but she’s shaking the way Elle used to when she had anxiety attacks. I lift her up and carry her into the living room, cradling her against my chest. I sit down on the couch and hold her as closely and tightly as I can while she gasps for breath.

  I don’t know how long we sit there, but I hold her until her tears dry and her arms are shaking from how tight she’s holding on to me.

  Slowly, she loosens her grip but won’t meet my gaze. Aubree doesn’t break down, she doesn’t show vulnerability. I want to be the person she can be vulnerable around. I want her to know that she’s safe with me. I cup her face in my hands and tilt it up towards mine. Her eyes drift closed and I can see the exhaustion etched into her features.

  I don’t need to ask, I know it’s her husband that’s got her this upset. I barely know anything about him, I don’t even know his name, but I do know that he treats her horribly. I know he cheats on her. And that’s unacceptable.

  What I don’t know is how someone as strong and full of life as the woman in my arms can put up with it. I don’t understand why she stays with him, and I can’t stand the thought of what he did to upset her this badly tonight.

  “Why don’t you stay here tonight.” It wasn’t a question. She nods, finally meeting my gaze. Her jewel-colored eyes flicker like a light turning on and she looks away, pulling away from me and sliding off my lap.

  She gathers her hair on top of her head and lets it drop back down around her face, turning her face away from me. She does this when she feels uncomfortable, like the other day in class when the professor called on her when she hadn’t been paying attention.

  “So, what were you doing before I showed up and cried all over you?” She tries to grin, her guard shooting back up, as quick as ever. Her eyes land anywhere but on me now that the moment is gone and she realizes her defenses were down. She glances into the kitchen. “The food’s probably cold by now. I don’t think I cooked it right, it-”

  “Aubree,” I stop her. She freezes, her eyes glued to the floor before she finally turns to face me. “You don’t have to hide from me.”

  “I know,” she looks down, waving her hand dismissively. “I’m fine, really-”

  “No, you’re not.” I stand, taking her hands in mine. “And that’s fine. It’s okay to not be okay, you don’t have to pretend like you are.”

  She looks up slowly from the floor, the facade of lightness dropping as her eyes meet mine. “That’s a new feeling to me, Sam,” she whispers. “I’m not used to being seen this way. I’m not used to being seen at all.”

  I lean forward and press a kiss to her forehead, my chest aching for the pain she’s always carried alone.

  Chapter 9

  Present day

  Sam

  I pull into the driveway of the light blue bungalow and let out a breath.

  Why am I nervous? I shouldn’t be nervous. I’m just going to my sister’s house for pizza. And Aubree. It’s Aubree’s house too. It was actually Aubree’s house first. After Ryan died and I saw how she wasn’t in a good place, I sent my sisters banging on her door looking for a roommate. Not that it took much convincing from them, the twins had loved Aubree since the day they met her. I guess she has that effect on all of the Hudson siblings.

  But the four of us haven’t all been in one room for two years. My Aubree and the twin’s best friend feel like two completely different people. The semester after I was the TA in her class, she was in all graduate nursing classes. That’s how she got to know the twins. I’ve lived vicariously through them for almost two years now, keeping up with how she is and what she’s doing.

  What if we are two completely different people now? What if the girl I knew two years ago isn’t the girl she is now? I know I sure as hell am not the same person. And what was she there to tell me yesterday on the beach? I could see it in the ticking of her jaw that she was working up to saying something; something she didn’t want to say tonight in front of my sisters. She opened her mouth to speak and then she was gone.

  Was she going to tell me she’s moved on? That she has someone in her life now? It’s not unreasonable, it’s been a year since Ryan died and nearly three years since their relationship was in a good place.

  Elle appears on the front porch, interrupting my anxious thoughts. She frantically waves me in with her toothy grin, Maddie’s head popping up over her shoulder. I laugh to myself as I climb out of my truck and head towards the house.

  Just as I make it to the top step, I’m simultaneously attacked. Elle runs around and jumps on my back and Maddie loops her arms around my neck and both legs around one of mine, hanging off of me like I’m a human jungle gym.

  “Hi, big brother!” Elle grins, squeezing my neck tighter than necessary.

  “Hi spider monkeys,” I grunt, laughing as I try to make it through the door with one of my legs weighed down with a tiny human.

  “We’re so glad you’re here,” Maddie giggles. “We cleaned and everything.”

  “We nothing, that was all me!” Elle yells, right in my ear and I wince.

  “Thank you for that Ovella, I’m deaf out of my right ear now.” I huff, getting one last step inside and shutting the door.

  “This is why we can’t have nice things,” comes a familiar, soft voice from the kitchen. I look over and Aubree is taking plates out of the cabinet. She smiles at me and my heart swells in my chest. “Hi, Sam.”

  “Hey, Aubree.” I meet her gaze and the whole world falls away for a moment.

  Elle hops down off my back and Maddie detaches herself, both with mischievous grins.

  “Everyone calls her Bree,” Elle shoots me a look, walking into the kitchen and opening the fridge.

  “Everyone but Sam,” Aubree grins, her eyes still locked with mine. “He just has to be special.”

  If I were paying attention to anything but Aubree, I would notice the twins exchanged a look that means they’re having one of their silent conversations and Elle “accidentally” dropping the jar of pizza sauce on the tile.

  “Crap!” she says, feigning surprise. “That was our only jar of sauce.”

  “Good one butterfingers,” Aubree laughs, rolling her eyes. “We’ll just have pizza delivered. We don’t have to make it.”

  “No, but we do!” Maddie says too quickly as Aubree reaches for her phone. Aubree looks wide-eyed at her and I fold my arms and wait for their devious plan to unfold. I would pretend to be annoyed or even call them out if it wasn’t for the fact that I know how their plan will end.

  With Aubree and me. Alone.

  “Sam makes the best homemade pizza,” Elle steps in quickly.

  “Yeah, it’s so much better than any delivery.” Maddie nods.

  Aubree looks between the two of them, no more fooled than I am but I decide to play along, because what the hell, right?

  “It’s true,” I tell her with mock seriousness. “I put delivery to shame.”

  She levels me with a stare that says she knows exactly what’s going on here. I’m finding it hard to fight a grin.

  “Tell you what,” Elle says like she’s just had this brilliant idea. “Mads and I will run to the store and grab some more, you two stay here and start on the crust, okay?”

  “Sounds like a plan!” Maddie beams, her keys, and purse already in hand. Aubree opens her mouth to argue but they are already halfway out the door. “Byeee!”

  Aubree looks at the door and then back at me and laughs humorlessly. “I’m holding you responsible for whatever that was all about.”

  I find myself drifting closer to her. “And why is that my fault?”

&
nbsp; “They’re your sisters, you practically raised them.”

  “No, I was the good kid,” I chuckle. “They get all that from Caleb.”

  “Well I’m not blaming your brother, so it’s your fault,” she says haughtily.

  I’m reaching for her before I can think about what I’m doing. Her eyes go wide when my hand touches her hip and she jumps. “What are you doing?”

  “Well, I’m trying to give you a hug,” I say taking another step closer.

  “Oh,” she says quietly, a ghost of a smile dancing across her face. “Well if you have to…”

  I laugh as she lets me pull her against my chest. Her arms slip around my back and she melts against me willingly.

  “Now, was that so hard?” I ask, resting my cheek on top of her head.

  “Shut up,” she grumbles, nestling closer and closing her eyes. She lets out a heavy sigh, and I feel every bit of worry, stress, and guilt seep out of my body. I curl my hand around the back of her neck and breathe her in for the first time in years. She smells so good, like lavender and vanilla. I love vanilla.

  “I’ve missed you so much, Sam,” she whispers.

  “I know,” I kiss her hair. “I missed you too.”

  ***

  Bree

  Being around Sam again feels like I’ve been holding my breath for two years, and I can finally breathe again. After all this time, I’ve wanted to reach out to him. Once I came to terms with Ryan’s death and stopped punishing myself, I wanted to seek him out, but I felt like too much time had passed. Like I’d missed my chance; that the timing was never right and might never be again.

  When he pulls me against him and I’m enveloped in his familiar woodsy scent and strong arms, it takes all that I have in me to keep the tears at bay. It’s bliss after torture, warmth after freezing. I missed you so much, Sam. He kisses the top of my head and tells me he missed me too.

  I breathe him in slowly, letting his presence sink in all around me. Sam has such a presence, it fills the whole room. It’s calming and authoritative, I feel safe from the rest of the world like nothing can touch me.

  I let myself play with the idea of us for the first time in a long time. I let my thoughts wander to the places I’ve never allowed them to before. Sam and me together, really together. But I still don’t know if the timing is right. He carried on for two years, he has a life. He maybe even has someone. Someone not married or catatonic or vacant. All of the things I’ve been as long as I’ve known him.

  Up until now.

  The thought of Sam with another woman makes me ill. Which isn’t fair at all, but I don’t care. Clinging to him like this, his arms wrapped tightly around me and my face buried in the crook of his neck, I don’t care what’s right or what’s fair. All I care about is Sam and holding onto him for as long as I’m able.

  Being around him again is bittersweet. Both enjoying every second of it and knowing it will soon come to an end. It feels like a surreal dream having him back in my present. He’s been a distant memory for so long. It’s a scary thought to think of how I will feel if I have to let him go all over again.

  I squeeze him even tighter and then I force myself to let go.

  I don’t look at him as I turn to the oven and preheat it for the pizza. I’m nervous. This is weird, I’ve never been nervous around Sam.

  I glance around the room, looking anywhere but him. He’s leaning against the counter opposite to me, watching me with that amused look on his face. I don’t even have to look at him, I can see his posture from the corner of my eye, he’s enjoying watching me squirm.

  “You want a beer or anything?” I ask him as I pull down a wine glass from the cabinet. I pause and do a mental inventory of my fridge. “Actually, scratch that. We don’t have beer. We have wine, you want some wine? Here, have some wine.”

  I pour a glass with shaky hands, sloshing a large red splash all over the counter. I curse under my breath and look around for a rag, wine bottle and glass still in hand.

  I know I have a rag lying around here somewhere...dammit. I swear it was just right-

  Sam comes up behind me, his steady hands covering mine and I jump. He takes the bottle and pours the second glass. I can feel the grin on his lips, his hot breath on my neck making me shiver. He gently places the bottle and glass on the counter and grabs a towel. Where the hell did he get that towel? He wipes up my mess and I just stand there watching his hands mop up the wine, feeling the heat radiating off of him like electrical charges against my back. When he’s finished, his hands fall to my shoulders and my heart leaps again.

  His mouth brushes my ear when he speaks causing a fine shiver to run down my back. “You’re jumpy tonight,” he says in a low voice. His hands drag slowly over my shoulders, down the length of my arms. It was meant to be a soothing gesture, but it only makes my heart race faster.

  I grab one of the glasses in front of me and take a large gulp, and then another. Red wine makes me foggy and sleepy, something I usually hate but it’s a nice contrast to the hypersensitive buzz I feel right now.

  “I’m nervous,” I tell him quietly, my eyes fixed widely on the glass in my hand. “Why the hell am I so nervous?”

  Sam pulls my arm, turning me around to face him. I lean back against the counter, taking him in for the first time since he walked in. He’s different than the last time I saw him. His hair is no longer cropped short; the dark messy waves are a little longer now like they used to be. He’s got that sexy, disheveled look about him in his faded gray Henley and jeans. A dark shadow of stubble lines his jaw. His shoulders are broader, his chest straining against his shirt more than it used to.

  “You've been working out?” I blurt before gulping the rest of my wine.

  His chuckle is deep and smooth, like chocolate. I wonder if I would taste it on his lips.

  His eyes darken as they wash over me. Sam has always been able to read me like a book. My thoughts are not easily hidden to him. I hate it, but I also love it. Especially when he looks at me the way he is right now.

  He lifts his hand to brush my hair out of my eyes, his fingers trailing across my cheekbone and down my jaw line. My eyes drift shut, a heady feeling washing over me. His hands cup my face and I open my eyes lazily to look up into his. They’re a soft moss green, swirls of honey dripping out of his pupils.

  His full lips part and I lift my chin, his lips only a breath away from mine and-

  “We’re back!” The front door slams and we both jump, pulling apart.

  I sigh and pour another glass of wine.

  Chapter 10

  Bree

  Three Years ago...

  Why is it that I find Sam, in the midst of all this chaos? Where was he a year ago? Before things turned so dark, before Ryan and I got married. No one has ever let me just be me before, not just the fun, loud, laughing me, but the me that has darkness. The me that fights demons of sadness and cries when I’m alone.

  Sam sees that side of me regardless of how hard I try to hide behind the carefree facade I let everyone else see.

  Ryan told me one day, a few weeks after we got married, that I wasn’t the same as I used to be. I wasn’t as fun. The truth was I never changed. I just began to let him in. But he didn’t like what he saw.

  But the way Sam’s looking at me right now when he tells me I don’t have to hide. It makes me feel like, for once, I don’t have to. It makes me feel, for the first time in my life, that I have someone in my life I can be free with. I can laugh with, or cry with. Someone I can talk to openly, not worrying about saving face or putting on the right persona.

  It’s like I told him, I’m not used to being seen.

  “I see you, Aubree.” He smiles down at me. “And I like what I see.”

  I snort, glancing down at my yoga pants and threadbare t-shirt. I’m sure I have makeup smudged under my eyes from crying all over him a minute ago. And I don’t even want to know what my hair looks like... Probably like Hermione Granger’s. “Whatever, I’m a mess.”


  Sam tilts my chin up with his forefinger. “You’re a beautiful mess.”

  My stomach dips as I stare up into those moss green eyes. I realize and openly accept for the first time, that what I feel for Sam moves far beyond the bounds of friendship. I’m falling for him, and I can’t even begin to process how wrong that is. All I can feel is his warmth and the peace that settles over me when I’m with him.

  Sam tries to salvage the food I cooked, but it’s too far gone. He grins, telling me I made a good effort, but I cooked it on too high of heat. Since I spoiled dinner, Sam makes us microwave brownies in a coffee mug.

  I hop up onto the counter and prop my bare feet on the island while he pulls the mugs out of the microwave.

  “I don’t believe this is actually a thing,” I tell him, eyeing the fluffy brownie in a red Gryffindor mug. “Also, there’s no way you’re not a Ravenclaw.”

  He chuckles, pulling a carton of vanilla ice cream out of the freezer. He plops a scoop in each of our mugs along with a spoon. “Shut up and eat it,” he grins and I notice his is blue with an eagle. “And I am a Ravenclaw, that’s Maddie’s mug.”

  I try not to smile like a goofball and take a bite of my brownie. “Oh, that is so good,” I moan, taking another huge bite. This brownie just made my day. “Where did you learn to cook?”

  “I did most of the cooking for my siblings growing up. We all ate dinner together every night once I started cooking so I started learning new recipes and taking classes so we could do it every night. It was really all the family time we got...our parents were never around much.” He says, leaning against the island by my feet. “This particular recipe Maddie found on Pinterest when she was fifteen. I made it all the time for the twins.”

  I smile picturing a much younger Sam cooking for his little sisters. “You’re a good big brother.”