A Love Like Yours

by Robin Huber

  He pulls me back down on his warm chest, and after a few minutes, or maybe even seconds, I drift into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

  Chapter 21

  Lucy

  I wake from the best sleep I’ve had in as long as I can remember. I stare at the ceiling in Sam’s bedroom, knowing exactly where I am and not wanting to be anywhere else. I sit up in his comfy bed, holding the soft duvet under my arms, and look at the blue sky through the giant windows. The autumn sun is filling the room with soft light. I smile and stretch my arms above my head, and fall back against the plush pillows.

  “Sam?” I call, smiling, knowing he must be somewhere nearby. After a few seconds and no answer, I sit up again. I listen for the shower but don’t hear anything coming from the bathroom. “Sam?” I call again.

  No answer.

  I get up and look down at my naked body, briefly contemplating my options before yanking the sheet off the bed and wrapping it around me. I walk through the living room, glancing around the open apartment. “Sam?”

  I find him in the kitchen standing in front of the stove, working diligently over a frying pan. There’s a mess of bowls and batter-covered utensils lying on the counter beside a box of pancake mix. He picks up the box and studies the back of it carefully.

  “Hey,” I say, smiling at the sight of him freshly showered and shirtless.

  He turns around, spatula in hand, and smiles at me. “Hey.”

  “What are you doing?” I ask, feeling my heart swell with every beat, because I already know the answer.

  “Making pancakes.” He smiles shyly and it takes everything in me to fight the sudden onslaught of tears. “I’m trying to anyway.” He laughs softly. “I don’t have any bacon.”

  “Next time.” I walk over to him, wrap my arms around him tight, and eye the perfectly golden pancakes in the pan. “You’re doing a great job.”

  He smiles proudly. “I made coffee if you want some.”

  I pull the sheet tight, tucking it under my arms, and pour myself a cup.

  “Sugar’s over there,” he says, pointing to a small bowl. “And there’s half-and-half in the fridge.”

  I grab the half-and-half and pour it into my coffee until it clouds under the surface, then I stir in some sugar and carry it to the island, where I perch myself on a stool.

  I sip my coffee and watch him slide the pancakes onto a plate.

  He turns off the burner and carries it over to me. “I’ll get the butter and syrup,” he says, rounding the island again. He returns a few seconds and sits beside me.

  “Plates and forks?” I suggest, pressing my lips together over a smile.

  “Right.” He jumps up again.

  When he returns, I wrap my hand around his wrist and kiss him softly. “Thank you for making me pancakes.”

  He smiles and his dimples go straight to my head. “You’re welcome.” He sits down beside me again and we help ourselves, slathering our warm pancakes with butter and drizzling them with syrup.

  I take a bite and smile as I chew. “It’s really good,” I say over my mouthful.

  By the time I’ve finished my plate, Sam is on his second helping. I sit back and sip my coffee and watch him clean his plate. When he’s through, he puts his fork down and turns toward me on his stool. He reaches for my face and tucks my hair behind my ear. “This,” he says, gazing at me.

  I smile softly and set my coffee down when I see the look in his eyes.

  “I want this,” he says longingly. “Every day.”

  “Me too,” I breathe, igniting the familiar fire in his eyes.

  He reaches for my face and pulls me off the stool, kissing me passionately until the sheet unravels from around me and falls to the floor. I press my naked body against him and melt into his kiss, tasting the sweet syrup on his lips.

  “I can’t.” He gasps, releasing me.

  “Oh…okay,” I say quietly, nodding over my disappointment as the oxygen reaches my tingling limbs again.

  “It’s not that I don’t want to, Lamb.” He gazes down at my naked body. “Believe me, I do. But I can’t. Not right before a fight.”

  I blink up at him and smile. “I can wait.”

  He scrapes his teeth over his bottom lip. “Promise?”

  “Just be sure to save a few rounds for me. Okay, champ?”

  He nods his head and grins. “Okay.” He picks up the sheet and wraps it around me. “I have a surprise for you,” he says.

  “You do?”

  He crinkles his excited eyes. “I want you to come to Quebec with me.”

  My breath catches in my throat. “Quebec?”

  “Yeah. I want you to come to the fight.”

  I look up at his smiling face and try to lasso my frantic heart. “I, um, I’d have to look at flights,” I say, trying to sort through the details of the impending day in my head. Maybe I could…No, I have to go talk to Drew. I have to explain everything. He deserves that much. It could just be a gut feeling, but I think it might take a while.

  “That’s the surprise. It’s all taken care of. You just need your passport and some clothes. We can swing by and get them on the way to the airport.” He grabs his phone off the counter and looks at the time. “Miles should be here any minute to pick us up. The flight’s at noon.”

  “What? No,” I say, feeling my face scrunch up. “Sam, I—” I feel like I can’t breathe. “I can’t get on a plane right now.”

  His face falls. “Why?”

  Because I need to work out the details of my broken engagement with Drew. I have to pack my things. I have to find out what he plans to do with the studio.

  “Don’t you want to see me fight?”

  “Yes. Of course I do.”

  “Then what’s the matter?”

  I hold the sheet around me and walk to the bedroom, where I aim to find some clothes to put on. “Do you have a T-shirt or something I can borrow?” I ask as he watches me from the doorway.

  He pulls a shirt out of his dresser drawer and hands it to me. “Here.”

  I put it on. “Where are my panties?” I ask, frustrated.

  “They’re around here somewhere,” he says, scanning the floor.

  I march past him to the opposite side of the room, where I find them on the floor and pull them on. I pass him again and plop down on the bed.

  “Lucy, what is going on?”

  “I can’t go to Quebec with you, Sam.”

  He inhales a deep breath, and I watch the muscles in his torso flex all the way down to the V. “Why?”

  My phone buzzes on the floor, and I immediately wish I hadn’t gotten up to bring it in here last night. Sam picks it up, pausing to look at the screen before handing it to me. “I guess I got my answer.” He tosses it on the bed beside me and walks into the bathroom.

  I pick it up and look at the screen, and my heart shrinks inside my chest. It’s filled with text messages and missed calls from Drew and Janice.

  Drew: I’m sorry about last night

  Drew: Where are you?

  Drew: Please come home

  Drew: I’m worried about you.

  Drew: We can work this out

  Janice: It’s normal to have cold feet, but I know you and Drew can work this out.

  Janice: There’s still plenty of time until the wedding.

  Janice: Don’t forget about the cake tasting this week.

  It buzzes again. Low battery.

  I toss it on the bed and get up. “Sam.” I find him in the bathroom, leaning over the sink, gripping the counter. I put my hand on his back and say softly, “Sam.”

  He turns around abruptly. “Why?” he asks urgently, and my heart aches at the strangled sound of his voice. “Why did you tell me it’s over with him?”

  “It is over. I ended it with him last night.”

  “Well, I don’t think he got the message.”

  “Which is why I can’t go to Quebec with you. I need to go talk to him.”

  “I’m done sharing you, Lucy.�
��

  “I never asked you to share me,” I say, swallowing my frustration. “I’m yours, Sam. I’ve always been yours.”

  “Don’t.” He drops his chin and shakes his head. “Don’t say that again, until you really are. Without strings. Without hesitation.”

  I exhale a silent breath. Nothing hurts like the pain inflicted by Sam. “Okay. I’m sorry,” I whisper, and walk back into the bedroom.

  I look through the giant windows at the city below and touch the cold glass. “I told him it was over,” I say, when I feel Sam standing behind me. “Maybe I should have gone home to him last night to make sure it got through to him, but”—I turn around and look into his sad eyes—“I wanted to come home to you.”

  He exhales a heavy breath. “Come with me to Quebec, Lamb.”

  Someone knocks on the door.

  “It’s Miles,” he says, giving me one last pleading look before he goes to let him in.

  He returns a few seconds later. “Lucy, please just come with me. We’ll worry about everything else later. It doesn’t matter.”

  “I can’t do that, Sam. I have to talk to Drew. I owe him an explanation. He deserves that much. Everything will be settled by the time you’re back.”

  He grabs his shirt off the bed and slips it on. “So go talk to him then,” he says, reaching for his duffle bag. “I’ll tell Miles to cancel your ticket.”

  “Sam.”

  “I have to go, Lucy,” he says, deflated.

  “I don’t want you to leave like this.”

  “Then come with me.”

  “I can’t,” I say, feeling overwhelmed.

  “Sam, we have to go,” Miles shouts across the apartment.

  “I’ve got to go,” he says flatly. “Stay as long as you need. Terrance can arrange a car for you. His number is on the inside of the keypad by the front door.”

  “Sam.” I reach for him and wrap my arms around his waist. “I love you.”

  He drops his bag and wraps his arms around me. “I love you too,” he says quietly.

  “I’ll be watching tonight,” I say when he releases me.

  He picks up his bag again and nods. “Bye, Lucy.” He walks out of the room.

  “Bye, Sam,” I say softly, feeling the words leave my body with a wave of anxiety. When I hear the door to his apartment shut, the apprehension consumes me.

  What am I doing?

  I pick up my phone to call Sebastian, but the battery dies and it powers down. Shit. I look around for a phone charger, hoping to find one plugged into the wall behind one of the nightstands, but I don’t see one. I sit on the bed and open one of the drawers, where I find one and quickly plug it in. I connect my phone and lay it on the nightstand to charge, but something catches my eye inside the drawer—an envelope with my name written on it. I pick it up and see several more stacked beneath it, all with my name written on them.

  I open the unsealed envelope in my hands and pull out several pieces of folded notebook paper that are filled with Sam’s handwriting. My chest falls heavily as I begin to read them.

  Sam, Twenty-One Years Old

  I close my eyes and try to block out the noise in my cell block. I imagine Lucy. I see her face and focus on her pale blue eyes. When everything is quiet, I pick up my pen and begin writing.

  Lucy,

  It’s been three years since I’ve seen you. I worry about you all the time. I don’t know where you are. Are you okay? I know you may never get this letter. I don’t even know where to send it. Did you graduate? Did you leave Brighton Park? Did you go to college? I pray that you did. I pray a lot these days. I pray that I’ll get out of here soon. I’m up for parole in a couple of months. I can’t believe I’m even saying that. I didn’t want my life to be like this. I’m sorry.

  I got my GED. I’ve been taking college classes too. I’m about to get my associate’s degree. Can you believe it? That’s the only good thing about this place. That and the boxing program. Since I’ve had good behavior I’ve been able to participate in it and I’ve actually won all of my matches.

  I’m so lonely, Luc. I miss you so much. I miss everything. We never had much but here I have nothing. Without you I have even less.

  Please be okay. Please have faith in me. I can change this. I can make it better. I’m not like our parents. I don’t belong here. I’m doing everything I can to get out early. My lawyer thinks I have a good chance. I just want to see you. I want to hear your voice.

  Are you ashamed of me? Is that why you haven’t come? I understand if you are. When I get out I’ll do everything in my power to change that. I’ll make you proud of me again. I’ll do good things. I’ll show you that I’m still the person you thought I was. You’ve known me since I was twelve. You know my heart. You know who I really am.

  I love you, Lucy. I love you and I always will. Even if you can’t find faith in me again. Even if you never come back to me. I love you. You made me better. You made my life better. I don’t know who I’d be if it weren’t for you. You made me want to be a good person. You taught me that it doesn’t matter where you start. You taught me the importance of an education. You taught me to love. You were the first person to love me and I’m forever grateful for that.

  When I close my eyes tonight I’ll see your face and I’ll dream of your voice like I always do. It’s the only thing that comforts me in this awful place. I hope you’ve found comfort too wherever you are. And I hope that you’re happy.

  Sam

  Lucy

  I fold the letter with shaking hands and carefully place it back in the envelope, crying quietly over the pain of losing him all those years ago, over the pain he must have been in when he wrote it, over the loss of who we were before, and the lives we lived after. An abandoned sob bubbles out of me and echoes through his quiet apartment, reminding me why I’m alone, and I sit up straight in the bed. I wipe my eyes and reach for my phone, which has turned back on now.

  “Sebastian.”

  “Hey. How did everything go?”

  “I need you to come get me,” I say urgently.

  “Why? Where’s Sam?”

  “He left for Quebec.”

  “Is everything okay?”

  “It will be.”

  “Lucy, what’s going on? Are you okay?”

  “I’ll explain when you get here. I’m fine. Just hurry.”

  “Okay, I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

  “Could you bring me some clothes?”

  “Sure. Let me just grab my cape and I’ll be right over.” He musters the smallest laugh out of me.

  “Terrance is the guard downstairs. I’ll tell him you’re coming up. It’s the twenty-fifth floor.”

  “Which apartment?”

  “His apartment is the twenty-fifth floor.”

  I hear a quiet gasp.

  “Sebastian.”

  “Okay, got it. Hurry. Bring clothes. Terrance. Twenty-fifth floor.”

  “Yes. See you soon.”

  “Okay, bye.”

  I hang up the phone and hurry to the keypad by the front door, where I dial Terrance’s number and plug my dying phone into the nearest outlet to keep it charging. “Hi, Terrance, this is—”

  “Miss Lucy.”

  I pause. “Yes.”

  “Sam gave me your number. For security reasons,” he explains. “He wanted to make sure you could reach me while you were staying with him.”

  “Oh, okay,” I say, nodding with approval as if he could see.

  “He said you might be needing a car this morning. Is that why you’re calling?”

  “No, but—”

  “Is everything okay?”

  “Yes, everything’s fine. I’ve arranged for my assistant to pick me up. He’s bringing me a change of clothes, so I was hoping you wouldn’t mind letting him up.”

  “What’s his name?”

  I give him Sebastian’s information and then head for the bathroom where I proceed to take the fastest shower of my life.

  I t
urn my head to listen for the front door, but when I don’t hear anything, I turn the hair dryer back on. It’s one of the few things I found in Sam’s bathroom that might help me look more like a human than a drowned rat. I run my fingers through my hair, separating the pink and blond strands as the dryer whips them around my face. I hear something again and turn the dryer off.

  Knocking. Definitely knocking.

  Sebastian.

  I hurry to the front door, holding my towel securely under my arms. “Hey,” I breathe when I open the door and see him carrying a multitude of bags that will hopefully improve the state of my appearance. I take a quick inventory. Dry-cleaning bag, drugstore bag, my makeup bag from the studio…and coffee. I sigh in relief. “You’re my hero.”

  He smiles and walks in, casing the apartment with abandon. “Oh, my God, this place is incredible,” he gushes.

  “Yeah, I know, it’s great. Now come on.” I take the coffee from him and drag him to the bedroom. “We have to hurry.”

  “Wait,” he says, laying the dry-cleaning bag over the back of the couch in the living room. He gazes at the stone fireplace and his eyes wander to the giant windows that enclose the space.

  “Sebastian.”

  He turns his attention back to me. “Sorry. What were you saying?”

  I raise my eyebrows. “That we need to hurry.”

  “Why? What’s going on?”

  I shake my head and try to explain. “Sam wanted me to go to Quebec with him and I told him no.”

  “Why did you do that?”

  “Because I think I should probably give Drew his ring back before I go flying off to another country with Sam.”

  “Okay, it’s Canada, not the South of France.”

  I drop my head to the side. “I need to finish things with Drew the right way, Sebastian. I’ve screwed so many things up, but I need to take responsibility for my actions. Sam and I have a second chance, and I want to start our future without my engagement to another man hanging over our heads.”

  “Okay. But if Sam’s going to be in Quebec for the next couple of days, what’s the hurry?”