"I'm starting Monday. I couldn't have done it without you." She sets her glass on the table. "I wouldn't even be here without you."
"Yeah."
Samantha brings her gaze to me. She's happy. But there's something off about it.
Her gaze softens. "What's wrong?"
I shake my head. "Nothing."
"Please, I'd love to hear about anything except for the pathetic failure that is my life."
"You're not a pathetic failure," I say, but there's no meaning behind it. It's rote.
"Thanks. I was just... there's something bothering you." Samantha clears her throat. The joy on her face turns to something ugly. "Is it about your girlfriend?"
She looks so earnest, but I know it's all bullshit. "You weren't very polite at dinner."
"I was trying to make conversation."
"And the cake?"
She shrinks back. "I ate some cake. Is that a crime?"
"Look me in the eyes and swear you didn't know about Alyssa's history with an eating disorder."
Her eyes turn to the floor. "I didn't know it was still a problem."
Her voice doesn't waver, but there's still something off about it. Something I don't believe.
She polishes off her glass and refills it. "Why would I try to hurt her? What problem could I possibly have with your girlfriend?"
I stare daggers at her. It's a stupid question, and it doesn't merit an answer
"Please don't make me choose between you," I say. "I'm not going to choose you."
"Choose what? Luke, you're my best friend and I'm happy you're happy."
"Then why all the trips down memory lane? Were you trying to make her jealous?"
"No!" she pushes back. "I only wanted to revisit a few nice memories. I want to be friends with her. I want you to be with her. I want you to be happy."
She swallows hard. She's not selling it well.
"Alyssa asked for space," I say.
My eyes are glued to Samantha. If she has any feelings about this, I'm going to catch them. She's not going to bullshit me again.
"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that." She takes a careful sip from her glass, her eyes on the floor. "What happened?"
"It's kind of complicated," I say. "But mostly, I think... she's not really comfortable with our friendship."
"What's there to be uncomfortable about?"
I take a deep breath. I don't want to push Samantha this hard, but I have to know where things stand. "She thinks you have feelings for me."
"I, uh, I..." She presses her fingers into the glass. "I told you to go back to Los Angeles to be with her."
We make eye contact for a moment. There's something she wants to say, but she's keeping it locked inside.
"You needed help," I say. "I couldn't have left you in that hospital alone."
She turns her attention to her wine glass. "Well, I'm sure it hurts. But maybe it's for the best."
I grit my teeth. I'm tempted to pour my wine on Samantha's head and kick her out of the house. This could be the last time Samantha comes between me and Alyssa.
"For the best how?" I ask.
"Well, she was with Ryan. Aren't you the rebound guy?" She looks away. "I mean, she seems nice and smart and she's very pretty. But maybe you two aren't meant for forever. Maybe you're meant as a fling."
I swallow all the anger that bubbles up from my gut.
Samantha looks away. "Forget I said anything. It doesn't matter what I think. It only matters how you feel." She brings her gaze to mine. I search for intention in her eyes, but I still come up empty. "Do you really see a future with her? It's not like you can't find another pretty girl."
"Fuck you," I say.
"Sorry." She clears her throat. "I didn't mean it like that. But you have to admit how it looks."
It's always about how it looks with her, isn't it? It must be why she can't bring herself to hate Edward the way I do. Because even though she loved him, she understood that he couldn't be with her. Because it just wouldn't look right.
"I love her," I say. "And I want to be with her forever if she'll allow it."
"That's great," she says. She tries to maintain her poker face, but it's fading fast. She looks at her cell phone.
"Does that bother you?"
"Of course not. I've told you a million times. I want you to be happy. I want you to move on." She shakes her head, pushes her lips together. "Excuse me for a minute."
She moves into the bathroom. Her gait is calm. It's almost like she's normal. Like she only needs to fetch something in the other room.
I could leave her in there. Let her figure this out on her own for once, damn the consequences. She's an adult. She should be able to manage one of her contained fits.
But there are prescriptions in the medicine cabinet, and I can't trust her not to take them.
I knock on the bathroom door.
"Go away," she says.
"Talk to me."
"No. I'm only making your life harder."
"At least tell me what's wrong."
"It's nothing," she says. "I'm just a little stressed out. It's nothing."
I open the door. She's sitting on the tub, wiping a tear from her eyes. "But I'm getting in the way of your happiness. You love her and you want to be with her, and I'm a problem." The words are poison on her lips.
I want to tell her she's right. I want to tell her she brought this on herself. I begged her to stay, but she was done with me. She was so done with me, she'd sooner pine after a dead asshole than spend a single moment in my presence.
She was done with me, and I moved on. And I finally found someone who made me happy.
And now she's jealous.
I want to tell her to go fuck herself, to get over it, to stop being such a selfish cunt.
But I can't.
She clings to me, crying into my suit jacket. She doesn't explain what's wrong. She doesn't have to.
Alyssa was right.
Samantha is in love with me.
And anything I do will destroy her.
When she finally calms down, she wipes her makeup from her eyes. She looks so desperate. So small and full of need.
I know I shouldn't try and make her say it, but I need to hear the words. I need her to admit it, so I can know for sure.
"Tell me what's wrong," I say. "Tell me why this upsets you."
Her voice is a low whimper. "Don't make me."
"Please. I need to know the truth."
"What difference does it make?" she asks. "You're in love, and I want you to be happy."
"You don't."
"I want to. I've done enough to ruin your life. I've done so much to hurt you, Luke. I can't burden you with this too."
"I can take it."
She shakes her head. "I had the right idea before. I'm causing you pain. You're the only person who cares about me, and I'm causing you pain."
"Sam..."
"You shouldn't have come to Santa Barbara. You should have left me alone in that hospital with my thoughts. I could have figured out how to do it right next time."
"I don't want that."
"You'll be sad for a little while, but you'll be better off in the long run," she says. "You won't have anything standing in the way of your relationship with Alyssa."
"I don't want that."
She shakes her head. "You do. I can tell."
"No, Samantha, please don't--"
"Just go away! This is what I deserve. Why won't you let me do it?"
I bite my tongue. She's too old to make these kinds of threats, but I can't let her consider doing it again.
"I'm not better off without you," I say. "You're my best friend."
"But what about Alyssa?"
"I'll figure it out," I say.
She clings to me, crying until she's utterly spent.
It might be an empty threat. It might be a pathetic manipulation. But I can't take that risk.
I can't let her kill herself.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE
Alyssa is back in L.A.
She texts me. It's not much¸ little how are you's and I miss yous, but it morphs into full conversations.
They're about nothing important. She tells me about her film role.
It's a romantic comedy
, she texts.
I'm the best friend. I've never been the best friend before, only the girlfriend. It was nice not having to do any heavy lifting. Just nodding and bouncing off the friend who is the star. I even get my own little subplot. My own love interest--the guy's best friend. God, I can't believe I took something so cliché. It's well done, I swear.
And I tease her about unplugging from technology.
What were you doing when you were off? You know you're not Henry David Thoreau. The world won't appreciate a new version of Walden. There are important things on Tumblr you missed! People are upset about a new Disney movie appropriating other cultures. I tried talking about it with one of my clients, but she stared at me like I was crazy. I think she was picturing me naked.
She responds.
Very likely. I mean, it can be tough with you looking all professional in that suit. You look so suave and accomplished. So respectable. But I'm sure she's motivated. She's probably in love with you. They're all in love with you, aren't they?
I respond.
A little.
I can't blame them. If you were holding my hand, fighting to take everything from my awful ex, and looking at me with those big, pretty eyes.
The eyes again?
She replies.
What can I say? They're fucking gorgeous. I get lost in them. And when you smile--forget about it. Your eyes light up, and your face fills with the purest joy. I think you had me the first time you smiled. I wanted to see that a million more times. I would have done anything to keep seeing your face light up.
Even though you were engaged to Ryan?
We both know you were only talking with me to make him jealous.
I reply.
Or maybe I wanted to get a better look at the famous Alyssa Summers.
Only I'm not famous.
Well, maybe it was because you're so fucking gorgeous. Maybe you turned my stomach inside out and I wanted to take every chance I could to be near you.
She replies.
I'm sure there was some of that. But mostly it was to fuck with him, right?
Maybe.
I knew it! You little shit! I can't believe you. Actually, I can completely believe you. You do realize that you're completely deranged, don't you?
I reply.
Guilty as charged. It's true. I did talk to you at first to fuck with him. But once I got to know you, hell, after that first conversation, it was all about you. I wanted to be around you so badly. I would have done anything.
Yeah, me too. I'm sorry it took me so long to figure it out.
I should have been more patient. I love you Ally. I miss you.
I miss you too.
Tell me everything about the movie. I don't care if it seems boring. I want to hear it.
She replies.
Well, it was pretty ordinary. We shot a lot of scenes in what was supposed to be my character's apartment. It was so cramped, and it was decorated in this awful mix of teal and salmon. You wouldn't believe the clothes wardrobe put me in. In this one scene, I was wearing a petticoat.
That sounds amazing.
It was kind of amazing. But even if it was light, I enjoyed it. It was nice to have a little more fun with acting. I forgot about that for a little while, getting so stressed out about Model Citizen premiering. I think I'm finally getting back in the swing of things.
I respond.
I'm glad.
It was therapeutic. It was good to get out of my head for a little while. To get away from everything.
So you didn't think about things?
Not yet... Can we just talk for now? About anything besides the future?
I respond.
Okay. As long as we'll get to the future eventually.
We will. How are things? How is Samantha?
I'm awful, but I'm managing. Ryan is driving me crazy. He keeps offering to buy out my half of the business, but I don't want to give it to him.
She replies.
You should. You have plenty of money. You can start over. He can be out of our lives permanently.
Yeah, but... I'll think about it. I've been reading a little. This cultural studies book about Starbucks's branding.
Really?
I used to read that kind of thing all the time. All these things you wouldn't think end up being true. Like the drinks being expensive is part of what adds to the experience. It makes it feel like a treat.
I'd never consider that.
I reply.
I hate to admit it, but I haven't been doing great without you. I can't stop thinking about you. I don't want to pressure you. I really want you to have as much time and space as you need, but I'm going crazy feeling like I fucked things up. Like everything is ruined.
It's not, I promise. But can we save that kind of heavy stuff for later? I want to talk to you and remember how happy you can make me.
You should come over. We'll watch Monk and take tequila shots.
So we can argue over which assistant is better?
Yeah, I like arguing with you. You're passionate.
She replies.
I can't believe you don't like The Philadelphia Story.
I'm sorry, but I don't find jokes about domestic violence humorous.
It's a product of the times.
Still.
You're impossible.
I'll buy you a hundred lattes. With almond milk and honey. I'll buy an apartment over a coffee shop, and pay off a barista to deliver the coffee to us in bed.
What if he walks in on us having sex?