"Maybe later," she says, not fully dashing my hopes but not raising them any higher.
I try again. “What were you thinking about before?”
"Jack."
Well, fuck. There goes that conversation. "No wonder you weren't smiling."
"I don't want my parents to know what he did. It's not to protect him—it's to protect me."
"You? You didn't do anything wrong."
Her lip disappears as she turns back to the window. "I didn't, but to be honest, I now see that he wasn't my Mr. Forever. I should have realized that. I shouldn’t have let it get this far. I should have broken it off...
“I am remembering things, times...I didn’t say anything or I just pacified him.”
“Pacified?” My grip of the steering wheel tightens. “Tell me he has an anger problem and ever hurt you. I swear to God, he won’t live to see tomorrow.”
Sami flashes me a grin. “Not like that. He hurt me by cheating. By pacifying I mean that I agreed to the fancy restaurants when I really wanted a burger from The Suds.”
“The Suds,” I repeat with a grin. “You know, we could go there after we leave your parents. They still bring the food to the window of the car.” It is a drive-in restaurant about a mile away that never read the memo that the 1950s are a thing of the past.
“Right now, I don’t really feel like eating.”
“I do.” I wiggle my eyebrows.
Sami reaches over and pushes my arm.
“Ow.” I fake pain. “Maybe I should ask Jack if you were violent to him.” As soon as his name escapes my lips, I know I made a mistake. It’s as if I’d hit a switch and Sami’s smile is gone.
She sighs. “He wasn’t my forever. If he was that special someone, he wouldn't have tried to make me into someone different, and he sure as hell wouldn’t have cheated on me. I didn't see what was right before me. I missed the signs...just to be married. I'm as guilty as he is. And now my parents have to pay the price."
"Sami, I'll do whatever you want. Although, for the record, protecting that asshole isn't high on my list." I squeeze her knee. "Protecting you—I'll do that."
And then we turn the corner and see it.
"Shit," Sami mumbles.
She's right.
Shit.
Fuck.
What the fuck?
In her parents’ driveway is a small black BMW. It sticks out like a sore thumb in this neighborhood, and there's no doubt to whom it belongs.
I pull along the side of the street and lean over the gearshift. "Sami, go with it. You want this to be you, to be your decision, then we'll make it about you. That asshole won't know what hit him."
She nods, but her eyes are wide open.
Doubt, uncertainty...they’re all staring back at me in a kaleidoscope of greens.
Those aren't the emotions I want to see.
I want passion and laughter.
I want confidence and attitude.