“I need help.” It’s the first time in my life I’ve admitted it. “And I have no idea where to turn.”
He reaches through the window and takes the top of my arm. “We’re all here for you, mate.”
All. That’s not true. Ava’s not here. But I appreciate his sentiment.
I inhale and push myself upright, noticing Sam’s in his running kit. “Been or going?” I ask.
“Been. Come on, we need to get some food inside you.” He backs away, and I look back to my office door.
“I can’t move the cabinet,” I admit, pulling Sam back to the window. He looks across to the door and rolls his eyes, clambering up into my office. “Thanks,” I say quietly as he paces across the room, me following slowly. He takes one side, me the other. He knows I’m not just thanking him for his help moving this lump of wood.
We shift the cabinet back into place, and I take an encouraging breath as I leave my office. The Manor is quiet as we walk through side by side. “Full English?” Sam asks when we make it to the bar.
I blow out my cheeks. I should be hungry after days of only a liquid diet, but I’m not sure I can stomach it. “Just some toast.” I take a seat in the corner while Sam orders, looking at the screen of my phone and clearing the endless texts and missed calls. None from Ava.Still.
Sam returns with coffees, loading mine with sugar and setting it in front of me. My hands shake as they carry it to my mouth, and it doesn’t escape Sam’s notice. “Talk to me,” he orders softly. “What the fuck happened?”
“I realized everything is impossible,” I admit, looking past him when I see John in the foyer. He clocks me, sees Sam too, and nods, impassive, before carrying on his way.
“Is drink the answer?”
I shake my head. “There is no answer.”
“There’s always an answer.” He stirs his coffee, his full attention on me. “You’re in love with her.”
I glance away. “I don’t know what love is.”
“Don’t bullshit me,” he says, sounding a little irate. “You know what love is. Love is scary. It hurts and, correct me if I’m wrong, you are in agony right now.”
“What are you saying?”
He moves in, resting his elbows on the table. “I’m asking you if it hurts more with her in your life, or without her in your life.”
“Stupid fucking question.”
“Then why the fuck are we having this conversation?”
My fist balls, my knuckles turning white. “We’re having the conversation because even though I’m in agony, I know Ava is not. She’s—”
“How do you know?”
I sit back, frowning. “What?”
“How do you know she’s not hurting?”
“Sam, she spent over a week doing everything she could to avoid me. Every time I thought we’d made progress, she’d back away again.”
“Yes, because she’s probably falling in love with you and, like I said, love is fucking scary.”
His words, a near mirror image of John’s, have my mouth snapping shut. “Then why hasn’t she called?”
“You walked away from her.”
“How do you know that?” I ask.
“I may or may not be having a little text banter with that fiery red-headed friend of hers. And she said Ava is a walking corpse at the moment. Lost. Miserable.” He nods down my seated form. “Not unlike yourself.”
She’s suffering? She’s not... relieved that I’m gone from her life? “She doesn’t know what happens here, Sam. She knows nothing of my history. She’s completely in the dark.”