by Len Webster
Beth: Number three?
His heart now pounded against his chest. Because he knew exactly what this third rule meant.
Sam: 3. You never speak to a girl named Meredith Driessen.
Beth: Why?
Sam: Because I think I could have loved her if this had never happened.
Beth: You are NOT committed to me for life, Sam. Choices, remember? This baby is not going to be in your way of falling in love with her.
Sam: I want it to be.
Beth: Then you make your dad look like a stand-up guy. We’ll talk about where we go with all of this tomorrow.
Sam: Beth, promise me you’ll follow the rules. I really need you to do this for me.
Beth: I can never ever speak to Meredith Driessen?
Sam: Never. Ever.
Beth: It’s a shame you won’t let your heart win. Samuel Michaels doesn’t fall in love … and I know that all too well. And you want to. It’s just too bad. You deserve a whole lot more than you give yourself.
Instead of replying, Sam exited his conversation with Beth and then opened his one with Meredith. He bit the inside of his cheek as he decided whether to answer the pleas of his heart or the moral screams from his head.
Then Sam made a choice.
One for him.
And one for Meredith.
Sam: Meredith, I can’t take you to school tomorrow. I’m sorry.
Seconds ticked by.
Seconds that felt like hours.
And hours that felt like torturous days.
Then she replied.
Meredith: You never have to be sorry, Sam.
At that exact moment, with the aching in his chest, he knew that he was already in love with Meredith Driessen.
And I can never openly and honestly love her.
chapter twelve
MEREDITH
Present
“I don’t know, Margot.” Meredith shook her head. “It’s just been a long time since I’ve been in town and …”
Margot grasped her arm and leant in close, intimidating her. “Now, listen here, Meredith Driessen. It’s Friday night, and I’m ready to drink away the memory of my six-year-old student groping my rear end. So please?”
“Mar—”
“It’s just Phil …”
“Okay—”
“And Sam,” Margot revealed with a wicked smile.
Meredith’s shoulders sagged as her heart raced against her chest. “Sam’s here?”
“Please, Meredith? I know this must be hard for you, but another good pub is almost twenty minutes away … But if you want, we can forget drinks and do something else.” Margot released her grip on Meredith’s arm and then plastered a smile that anyone could see through. Guilt tripper. Margot had always been one when they were teenagers, and it was evident that even in her twenties, she continued to do so.
“Fine.” Meredith sighed. “Lead the way.”
A squeal escaped from Margot as she did a small celebratory jump and then rushed inside the Old Warren Meadows Pub. Meredith watched intently as the doors swung to a stop. It seemed the wood of the door hadn’t changed. Nothing in the suburbs had. The only thing that had changed was his feelings for her. And that was the worst change. It had happened so quickly that she never had the chance to shield herself from the pain. So she swallowed it until she had the chance to leave suburbia and the country.
Seeing Samuel Michaels again would destroy the numbness, and she knew disaster lay ahead. Closure did, too. But as Meredith thought about it, the swirls of different, unknown emotions inside her were not warranted. In fact, unwanted also. If there was anything she had learnt in the seven years they had been apart, Meredith Driessen couldn’t take another chance that he would obliterate her heart. Not this time. It couldn’t be justified a second time around.
“You can’t be that Meredith anymore,” she whispered to herself. “He has a son, and you’re his son’s teacher. Don’t give in to hope, Meredith. Not this time. You can do this.” And with that final ounce of encouragement, she pushed the doors apart and stepped foot inside the old pub.
Loud conversations surrounded her, as did the laughter. Meredith shut her eyes and listened. For once, she welcomed the sound of the English language and Australian accent. She’d been so accustomed to Dutch that it had become an extension of her. But as much as she had wanted to forget Australia, it was home. She had left her shattered heart behind when she had left. When Meredith had packed, it felt as if she had gently laid the small fragments on her bed next to a blank piece of paper. It was empty for a reason. It was symbolic of her heart and of Sam’s love.
There was nothing.
His love for her and her heart …
Was non-existent.
“Meredith?” a shaky Margot-sounding voice asked.
Meredith exhaled and then opened her eyes to the concerned expression on Margot’s face. “Yes?”
“We don’t have to sit with them. Better yet, we can leave. I’m sorry. You’re not ready …”
Meredith chuckled. “I’ve had seven years to be ready. I’m just nervous to see him … I’m scared, actually.”
“You are?” Her best friend’s light brown eyes flashed with curiosity and concern.
“Yes.” She nodded slowly. “I’m scared that when I speak to him, I won’t feel anything. Not a spark or a sense of pain. I’m scared I’ll feel nothing. And I’m terrified there’s a possibility I’ve wasted seven years of my life.”
The frown on Margot’s face deepened. “Then let’s go see. Tell me you’ll forgive yourself if you feel nothing. I know you, Mere. You’ll blame yourself. And you shouldn’t.”
The laughter and voices around them increased in volume and so did her heart’s beats. Uncomfortable, erratic beats that have been there since she was seventeen. Ever since he’d asked her to keep her words to herself. The same words that had labelled her heart as ruined for anyone after him. Meredith had believed there was no after, but she had been terribly wrong.
“Does he know I’m coming tonight?” The shake of Margot’s head was her answer. “We’re just going to surprise him?”
Margot scrunched her nose and then nodded. “More of a pre-emptive strike, Miss Driessen. Wasn’t that how he broke your heart so many times before?”
The old Meredith would have defended him. And the need to do so grew fierce, almost soul consuming. Instead, she took a deep breath and pressed her lips tightly together. Then she followed Margot towards the back of the pub and to the booths. With every step she took, she closed the distance between her heart and its weakness. Or killer. She was sure it was both. Samuel Michaels had always been both.
“You can do this,” she whispered to herself.
“What did you say?” Margot asked over her shoulder.
Meredith shook her head and mumbled, “Nothing.”
Suddenly, Margot halted her steps, and Meredith’s breathing hitched when she ceased her footsteps. Margot had always been a fraction taller than she had; no doubt, she had become a human shield for Meredith.
“Wanna scoot over for us?” Margot asked.
“Only if you buy us the next round,” a smooth and sturdy voice said. Meredith recognised the voice as belonging to Phillip Hall, Margot’s long-term boyfriend and Sam’s best friend. Meredith’s hands trembled, waiting to hear his voice and see his face for the first time since the train station encounter.
“I say the next two rounds, Marg—” Sam halted the moment Margot shifted to the left and finally exposed Meredith to the booth. His eyes widened, and surprise instantly filled every surface of his face. “Meredith.” Her name fell from his lips like a whisper, and her heart had slowly squeezed out his name in a beat.
Oh, no.
Her name jolted all her memories of him to resurface, more vivid than in the past. She knew it was a mis
take to come back. She should have stayed in the Netherlands, and she should have committed herself and her future to Jean Paul. But like she had known when she was thirteen, there would be no one else for her heart than Samuel Michaels.
Two shallow breaths later, Meredith slowly smiled at the man responsible for all the pain and suffering she had endured.
“Hello, Sam.”
He said no words. He only blinked then shook his head as if to see if she were real.
“Meredith, you’re back!” Phil interrupted the silence between them. Before Meredith could even turn her attention to him, Phil was out of the booth and wrapping her in his arms. A giant bear hug that was as familiar as the soapy and clean smell of Phillip Hall.
“It’s good to see you, Phil.” Meredith chuckled into his chest.
“All right, Hall, get off my best friend and come to the bar with me,” Margot said, pulling Phil away before Meredith could interject.
“Margot,” she called out.
“Keep our seats warm. We’ll be back!” And then Margot and Phil were lost in the crowd by the bar.
Sam cleared his throat. “Would you like to sit, Meredith?”
She tore her gaze off the pub patrons and shifted it to Sam. His eyes were planted on the oak table surface, and a frown was evident on his face. Meredith, nervous trembles and all, sat in the booth. She let her arms rest against the edge of the table as her fingers fiddled with each other. She was nervous. Her shaking legs were proof enough, and she mentally cursed herself. She was supposed to have grown since Sam. She was supposed to be better, stronger, and smarter. In reality, all the life lessons she had learnt through the years had disappeared in a matter of seconds.
“Welcome home,” Sam finally said once he tilted his chin up so their eyes could meet.
It had never left him. The sadness still swirled in his brown eyes. Sam still fought his demons, and that realisation heated her chest. She would have liked to believe that he finally found his happiness after she had left. She had told herself that to make herself feel better about her decisions.
“Thank you.”
Sam smiled. It had a touch of brokenness to it, but she remembered it well. “It’s been a long time, Meredith.”
“It has,” she agreed. “How are—”
“You didn’t call,” he interrupted once he had straightened his spine and squared his shoulders. His nostrils flared as anger consumed his facial expression.
“Called?” she asked, confused.
“I gave you my card at the station last week.”
“Oh,” she let out. “I … um … I threw it away.”
He winced. “What?”
“I. Threw. It. Away.”
“Why would you do that?”
She wet her lips as she swallowed the lump in her throat. “Because.”
“Because?” Sam raised his voice.
Meredith averted his glare until she heard his bothered exhale. “I couldn’t call you, Sam.”
“Look at me,” he instructed. Her eyes collided with his. The impact left an uncomfortable presence in her chest, right where her heart was meant to have been. But he had taken that a long time ago. “Meredith, did you try to kill yourself?”
I’ve tried several times before but not last week.
“No,” she honestly replied, hoping the curve of her lips appeared genuine enough for him.
Sam squinted at her then his shoulders lost their strength and he ended up slouching over the table. “I never thought I’d see you again after high school,” he admitted in a cold tone.
The disappointment reached her heart before her stomach. “Oh.”
“No,” he quickly said. “I didn’t mean for that to sound so harsh.”
And before she could even give it another thought, she let it slip. “You never have to be sorry, Sam.”
“Don’t,” he whispered.
Meredith silently gasped at not only how quickly she had reverted to her old self, but also the flash of rage she saw in Sam’s eyes. To save herself from further embarrassment, she quickly scrambled out of the booth. “I should … I should go. Tell Margot that I’m not feeling well. It was so good to see you, Sam. I’m so happy to see that you’ve achieved everything you set out to do when we were in high school. I’m so proud of you. We did everything right, it seems.”
Don’t cry.
Oh God, please don’t cry.
Sam twisted his body to face her. “I wouldn’t change what we did for the world, Meredith. You got to go to Europe. You must have had a great seven years.”
They were terrible.
It felt as if her entire body had begun to weep. Seven years of being stronger was a lie. A complete and utter lie. She had been a pretender for seven years.
“You’re never going to be good enough for me, Meredith. I choose Beth.”
The memory of his words infiltrated her mind. She remembered them so crisp and clear. Still as strong as she remembered.
“Good night, Sam,” she said softly as she shuffled backwards. Meredith gave him a small smile she knew he saw right through and then quickly made her way out of the pub. She didn’t look back as she rushed through the car park and down Warren Meadows’ main street towards home.
As she continued down the footpath, Meredith set her palm against her chest.
“There you are,” she said to her heart as she felt its rapid beats against her hand. “You’ve been gone for seven years … You should have stayed gone.”
chapter thirteen
SAM
Seven years ago
It had been two weeks since he last spoke to Meredith. Two weeks since he’d messaged her that he couldn’t take her to school. She must have understood what he’d meant because she gave him his space. She never asked if he’d pick her up or take her home, and she never approached him in class or by the lockers. The only thing Meredith did do was smile when he walked past her. She’d tried to say hello once, but Sam ignored her. He’d heard her steps falter and pause, but once he’d put greater distance between them, he heard her finally walk away. He knew—as much as it ached him—that what he was doing was right. Meredith always deserved better. Sam never wanted to hurt her, and by staying away, he avoided it.
“Hey,” Beth said, gaining his attention.
Sam set his spoon down next to his plate. “What’s up?”
“You’re destroying a perfectly good cheesecake and not in a good way.” She pointed at Sam’s dessert with her own spoon.
“Oh.” Sam glanced down to see the once perfectly sliced cake now cut into different sized pieces. “It’s good.”
Beth rolled her eyes. “You haven’t even had a bite of it. I swear it’s good.”
“I’m sure it is. I’m just not feeling it. You can have it.”
“What is going on with you, Sam?” she asked as she reached over and took his plate from him.
“Nothing.”
“Nothing?”
Sam leant in close. “Noth-ing.”
“It’s that girl, isn’t it? The one I’m not allowed to talk to?”
“Beth, stop. I don’t want to talk about her with you,” Sam said.
She pursed her lips, and then she dropped her spoon and swept her auburn hair over her shoulder. “You need to talk to someone about this. Why can’t it be me? I don’t know her.”
“You’re the reason I can’t have her,” Sam explained as he glanced down, the table blocking the sight of her stomach. “I can’t have Meredith in my life.”
Beth’s expression saddened as her bottom lip trembled. “You don’t have to do it, you know. You don’t.”
Sam sighed. He reached over and took his ex-girlfriend’s hand in his. “I can’t abandon you or the baby. I can’t be with her because I know I’ll fall in love with her, and I’ll break her heart with the truth
. I can’t do that to her.”
She squeezed his hand. “Don’t do this, Sam. I’ve already screwed up, but you haven’t. You can still be with her. All you have to do is let me and this baby go.”
Shaking his head, Sam covered their hands with his free one. “We both got screwed, but it’s life. And I’m not going to do that to you. I’m doing the right thing, Beth.”
“You’re not.” She pulled her hand free. “You’re destroying your chance at happiness because of my mistake. You shouldn’t have to pay for what I did.”
He tilted his head back and then sighed. “It was my mistake, too. This is our mistake, and I’m not going to let that kid suffer for it.”
“Then promise me something.”
Sam sat properly and frowned at Beth’s concerned expression. “What?”
Beth breathed out. “That you’ll go after her someday when we figure this all out. You’ll go after Meredith and be happy.”
“No.” He didn’t hesitate, and Beth flinched at his quick response. “I’ve already lost her, Beth. There’s no point. I don’t want anyone else.”
“You’re making a mistake.”
“Just because you think it’s a mistake doesn’t mean that it’s not the right thing to do. I have a chance to do the right thing, and this is it. Trust me,” he urged.
Beth picked up her spoon and cut off a piece of cake. “I don’t. Frankly, I shouldn’t. I can’t trust you with your own happiness. You’re giving up everything, Sam. Everything.”
The guilt pressurised in his chest, making it difficult for him to breathe. Beth wasn’t wrong. He’d given up everything the moment he made the choice to let Meredith go. Doing the right thing involved wrongness. But maybe that was what doing the right thing meant. If it were too easy, it wouldn’t be difficult, and it wouldn’t be justified. Right felt like wrong. And wrong certainly felt right. The way he felt for Meredith aligned with both. His heart torn over wanting, needing, and releasing her. For Sam, it felt as if his love for her was destined to fail before it even had the chance to bloom.
