Let It Be

Chapter 31

Later that week, while playing trains with Mason after school after I had fully recovered, I felt a strange sensation. It took me a few minutes to realize its origin: it was immortal. Somehow I knew that Sam was upset. Very upset.

I pulled out my cell phone, deeply concerned. He answered slowly, on the fourth ring. "Bonjour, ma cherie," he said softly.

"Sam," I asked, charging ahead, "are you okay?"

With forced humor he replied, "Why would I not be okay?"

"I felt you crying."

He was quiet for a few moments too long. "I do not really want to talk about it," he replied softly after a too long silence.

"Are you sure? Did something happen?" I knew what it was about, but I didn't really want to face the fact.

"You happened, Abigail," he sighed. It wasn't accusing, it wasn't resentful, but it was full of sorrow.

"I'm so sorry, Sam," I breathed.

"Not your fault," he responded.

I didn't want to force him to talk about it. I just told him I was there for him when he wanted to talk, that I loved him, and we hung up.

But I didn't sleep much that night, kept awake with sorrowful thoughts.

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Sam was tired the next few days, and didn't want to talk about anything. We just sat in companionable silence while we were together, him just relaxing while I fretted and worried the entire time, together or not. His eyes were often red, and I knew it was from crying and lack of sleep because he was thinking about something.

"Sam," I eventually said when I showed up at his house after dinner one night, "Please, just talk to me."

He looked away, running his hands through his hair. He was trying to keep his temper under control, but it came through in his self-inflicted frustration. "Abigail, tell me the truth. Are you going to accept me or not? I deserve to at least know."

I looked away, a deep breath shaking my chest. I'd thought about it so much, too much. But this was a segue into what I'd wanted to say for a while now.

Before I had a chance to answer, though, he continued in frustrated tones, on the verge of losing his temper. He was hurt.

"I do not even know what you want. I have no idea what to expect anymore. All I know is that you want to be with me, and sometimes I even wonder about that. What is going to happen? Will you refuse to accept me, but still spend mortal life with me? Will you accept me, but not become immortal? Will you become immortal but not accept me? You don't have forever to decide, Abby. It has been six months already. Half your time is gone. If it has not happened yet..." He groaned into his hands in frustration. "I do not even know what to think anymore."

I understood where he was coming from, but I couldn't put his mind at ease, not all the way, not yet. "Sam, I'm not ready to decide on immortality or not yet. It's terrifying. You had immortality forced upon you, but I get the opportunity to think it through first. It's a lot to comprehend, and it's scary. Can you understand that?"

He huffed towards the sky, but nodded reluctantly.

"However," I added slowly. "I've decided to accept you."

A giant grin crossed his face as he looked back into my eyes. "Really?"

"Yes, I've been trying."