Mine // Sam Wilkinson

Part // XLVII

Sammy's POV

I woke up from the sunlight seeping through the blinds next to my bed. I turned over to see someone lying next to me, but I didn't know who.

This can't be Claire. Claire's mad at me... She ran out after I...

Shit. I fucked up; I fucked up the best thing to ever happen to me. I fucked up more by having some random girl sleeping in my bed.

I got up to to splash water on my face when I heard a voice calling for me.

"Sammy?"

"Claire?" I peaked out through the door to see her lying on the right side of my bed.

I'm dreaming. There's no way she's still in Omaha after last night.

I saw her cracking a small smile, but I could tell it was fake.

"I know I fucked up," I ran to her side of the bed and got on my knees to be eye level with her, "I'm so sorry. I wish I could take it all back. I swear she kissed me and wouldn't let go and -" her lips attached to mine before I could finish.

How is she not mad at me? I'm not complaining but I can't say I would've forgiven her.

"Claire, wait."

"What?"

"How aren't you mad at me? How are you still here?"

"You would know if you weren't trashed when I got back here last night," she was fiddling with her fingers as she spoke, soft and slow.

She patted next to her on the bed, signaling me to sit.

"We need to talk about this. Before I scare the shit out of you, it wasn't your fault."

"Baby..."

"No. Listen to me."

I nodded. She was never the one to take charge like this.

She took a deep breath, "You aren't gonna be happy when I tell you this. Last night, when I left your house, Mack was still in your driveway. He drove me back to his house and let me cry forever. I fell asleep on his shoulder until Emma came in. I went upstairs to take a quick shower and Emma was talking to him. I snuck downstairs to listen to what they were talking about because they were being secretive, I could tell. He basically told her that Alyssa is his cousin and he like hired her or whatever to break us up so he could go after me. You cheating on me wasn't your fault," she grabbed my face, "I came home to tell you this but you were wasted off of your ass and said you wouldn't go to bed unless I came up with you. We got in an argument and you threw your basketball trophies at me. I tried to calm you down, but..."

I saw the pain in her eyes. I couldn't stand to know that I was the cause of that. She then showed me her bruises on her wrist where I grabbed her to stop her and a cut that had appeared on her from the trophies.

I felt the tears well up in my eyes. I stood off the bed and began pacing.

"You aren't yourself when you drink. I don't know how many times I tell you that but you continue drinking," she was whispering to hide her emotions, but I knew exactly how she felt. When I looked over at her, I noticed she wasn't making eye contact which was unlike her.

I sat on the floor and began rocking myself on my ankles, holding my face.

I fucked up once again.