Making his way to her bedroom, he pocketed Maddie’s daily planner and some earrings from her jewelry box. There were a several personal items that she had wanted before the movers came the next day, and he tracked down every one of them, stopping in a small bedroom that had been made into a makeshift office and library. He grabbed the novel she was currently reading and turned to leave when his attention was caught by a large collection of untitled books on one of the shelves. Curious, he pulled one out and looked at the cover.
Madeline’s Journal - 1998
Flipping the cover open, he looked at the writing, knowing it was penned by Maddie’s hand. He’d never known Maddie had kept a journal, and it was obviously a habit she had followed for years. There were at least thirty journals on the shelves. The entries were sporadic. Sometimes she went for several months without writing anything, and sometimes something was entered every day. He was about the close the book when one particular entry caught his eye.
I lost my virginity today. Lance and I have been dating for five months and I honestly didn’t feel I could deny him anymore. I wish I had. It hurt, and even though it only lasted a few minutes, it seemed like forever. I just lay there and prayed for the whole experience to be over. Lance didn’t tell me he loved me. He never has, and I really don’t think he actually does. Why am I in this relationship? Am I so desperate to forget Sam, so incredibly lonely that I’m settling for something I really don’t want? I feel so damn confused. I hate Sam Hudson, yet as I was hoping for a quick end to my first sexual experience, all I could think about was the fact that it should have been Sam.
Sam’s jaw clenched as he read, his fingers tightening on the journal as he read the next entry two weeks later.
I broke it off with Lance. I couldn’t take it. Other women think I’m insane because he’s handsome, wealthy and popular on campus, but that doesn’t matter to me. All I know is that I can’t bear for him to touch me anymore. I have to get totally drunk to even let him have sex with me. It doesn’t feel right. It isn’t right. Maybe sex is good for other women because most of my classmates rave about it, but it isn’t for me. Lance told me I’m not a sexual woman and that I’m cold and frigid. Maybe he’s right, but I can’t help but think that he just isn’t the right guy. Anyway, I’m done with sex. Until I can find a guy who makes me feel the way that Sam used to make me feel, I’m not having sex again. It makes me feel so lonely and hopeless, even worse than actually being alone.
Sam slammed the book closed, unable to read about Maddie’s pain and confusion for another moment. It had been so similar to his sexual experiences in the past. When he had had sex with a woman he’d needed to pretend it was Maddie to even get through it. The act brought physical release, but it had also left him so empty inside that sometimes he went without for very long periods of time unable to stomach being with any woman who wasn’t Maddie.
Obviously, she had never tried it again, never found a man she wanted to be with in all the years they were separated.
She abstained and I tried to pretend, leaving both of us miserable in different ways.
Sam put the book back in its place on the shelf and pulled out the previous volume, making himself read the entries from his time together with Maddie. He ran a frustrated hand through his hair as he read, his chest aching as he read about how heartbroken she had been about the incident with Kate. It wasn’t as if he hadn’t known, but reading her words brought him back to that time and place, made her pain so much more real, and his as well.
That was the day his soul had nearly died. Honestly, he had thought it was gone completely until he had seen Maddie again and she had dug down deep inside him to bring it back to life. The memories had never faded and he’d lived with his actions ever since. Constantly, over and over, torturing himself with thoughts of the pain he had caused Maddie and the agonized expression on her face for years now. Every day he had despised himself, wondering if he had done the right thing, hating himself for breaking her faith in him. His only consolation had been the fact that she was safe, unharmed. But it was a cold comfort in comparison to seeing that broken look on her beautiful face, reliving the experience day after day, and hating himself for being the man who had betrayed her trust.
As he closed that volume, he struggled for breath, letting himself actually feel the loneliness and desolation that had been a part of him for so long. Until he had seen Maddie again. Until she had healed him and brought him back to life. The vulnerability she brought out in him might terrify the hell out of him, but the thought of being without her was a hell of a lot worse than struggling through his fear.
Distractedly, he pulled out the most recent journal, flipping through the pages until he got to the last one, a recent entry that had only been written several days ago.
Sam still hasn’t told me that he loves me. I know he must love me because I don’t think I could feel the way that I feel if he didn’t feel the same. He proves his love in so many ways and I can feel it in his touch. I guess sometimes I just wish he would say it. It would actually be the first time in my entire life that someone said those words to me, and more than anything, I want to hear them first from Sam.
Sam replaced the book on the shelf with more force than necessary. “Fuck! Is it true? Have I never told her?” His fists clenched and his brows drew together, thinking furiously about the past few weeks. He had told her how much he needed her…which he did. But love? Had he really not said those words to her?
“Selfish bastard,” he mumbled, chastising himself. She had told him so many times, sometimes with him prompting her, but others when he didn’t. Maddie had opened herself to him completely, soothing his soul with her words. And he had never said the words back to her.
His heart sank, realizing that she had never had anyone tell her they loved her. Not once. Ever. Hell, even he had heard it from his mother and occasionally from his brother, and now from the woman who meant more to him than anything or anyone else in the entire world.
“I love you, Madeline,” he whispered huskily to the empty room, hoping she could feel it across the distance that separated them.
Sam thought about texting her, but it was something she needed to hear in person. Over and over again. It wasn’t that he didn’t love her. Maybe the problem was that he loved her so damn much that the words seemed inadequate.
There were packing boxes everywhere, everything in place for the movers to come tomorrow and start packing and moving Maddie’s stuff to his place. He pulled a few of them in front of the bookshelves, packing her journals carefully into the boxes and sealing them with a roll of strapping tape.