All We Will Never Know

Chapter 18 - Peyton

Peyton fell back onto her bed, dramatically rolling to the side and pulling the comforter up to her chin. Beneath the sheets, her arms were tightly crossed, knees tucked into her chest. "Better sleep on the floor, wouldn't want something to happen if we are in the same bed," she said bitterly. While she was normally quiet and respectful, alcohol always made the sarcasm roll off her tongue with ease.

"Darling," Sam sighed, grabbing a pillow and tossing it onto the ground. "I love you." No arguing. No defense tactics. He walked to her side of the bed, leaning down to plant a kiss on her forehead.

As much as she wanted to turn away from him, she melted beneath his touch. "I love you too," she said instinctively, and then she began to cry, regretting her outburst. "You don't really have to sleep on the floor. I'm sorry."

She felt the bedding shift under her grip, the mattress giving as he slipped in behind her. He inched close, wrapping his arms around her waist and planting his chin over her shoulder. The warmth of his breath tickled her cheek. It sent a familiar shiver through her body, reminding her of what she had missed out on tonight. She ruined it for herself, she knew that. But the thought of going another day without knowing how they would feel together drove her mad.

"Get some sleep, beautiful," he whispered into her hair. "We have the rest of our lives to make up for tonight, don't forget that."

Peyton sniffled, though her tears were now flowing because of guilt. She had no reason to be mad at him. She had drank too much too fast, and Sam was the perfect gentleman. Once she drug him upstairs to an empty bedroom and tripped over her own feet trying to get undressed, he immediately stopped her.

"We can't do this," he had said softly.

She almost hadn't heard him, the blood pulsing through her entire body was far too loud. She wrapped her arms around his neck, smothering his beautiful Swedish mouth with her own. Only instead of kissing her back, instead of throwing her into the random bed in the random Tate family bedroom, he pulled away. "No, darling. You've been drinking. We can't."

Peyton was already an emotional drunk, so being turned down by her own boyfriend instantly sent her into a downward spiral. She cried for nearly an hour. She cursed at him, she called him names, she accused him of wanting to be with someone else instead of her. She said a million things that she didn't truly mean, and she was thankful that the truth about Darian and her not-so-intact virginity hadn't come out during her incoherent spat.

The entire time she had yelled at him, Sam simply sat on the bed beside her and stroked her hair, his eyes closed as if he were trying to sleep.

Eventually, Peyton had calmed herself down and allowed Sam to take her back home, where he promised to stay with her throughout the night. So far, he was holding up his end of the bargain, just as she knew he would. He was dependable and thoughtful and respectful and she knew she should consider herself lucky to be with someone like him. If only she could have gotten lucky too.

"What happens to us if you have to leave?" she asked in a whisper. The question seemed random, but it had been on her mind all day long, after their conversation in the hallway that morning.

Sam was quiet for a long time. She listened to his shallow breathing. She squeezed her eyes shut and prepared for the worst.

"Then we will stay in touch until I'm able to get my Visa," he said evenly. "I will visit you whenever I can, and eventually I'll be able to come back to you."

Peyton took in his words, then felt herself nod in agreement.

"Or," Sam began again. "You can come with me."