Act Two // Book One

Chapter Twenty Five

Samantha was relieved when Harry steered clear of her for most of that morning.  She wouldn't have known what to say to him anyway.  She could hear him in the other room and though she suspected he was still "cleaning up" she didn't see him again for another couple hours. 

Harry finished putting the last picture back that he'd taken down.  He wasn't sure why Samantha had gotten so angry.  Where had he misstepped?  Wasn't this how things were supposed to go?  He had to let go of Gwen in order to move on with his life.

Didn't he?

He stared at the doorway into the kitchen, knowing full well Samantha was just behind it, sitting at the counter while she angrily tapped away on her computer.  He lifted his hands onto his hips and let out a deep sigh.  Well, he supposed he'd avoided this conversation long enough.

He glanced over at Rufus, quietly sprawled out on the floor,

"Wish me lucky, Buddy."

He rounded into the doorway and stopped.  He was right, she was seated at the island counter, angrily typing on her computer.  He folded his arms over his chest, leaning against the doorway,

"I don't understand why you're angry."  Samantha looked up at him over the screen of her laptop.  Harry threw his arms out when he saw she was still angry, "What?  I asked you for a clean slate-"
"That didn't need to include Gwen."  She interrupted.

Harry's hands dropped to his sides, clapping against his jeans,

"Watts, I'm just trying to show you that I'm ready."

Samantha's eyebrows pulled together,

"Ready?  Ready for what?  Ready to erase every woman you were ever with before me?"  She slid off the stool as she walked towards him, "When did I ever ask you to do that?  What is it that you think you need to prove to me?  That you were some goddamn saint before we met?  You forget we weren't exactly best friends the day we met.  I'm well aware of your past."

Harry's eyes widened,

"My past?  You make it sound like I set up shop outside of a whore house."
"Don't be over dramatic."

He took a step towards her,

"I don't..."  He stopped, his hip leaning against the island while he chewed on the inside of his lip nervously, "I don't know how to navigate through this."

Samantha's face softened.  Finally he was relating to her through understanding rather than anger.  It was a small step, but at least now she was being allowed inside a little further.  She took a few steps towards him,

"I know."
Harry's eyes met hers,

"I am trying to get past this point where the sight of her face or the mention of her name doesn't make my heart fall into my feet."

Samantha lifted her hand to his cheek,

"You lost her when you least expected to lose her.  And then you lost yourself in the pain of that.  I think you feel like allowing that to happen made you weak."  She shook her head gently, "It didn't."
No one had ever so succinctly put into words exactly what was happening in his head.  He lifted his hand to her wrist,

"I don't know if I'll ever be able to let her go."  He admitted softly.

"I don't expect you to.  I will never let go of Tabitha.  We loved them and letting them go is not the proof that we've gotten over those losses."

Harry let out a deep sigh that made his shoulders relax and the knots in his stomach disappear.  He squeezed her wrist,

"I'm sorry for..."  He stopped, "I don't even know.  Making you mad?"
Samantha giggled, taking her hand down from his cheek,