Worth The Wait

Worth The Wait cont... available on #KindleUnlimited

"Sam." He says, extending his hand to shake mine.
I take his hand and shake it softly. "Thank you for helping me up, and I'm so sorry for knocking you down." I tell him while looking down.
"It's okay," he says while I give him a "yeah right" look. "Really!" he says while smiling at me. "It's not every day that you meet new people and get ran over in the process!" I smack my forehead and groan. "Hopefully your day gets better, Emily. Hopefully I'll see you around." He calls as he walks backwards toward the building.
"Yeah, hopefully Sam. See you around." I wave. "Sorry again," I yell. As he turns around, he doesn't say anything, just lifts his hand and waves.
After that initial day of meeting Sam, we were quite inseparable. We found every reason to meet up. We studied together, ate together, even hung out after classes were over. He kept me grounded. When I wanted to give up on school, he made me believe I could make it and I did. We both graduated from Yorktown University four years later. Upon graduation, we decided to stay in Virginia. We both loved the mountains and most of our friends were there also.
He proposed to me on Valentine's Day. We were at a party with a bunch of people that we had graduated with, when he got down on one knee and told me I would make him the happiest person in the world if I would marry him. I gleefully said yes, and we were married a year later.
Being married to Sam was a gift. Every single day, he never failed to tell me that he loved me. He never failed to let me know how much he needed me. Not needed in a dependent way, but in a "we live for each other" way. It could be borderline obsessive, but it worked. I always expected him to be there. You never really "plan" on losing someone. He cheated me. He left me here to live without him. But he gave me my boy, Sam. It's hard to look at him sometimes because he looks so much like his dad. That crooked smile and those beautiful, big brown eyes.

We had a plan. We were going to live here for a couple of years and then move west. I always wanted to see the desert. I wanted the heat. But now I'm stuck. Stuck in this house that we loved with no way out. There is no way I could ever leave here. Samuel will always be here. I can't just leave him. I know that he is never coming back physically,
but this is where he is. I loved him with everything that I had, and I think that I took him for granted. Our daily lives were so repetitive. Wake up. Cook Sam breakfast. Him running around in his boxers with just his work shirt and tie on. Him kissing me goodbye as he rushes out the door. Every. Damn. Day. I could do it with my eyes closed. I could anticipate what came next. I took it and him for granted. I never stopped to be "in the moment." I let the moment go along with the flow. These are the times where I wish I was close to any type of family. I have a mother, but she could care less about me and Sam. We don't quite fit into her lifestyle. We grew up poor and struggling. But Mama found a man while I was in college and he decided that she was done being a mother and needed to concentrate on being a wife. So, Mama followed the money and left me to fend for myself. She wasn't even at my wedding. Her excuse was that she couldn't leave her husband Fred alone in Vegas. He doesn't like to be alone. It was probably a good thing that she didn't show because she is the type that would make noise during "Does anyone have any reason why these two should not be married." Yeah, she's a keeper. So, I just sit in my rocker on my wraparound porch and drink my coffee. Samuel's parents are pretty great at least. I loved hanging out with them while Sam was alive. Now though, it's hard to be around them. All of this sadness and anger together in one room. Nope, I'll pass.

CHAPTER 3
Bet you wonder how Sam passed huh? Well. That's where the anger comes in. Sam was twenty-five years old when he passed in an auto accident. He wasn't even in the car when it happened. Go figure, right? He was helping some young guy on the side of the road change a tire. A goddamn tire! He was supposed to stay home with us that day. He tells me, "I just have to drop these papers off and then I'll be right back." I am still pissed off! Why couldn't he just wait until the next day? Why didn't that guy know how to change his own tire? Why wasn't the woman who hit my husband paying attention? This woman was looking for her lipstick. Her fucking lipstick! Her car was drifting right and hit the back of the young guy's car. The young guy's car hit Sam, who was bent down by the newly removed tire. The car fell on him and Sam bled out at the scene. I didn't even get to say goodbye. But these assholes, Mr. "I can't change a tire" and Ms. "I couldn't wait to check my purse" are fine. They were so "shaken up" that they had to go to counseling. Fuck you and your counseling! My husband is dead. Never coming home. Never going to see his son grow up. Never. Because he was helping some boy whose father never taught him to change a tire! Sam should have stayed home. He would still be with me. I am angry at him too. I think "pissed off" are the right words. So yeah, I am bitter. I do not want to be around anyone. I just want to be left alone. There is no comfort. There are no words that will make it better. There is no magic pill that will take the pain away. There is only anger. My son doesn't deserve this, but it's what I know. It's how I cope. It's all that I think about. It happened three years ago, and it still feels new. I relive that knock at the door every damn day.
"Mrs. Thompson, I'm Sheriff Brown. I need you to have a seat. Is there anyone else here with you?"
"No." I reply nervously. "What happened, what's wrong?" I start to cry.

"Mrs. Thompson, I'm afraid that there has been an accident and your husband Samuel didn't make it." There was nothing left to hear. I blanked out. I saw the sheriff's mouth moving, but it was all white noise. When the sheriff and deputy walked out, I was still sitting on the couch staring at nothing. I am not even sure how long I sat there come to think of it. I knew that when they left me it was light outside. By the time I noticed that someone was shaking me, it was nighttime or early morning. Sam's dad was the one shaking me. His Mom was crying by the door. All I know is that when I "came to" I let out one of the highest screams I have ever heard. My throat was raw by the time I was through. Samuel's mom was holding on to little Sam when I stopped screaming. In that moment, I forgot he was there. I will never forget baby Sam's face. He was so scared. I put that fear on his face. My screaming caused that look. I completely shut down after that. Everything made me mad or made me cry. Poor Sam. Not only did he lose his dad, but his mother's sanity also. Samuel's parents stayed with me for about a month before I told them that it was better if they went back home. I wasn't trying to be rude but seeing her cry and trying to stop while I was around was tough to see. She needed to grieve for her son, and I needed to rage. They told me to call if I ever needed anything, but I needed my husband and they couldn't help with that so, needless to say, I didn't call.
About a week after my in-laws went back home, there was a knock at the door. I open it to find that bitch that was looking for her lipstick. Her therapist thought it would be a good idea to apologize in person to gain some closure. Huge mistake lady. It must've been the look on my face that told her that she had better run! And run she did, with me chasing her yelling "You have the nerve to bring your ugly ass over here to apologize! Bitch, YOU KILLED MY HUSBAND!" It was a sight to see. She had barely made it to the car to get in! I picked up a rock and smashed her driver's side window just as she was kicking up dust, fishtailing it out of my driveway. How dare she? Fuck her!
After the encounter with the lady, I was left alone. By everyone. That story got
around, and I basically was the "town terror." If I had to go to the store, I pretty much had
any cashier that I wanted. No one wanted to be in front or behind me. Post Office, DMV,

you name it. I had and still have the place to myself. Sometimes it gets lonely out here— especially while Sam is at school—but I get over it quickly though, the loneliness. I don't deserve to be happy. God took that away from me when he took my husband.