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It's less than thirty minutes before Carl knocks tentatively at my door and I let her in. I'm nearly finished packing by then. She reports that Tuck is next door,being therefor Sam. Whatever that means for guys. I wonder if I'm being presumptuous in even thinking that he'd be upset and in need of support. Just because I am. Just because I'm fuckingheartbroken. I have Carl, and then I'll have my mom. Otherwise I don't know how strong I'd be in seeing through this whole 'letting Sam go' thing.

My heart hurts. It does. I know it sounds trite, but it does, ithurts.

But it's not just my heart. Emptiness haunts my insides, unsettling my stomach. Like something's not right and there's no way tomakeit right. Like hopelessness.

It's grief,I realize belatedly, and I feel guilty that I'm feeling even the smallest piece of what I felt when I lost Cam.

I'm not losing Sam, I remind myself, he just can't bemineanymore, and the whole point is so Idon'tlose him. It's a strange contradiction, giving him up to avoid losing him, and I'm so confused by the juxtaposition of right and wrong. What I intelligently know to be rightfeelswrong and what I know to be wrongfeelsright.

Carl watches me warily while I finish packing and I try to remain numb. Every now and then I swipe at my cheeks to banish rogue tears, and if Carl notices, she doesn't mention it.

Finally I grab the hotel stationary from the writing desk and write Sam a note. I don't want him to worry when he wakes up and realizes I'm gone. Carl will tell Tuck I left once I'm on the plane and it's up to Tuck to tell Sam whenever he thinks it best.

I hear muffled voices talking in hushed tones coming from next door, but don't bother trying to make out the conversation. It really is none of my business.

I rewrite the note no fewer than four times. In the end, I simply tell him that my mother flew in to retrieve me and that I didn't want to wake him to say goodbye. I thank him for everything he's done for me and for his support in dealing with Robin. And for saving my life. I tell him that he is still my best friend in the world and I love him for it. I beg him to try to enjoy what's left of his spring break. And I apologize.

A loud bang crashes against the wall, instantly followed by the unmistakable sound of shattering glass, and Carl and I both startle. My eyes dart to Carl's and I second-guess my decision for the hundredth time. Carl offers me a sympathetic smile.

"Anger issues," she shrugs. "He'll be fine."

"Yeah... yeah, you're right. Of course he will," I murmur.

But will I?

I slip the note half under our adjoining door, not wanting him to notice it until later, or preferably tomorrow morning.

"Come on," I urge Carl. "Let's get the hell out of here before I change my mind."

Carl stands and opens the door so I can roll out my luggage. "Maybe if you're so close to changing your mind about Cap it's because you're not sure you're doing the right thing..."

"Well I know the right thing for Sam isn't what he went through the past couple of days. Would you stay with Tuck if it meant he could end up hurt or arrested?" I ask her pointedly. "Or worse," I add more quietly, knowing she won't get the reference to Cam, but my words are more for myself than for Carl.

She doesn't answer me. She knows she couldn't possibly put herself in my shoes. She could never understand what it's like to wear my scars. To have to live with my choices, and their consequences. And Robin's perpetual shadow. To have no way of knowing when it might find me again, or what might happen the next time it does. But I have to do everything I can to get the target off of Sam's back, and to do that, I need to put enough distance between us so that he won't become collateral damage in the disaster that is my life.

I leave any remnants of Normal Rory behind - she was only ever an illusion anyway - and ride to the airport in a melancholic silence. Carl holds my hand, giving me a supportive squeeze every now and then.

My mom is waiting when we arrive at Miami International. She is disheveled and emotional and reminiscent of the version of her I remember from a year ago - from the aftermath - not the strong woman who in recent months had begun to heal along with me.

We say an emotional goodbye to Carl, and on the flight home, I tell my mother everything. Everything that happened, not only with Robin, but with Sam. She doesn't offer me advice, only love and support, while she tries with all she has to comfort my broken heart like only a mother could. I know she's in some semblance of shock, and I suspect it has more to do with Sam and me than what Robin did.

She whispers soothing words and promises that everything will be okay. But I know from experience that some wounds, they're permanent. That even if they heal, they scar so profoundly that you are never, everokayagain.

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