Page 120 of Always Love You More

Chapter 28

Sam

Iblinkmyeyesopen, and for a few precious seconds, I forget.

I live in a place where my brother isn’t gone.

Where last night didn’t happen.

Where a piece of my world isn’t missing.

But then, all at once, I remember.

I suck in a breath, tensing, and the arm that’s draped over my middle draws me in closer.

Jameson rouses behind me, his voice coming out low against my ear. “I’m here,” he tells me. “You’re okay.”

I shift, and he loosens his hold on me enough that I can turn to face him. I don’t say anything, just stare back at him, until I eventually bury my face in his chest. He brings his hand to the back of my head, lightly running his fingers through my hair.

The room is bright enough that it must be nearly midday by now. I don’t think we got to sleep until it was already early morning. “I should really call my sister,” I say quietly.

Jameson’s hand slows, and I pull back, moving to sit. I reach over him and grab my purse as he pushes up to lean against the headboard. The old wood creaks loudly beneath him, the noise making Billy stir.

“What’s happening?” he asks, jerking upright and dragging his hands down his face, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. “Everything all right?”

“Everything’s fine,” I answer. “Sorry we woke you up. I was just about to call my sister.”

He looks between me and Jameson. “Can I …? Uh … can I do anything?”

“Maybe call and check in at home,” Jameson says.

“Okay, yeah, sure,” Billy responds. “I can do that.” He stands, stretching his arms overhead, before moving into the hall.

I pull my phone from my purse and hold it, making no move to dial my sister’s number.

“Are you sure you don’t want me to call for you?” Jameson asks.

I nod. “I can do it. I’m just …” My shoulders drop. “I don’t know … preparing.”

His hand comes down on my leg, silently reassuring me that he’s here.

Like ripping off a Band-Aid, I dial the number and bring the phone up to my ear. It rings so many times that I think it might go to voicemail. I cling to the relief that I won’t have to tell her now, but then she picks up.

“Hello,” my sister’s voice comes through the line, and the familiarity of it has me starting to crumble.

“Cath,” I push out.

“What’s wrong?” she asks, that one word already giving me away.

“Where are you?”

“Home. Why?”

“I have to, um …”

Jameson squeezes my leg.

“I have to tell you something. Johnny he’s … um … he’s …” I can’t get the word out. I haven’t actually said it out loud yet.