The Pardon

If you had told me three weeks before Sam Uley's disappearance that he would fall out of love with me I wouldn't have believed you. Shit if you told me the day he returned from, wherever the hell he ran off to, that he would break my heart I would have laughed in your face.

Sam was mine: he was my life, my soulmate, my best friend, my truest ally and I was all of those things for him and more. I was his lover, his tutor, his caretaker, his partner in crime and day-dreaming, but most importantly I was his fiancé.

He could never have left me because we were so closely connected to leave me would be like ripping out a part of himself.

I spent two weeks after his disappearance crying, screaming, bargaining with God and nature to return him to me safely because I knew there was no way Sam would left me on his own accord. Sam was noble, brave, smart, compassionate, and loving…

So there I lie, frozen still in my room for over forty-eight hours after he broke up with me. Waiting for him to come back, to apologize, to admit he made a mistake. If he didn't, then I could be certain it was not him that returned, not My Sam. It would mean that some sort of pod-person had captured My Sam, and replaced him with this massively overgrown and heartless version of of My Sam.

My Sam needed me as much as I needed him, maybe even more. So I waited, I ignored my mother's knocks on the door, my little brother's pleas to eat or talk, my father's words of advice through the cracks—because they didn't know, they couldn't understand me or My Sam.

I wasn't the kind of girl who cried easily. This is one of the things that Sam loves so much about me, that and my collarbone, which he expertly kissed and nibbled whenever he got the chance. So I didn't cry as I waited in silence, patiently counting down the minutes even though my stomach, my heart, my head were all screaming for release or relief, I didn't move. I had to stay strong.

Eventually my family left me to my burial shroud, which only My Sam could rescue me. Days passed. 4 days, 6 hours and 32 minutes before I felt the presence. I knew someone was on the other side of the door, I could hear them but they didn't speak, just stood there breathing deeply, inhaling loudly. So I lie there in silence, waiting, listening to the Breather on the other side of the door.

As I look back on it, I knew then that it was Sam, I could feel him, but I was too scared to face him. That might sound ridiculous to some, that I could feel him and I would laugh too, because I know that those some have never loved this way, with their whole heart and soul.

True love leads to true heartbreak that I know even now, after having experienced it, was not worth the pain. The pain you feel everyday as you are forced to relive memories, like this one, that replays like a movie in my head as I prepare for Sam's wedding. Sam's wedding where I will be standing not in my rightful position to his left, but much farther down as a bridesmaid for the woman who stole the only real thing I would ever have.

"Lee Lee, please open the door," his voice is strained, in pain.

I spring out of bed too quickly and feel dizzy, two days lying flat without food and I'm disorientated. I stumble to the door, ripping it open to see him.

I throw myself into his arms before he could say another word, because I know why he is here.

"You look so sick Lee Lee, you have to eat," Sam pleads, lifting me off of my feet as I sway.

I don't respond with words because they're useless in times like these. I launch an assault of kisses all over his face until I find his lips, which are stiff and held in a tight line.

I can't hold back the tears of rejection and his arms tighten around me as he lowers me on the bed, staring down at me with such tenderness that I cry harder. I wail, releasing all the tears I have held back since he ripped me apart.

"Sam," I attempt to speak but only one word will comply and I shake even harder with tears. His lips crash down on mine and I gasp and moan, his tongue dancing with my own, the most wonderful feeling.

"I love you."

I still don't know who said it first, I would like to believe it was him, like to hold on to the fact that even in the final hour, the last days before he met Emily, he loved me the most. I guess it doesn't matter who said it first, but it was followed by a downpour of proclamations.

"I love you. I love you so much."

"I will never hurt you."

"I love you more than life it's self."

"I love you more."

"I need you."

"I need you."

"I'm yours."

"I'll never leave you again."

That's the one that burns, even now as I apply mascara to my long lashes with only minutes till I have to walk down the aisle. It was the only promise Sam ever broke the words that played over and over. I'll never leave you again.

I reacted to that claim the only way I knew how back then, with complete trust. I was a fool.

When we get the signal I smile at Jared and he holds his arm out to me with a sympathetic smile. I resent the pity and stupid pat on the arm, but I stay silent. The music begins and I watch as little Claire drops yellow rose petals that match my dress down the aisle. I count my breaths until I reach twenty-five and we get the cue to walk, the maid of honor and the best man in this disgusting charade.

Jared kisses my cheek gently as we reach the end and we part, taking our places. I try not to look out into the crowd, I know they will be looking at me.

So many of them wondering when I was going to break down, when I was going to scream, to rant, to ruin this beautiful wedding—this beautiful wedding that should be my own. But I have no plans to, and I dig my fingernails deeper into my palm as I watch Sam walk out, his face a perfect mask of calm; the look he used to make when we lie naked wrapped tightly together.

"God Leah, you are the most beautiful girl in the world. I'm so sorry," he continued to apologize even after we began to make love; his strong, warm body hovering over me as I cried with relief, from pure happiness and pleasure.

We had been together like this before, but the feeling now— the love, the joy was beyond me. I clung to him, crying as he rocked back and forth, slow and steady. Sex with Sam was not about pleasure or release (that of course was part of it) but it was so much more a ritual, an experience of physically joining our souls. We breathed in sync, our bodies rocking together, our arms and legs intertwined, our eyes locked; we were one.

"Sam, I love you. I want to be with you forever. Please don't leave me again," I begged as I near my climax, he was deep inside of me and I clenched onto him, his hands kneading into my back he held me closer.

"Never, Leah. It's me and you, Lee Lee, forever."

I had imagined in the weeks leading up to the wedding that when Sam came down the aisle he would not look at me. Shame if not guilt for sure would keep him from causing me anymore pain, from looking me in the eyes at the lowest point in my life. I was wrong, his eyes went directly to me, as they always did after Emily. I dug my nails in deeper, suppressing the heat that threatened to boil over and cause me to break free of this dress and run away from this mockery.

I looked away and I could hear his heartbeat race. Did he really think what the rest of these people thought? That I could destroy the happiness moment of his life? Didn't he know? Couldn't he understand that no matter how much he hurt me I could never hurt him? Never.

He had given me the only happiness I was ever destined to have and in return I made a promise. A promise to him, to Emily, to myself, to the world… I would leave today and I would never return, I would give him the ultimate pardon, because I loved him just that much.