Chapter one

-The Hurtful Breakup-

XxX

-November 27-

The dinging of the oven and the delicious smell announced that the turkey was ready. Martin walked to the oven and pulled the turkey out. He placed the bird on the stove. He peaked in the turkey and saw the cranberry stuffing sizzling. It was just the way Aunt Bonnie cooked it. He smiled at his triumph.

He walked around the counter to pick up the mash potatoes and green beans to put them on the table. He stepped back with his hands on his hip. He took in a deep breath. He was proud of himself. It was the best Thanksgiving dinner that he had ever made. And all the hard work was for only one person: Samantha.

He and Samantha were invited to go to Vivian's house for Thanksgiving, but they turned it down or rather she did. Samantha wanted to act like a couple, but only if nobody was around to witness it.

Suddenly, there was a quiet knock at the door; it was barely audible. Martin floated his way across the living room and arrived at the door. Samantha stood in the doorway wearing tight fitting jeans and a dark purple blouse. Her long, blonde hair hung in curls over her shoulders. Martin was mesmerized by how beautiful she was. She gave him a bright smile.

Martin stared at her. It was as if he had seen her before joining the FBI. It was as if he had known her before. He recognized her personality.

It wasn't until Samantha cleared her throat did Martin zip back to reality and noticed the pumpkin pie in her hands. He stepped aside making room for Samantha to enter. He stared nervously at the pie.

Samantha saw his reaction and sighed. "Don't worry; I got it from the store."

A smile overtook Martin's mouth as he reached out for it. "Okay," he said with a grin. He kissed her on the mouth.

She turned around and smacked him playfully on the arm. "My cooking can't be that bad," she resented. Samantha took her coat off and placed it on the back of the couch. She walked over to the table and stared at the dinner set on the table. She knew that it took Martin all day to prepare this meal. She wanted him to know that she was grateful. "Wow, this is amazing," she said. She stuck her finger in the mash potatoes and brought it to her lips, tasting the creamy deliciousness.

Martin placed the pumpkin pie on the counter and turned his attention to the whole turkey. He sighed with the heavy task of carving it. He grabbed the knife and stared at it at first to decide where to start.

Samantha saw his expression on his face. She walked over to him and grabbed another knife from the drawer. She stepped up beside Martin and held up the knife; a smile proclaimed her face.

Martin stared at her, grateful for the help. As he carved into the turkey, his mind began to wonder about Samantha. Samantha was hard; she was hard to crack. Getting her to open up was like trying to get a pig to lay an egg, but she was compassionate, caring, and loving. She always tried to help with everything. And then there was the "we cannot tell anybody about our relationship" thing. It made his ego feel inadequate. It was like she was ashamed of being with him. Besides the relationship problem, Samantha's personality made him flock to her with created an unwanted dilemma.

Samantha dug the knife into the turkey. She glanced up and caught Martin staring at her with a blank look. "What?" she asked, not catching onto his thoughts.

"Nothing, I just …" he trailed off.

Samantha moved her face closer to his in order to hear him better. Her eyes widened. She knew what was coming. She gave a nervous smile and tilted her head to the side.

Martin put the knife down gently and stared at her for a moment. He sighed. "I just don't see why we have to keep this a secret." He searched her face for an answer.

Samantha lowered her eyes, afraid to look at him. Her fingers found her shirt, and they began to tug at the silky blouse. "I…I just don't think it's a good idea," she said in a low, unsure voice.

Martin crossed his arms and glared at her. He was about to drop the subject when something similar to anger arose in his heart. "I don't think this relationship is a good idea," he said, raising his voice. He stared at her with fire in his eyes.

Samantha felt all breath expel from her body. Her head shot up to stare at him intently. In a low and steady voice she said, "you don't mean that."

Martin stood unmoving staring at her wearing an angry face. He moved his jaw and worked his tongue in his cheek. "Don't I?" He paused. More anger bubbled to the surface. "I wish I never went out with you, Sam. You've been nothing but trouble and hard work."

Samantha's face contorted into hurt. She stumbled backwards grasping at her chest. Her breath had caught in her throat. She couldn't believe what he had just told her.

The room was silent, dead silent.

As soon as Martin released those horrifying words from his mouth, he immediately regretted it. The hurt in her eyes and the pain in her heart was unbearable. Her face was soft, tender, innocent. She looked like a helpless child. He felt guilty. Martin immediately threw his hand up and grasped onto Samantha's wrist. "I'm so sorry; I didn't mean it," he said in a low, caring voice.

Samantha stared at Martin. His face was full of sincere apology, but it hurt way too much. She looked down at Martin's hand. She felt like crying; tears stung her eyes. She lowered her voice and gazed back to Martin's eyes. Her eyes began to fill with tears threatening to fall. "Yes you did," she said in a whisper. She jiggled her arm free and grabbed her coat. She placed her hand on the door knob but stopped. She released the door knob and turned around. She glanced down at the table full of food. "I'm sorry you had to go through so much trouble," she said with a shaking voice. With that she turned around and left.

Martin sighed; he felt like crying. He knew that he hurt her. He walked over and sat down at the kitchen table and stared at his dinner. He felt guilty and stupid but most of all heartbroken. He loved her more than anybody could fathom but staying with her made him feel inferior and invisible. He couldn't decide what was worse. And now it was too late. The words just flowed out of his mouth; he didn't even think of Samantha as being trouble and hard work. He wasn't thinking. Martin put his forehead in his hand and stared blankly at the uneaten Thanksgiving dinner. He had to go on with his life with knowing he hurt the one person he loved and a guilty conscience. But somehow, getting back with her never crossed his mind.

XxX

Ominous clouds released its rage on the quiet streets and unsuspecting victims of New York.

Samantha purposely strode down the street; her boots against the pavement was the only audible sound. The air was so bitter cold that it was nipping at her nose and ears with such fierce determination.

Everybody was with their families. But not Samantha; she was alone, once again.

Samantha was beginning to get soaking wet. Her curly locks were now straight, dripping strands. Tears ran down her face unnoticeable mixing with the rain. That was one thing that Samantha liked about the rain: When you cried in the rain, nobody would notice.

Samantha began to pick up the pace as she walked down the streets, eventually breaking into a steady jog. Martin's words stung hard. She knew she shouldn't have left anybody in her heart again. Martin had demolished the barriers she worked so hard to create, and with one sentence, the cracked barriers tumbled down on her with a vengeance. She knew from this point on that no man would be able to steal her heart again. She wasn't going to allow it, but that's exactly what she said before she met Martin.

It never occurred to Samantha to take a cab or subway. The only thing she thought about was Martin's burning words replaying in her head like somebody was rewinding a movie. The tears never let up. By the time she reached her apartment, her eyes were red and puffy. Her nose ran like a sprinter in a marathon. Her legs were tired from the seemingly blank walk that she had accidently explored.

Samantha stumbled into her dark apartment. Exhaustion harassed her legs and her being. With her heart aching and no motivation to do anything, not even change her wet jeans and blouse, she climbed into bed and pulled the blanket above her head as if the blanket would cloud out her pain. She lay in her wet bed, slightly shivering, but there was no reason to get out of bed.

She tossed and turned that night; sleep never came no matter how much Samantha willed it. With the sun rising steadily behind the buildings and the birds chirping, Samantha had no need to nourish her body with food. She eventually had lulled herself to sleep long after the sun rose.

XxX

Okay so I know that this is kind of sad and slow, but believe me when I say that it gets a hell of a lot better. So please review and tell me what you thought. You may have ideas or comments….I don't care. Just please review. I won't update until I have some reviews.