A/N and Disclaimer: I own nothing as always thanks for reading and supporting…Sorry if you remember on the show Samcedes had more than one breakup or hiccup in their relationship and this story mimics the show in that regard.

Chapter 11

Cedes

Nashville, Tennessee

December 20

Cedes could hear the shower running in the next room along with the sound of Sam's voice as he sang in the shower. She turned and saw a tray on the bedside table. There was coffee in a small pot, orange juice in a champagne glass, croissants, bagels, an assortment of muffins, and a note: Didn't want you hangry if you woke up while I was in the shower. : ) Hope you feel a lot better.—Sam.

Cedes smiled back at the note, then reached for the juice. She winced as she swallowed, thinking it would irritate her sore throat, but there was no pain at all. The chicken soup, medicine, and a night of rest had resulted in her feeling better. She listened to the water continue to run in the other room, and Sam's singing voice growing even louder. She felt happy but knew how things had chilled so quickly between them in Vail. She had apologized for the texts Sam had seen from Will, but that didn't change the fact that any reconciliation between her and Sam would not end up spectacularly derailed, especially if Will had his way. And she still hadn't managed to tell him about Grandma Sadie's death, after falling asleep the night before because of the soothing effects of the chicken soup and medication.

When Sam came out of the bathroom with wet hair and wrapped in a robe his greeting almost startled her.

"You don't look like you've tried any pastries or a muffin yet. Is your throat still hurting you?" He picked up a cinnamon and raisin bagel and handed it to her.

Cedes bit into the bagel and let out a moan.

"Aren't they good?" he said. "We used to come here when I was a kid. I'd start begging for the homemade bagels the minute we arrived. Their blueberry bagels were always my favorite, but I know you prefer cinnamon and raisin bagels."

"It's really good," Cedes said.

"Are you feeling better?" Sam asked.

"A whole lot better than I was yesterday," she said, smiling. And it was true but both physically and mentally. It felt like the most natural thing in the world to be eating breakfast in bed in a hotel room with him. When they had arrived back in Nashville, Vail felt like another world. But now, she was feeling safe and comfortable again. Like their time in Colorado really had happened.

They sat still, seemingly unsure of what to say or do next. Suddenly, Cedes became aware of the fact that she wasn't wearing anything under her robe—and neither was he.

Sam seemed to be reading her thoughts. He got up from the bed and stood beside it awkwardly. She smelled the shampoo from his freshly washed hair and wanted to run her hands through it.

"I should really shower now, too," she said as Sam reached forward and brushed some crumbs from her robe. As he did, the edges of her too-big robe fell away. He looked down at the exposed skin, then up into her eyes again. Instead of covering herself, she held his gaze.

"What you are is perfection," Sam said in a husky voice.

Cedes felt that way. Perfectly herself, when they were alone together, and he was acting like the person she felt she had really gotten to know, finally, when it was just the two of them in the middle of nowhere.

"Sam . . ." she began, reaching up and tracing his lips with one of her fingers, unable to stop herself from touching him. She tried to think of some way to put into words everything she was feeling as she felt his breath catch at her touch. But now that he was so close to her, her mind stopped thinking. Her body was in control, and she wanted him. She took her hand away from his face, untied the sash of her robe, and let it drop to the floor.

"Cedes . . ." He moaned at the sight of her naked body, then reached for her and pulled her against him. "I've missed you so much. I need you . . ."

"I need you, too, Sam," she admitted, not quite believing she had said these words to him, forgetting all about what she did or did not believe as she and Sam fell into the cloudlike pillows and soft sheets together and lost themselves in passion, Sam making love to her and treating her as if she was his forever.

When Cedes awoke again the sun was shining bright through the suite's window. Sam was the big spoon behind her, snoring softly as he slept. Could they just stay like this forever? They were only good when they were isolated from others. Unfortunately, the rest of the world was waiting outside the resort. She pressed her body against his and felt him wake. He started kissing her neck, which was all it took to ignite her desire for him again.

Her phone rang on the bedside table, but she ignored it, grinding her butt into his penis to keep him close as their making out intensified. But whoever it was hung up and called back, once, then twice, until finally, a laughing Sam disentangled himself from Cedes and handed her the phone.

"Hello? Mom? Are you okay?"

Sam raised his eyebrows and covered her up with a sheet. Busted, he mouthed as Cedes clutched the phone to her ear.

"I have a surprise for you," her mom said. "I'm here in Nashville!"

"You are where?"

"Here to see you baby girl and spend Christmas with you. I decided it should be a surprise. Otherwise, I know you would have told me not to come."

Cedes knew her mom was right. She had done a good job of ignoring her feelings this past year—and ignoring her mom, too.

"Well, anyway," Marilyn continued, "I just couldn't face Christmas on my own this year. So, your grandfather is with your uncle and his family, and I'm here."

This made perfect sense, and Cedes should have invited her. Of course a grieving single mother would want to come spend the first Christmas without her mother with her only child. Except there was the problem of nothing about their mother-daughter relationship being normal right now. And there was also the problem of Cedes being in bed with Sam Evans at the moment. They still needed to talk. She had to tell him everything.

"Where are you staying, Mom?"

"I'm just pulling up to my hotel in a taxi now. It's pretty fancy; I decided to cheer myself up by finally spending some of the money your grandmother left me in her insurance policy. And I got a big en suite that is so humongous that if you wanted a break from your apartment for a few days, you could definitely come stay with me."

"Where?" Cedes asked again, but she had a terrible feeling she knew exactly where her mother was.

"The Gaylord Opryland Resort & Convention Center! Oh my, it's amazing. Do you want to come meet me? And can you bring Sam with you, too? I'd really like to meet him. Your grandma had such nice things to say about your boyfriend, and I just feel like I need to get properly caught up with you baby girl."

Sam was tracing a pattern on her bare arm. His hand then started to wander beneath the sheets, but she pulled away from him. "Actually, I'm staying at the same hotel as you are, Mom. I was doing a photo shoot here yesterday, and they gave me a room," she lied as she turned her body slightly away from Sam. "I'll meet you in the lobby in twenty minutes, okay?" She hung up before her mom could ask which room she was staying in.

"Well . . ." she began. "My mom is here."

"I figured that out."

He took the phone out of her hand and kissed her gently. "I'd love to meet your mom. Do you think twenty minutes gives us enough time to . . ." He was moving his hand underneath the sheets again but she put her hand on his chest.

"I have to go downstairs and meet her. By myself."

Sam's smile faded. "But I'm sure she'd also be happy to meet your boyfriend. Right? Why did you tell her you were here by yourself?"

"I just figured it wouldn't be your thing. I'm giving you a free pass!" She smiled as big as she could, trying to convince him everything was fine.

Sam was silent, and Cedes wondered if she'd gone too far by shutting him out. But then he picked up his phone and started tapping, looking nonchalant. "At least let me get you two a brunch reservation at my favorite restaurant," he said. He stopped tapping and looked up. "Hey, wait. I'm surprised your grandma didn't join your mom this time?"

Cedes' cheeks were on fire now. She knew she should have told Sam when they were getting close at the cabin, and that now she had left it too long. "Yeah, weird," was all she could manage to say. What in the hell are you doing, Cedes Jones? Why are you self-sabotaging yourself?

She got out of the bed and made a dash for the shower before Sam could see the tears in her eyes.

Marilyn was standing in the lobby of the hotel, right in front of a fully decked-out Christmas tree that sparkled with lights and almost touched the high ceiling. With her dark bobbed hair and bright blue eyes, Marilyn was often mistaken for Cedes' older sister. When she saw her daughter, she waved and rushed toward her.

Camera phones clicked as they hugged. "What in the world," Marilyn murmured into her daughter's ear.

"Since the show and tour, people kind of follow my every move."

Marilyn pulled back and smiled down at her daughter. "You're famous now. It's partly why I wanted to come here. I needed to see it all for myself. Your grandmother's and your dream coming true." Her expression grew serious. "And we need to talk about—"

"Right, so anything heavy we should talk about alone, okay?"

It took all Cedes' strength not to fall apart. She had kept herself so busy all year that she and her mother had never properly discussed what had happened last year. And while Cedes had come to understand her grandma's need to keep her declining health a secret—Grandma Sadie thought knowing the truth would have put Cedes' career at risk—being kept in the dark about Grandma's health still hurt. Cedes had never been able to say a proper goodbye, and her mom could have changed that, if she had wanted to. But now it was too late.

As if reading her thoughts, Marilyn spoke to her daughter in a low voice. "Cedes, I just need you to know, she wasn't going to let me do anything to jeopardize your chances of winning. Please, understand that. I came here to—"

"Not now," Cedes said, her expression full of forced cheer. She heard another camera click. "We can't talk about that here." She spoke through her smile. "You must be hungry. Sam made us a brunch reservation."

Marilyn's expression brightened. "Will he be joining us?"

"He's busy. He sends his regrets."

"Well, I do hope I get to meet him at least once before I go home. Your life is such a mystery to me now."

My life is a mystery to me, too, Cedes thought as they settled themselves into the back of a cab.

"I was hoping to stay over Christmas," Marilyn was saying. "I know you'll be busy but seeing you perform onstage in front of thousands would be a dream come true for your grandmother, and since she's gone, I've found it's become a dream of mine, too."

A lump formed in Cedes's throat. All she could do was nod and stare out the window.

"Well," Cedes finally said as the restaurant came into view. "Nice to have family around for Christmas. Almost as good as being . . ." She had been about to say home but the word dried up in her throat.

Her Grandma had been home to her. She was the only family member who supported her in achieving her dreams.

And seeing her mother only reminded her of this—which was why, fair or not, Cedes had been avoiding her mother for almost a year.

Soon, they were pulling up to the front of Josephine. It had been Sam's favorite place to have holiday brunch with his mother. "Make sure you get the apple pockets," he said before she left the hotel room. "No, wait, be sure to order the cinnamon sugar donuts. No, wait, order the biscuit plate with crab cakes and some cane patch syrup."

Inside the restaurant, Christmas carols were playing on the speakers and the atmosphere was warm and festive. The host gave Cedes and Marilyn led them to a table in a quiet corner, with a view of the sunny street. As Cedes had predicted, a few photographers had gotten wind of her arrival.

"How do you get used to that?" Marilyn asked her as soon as they were seated.

"You just do," Cedes said, even though that wasn't exactly true. After the quiet week in Vail, she was finding all the attention hard to become accustomed to again. She tapped her fingers on the table along to the beat of the Brenda Lee's "Rockin Around the Christmas Tree" to distract herself.

"I'm so proud of you," Marilyn continued. "But I am also worried, too."

"Why would you be worried?" Cedes picked up the menu, so she could avoid her mother's eyes.

"I can sit here with you and smile and pretend it's all fine, but I know you, and I love you, and while you're smiling on the outside, your eyes tell a different story. We have to talk, and I mean really talk." Marilyn paused, and angled herself away from a photographer who had come right up to the window. "We've been at odds for far too long, and of course when you came home last year after the finale, with what had happened with your grandmother, we both needed time to grieve. And then, when you stopped in during your tour, it was just for a minute. I know you're upset with me for not telling you how sick your grandmother was. The flashbulbs going off outside the window interrupted her mother. They watched out the window as a dark-haired man moved through the crowd toward the front door of the restaurant. Then Marilyn's mouth dropped open. "Oh, my goodness. Is that Sam? But you said he wasn't coming!"

Sam parted what had become a sea of photographers and glided into the restaurant. He smiled hesitantly when he caught Cedes' eye, and held up two bouquets of flowers. Any normal person would have been overjoyed to see him. She forced a big smile—flash, flash—as she wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans. Sam placed a bouquet beside her mother's plate, then Cedes', before taking Marilyn's hand. "It is so nice to finally meet you, Miz Jones."

"Please, call me Marilyn," Cedes' mom said as she bristled with pleasure.

"Coffee, Mr. Evans?" the server asked immediately.

"I've already had coffee today. But they have the best mimosas here this side of Nashville, and I'm kind of in the mood." He raised an eyebrow at Cedes, and now she was the one who look embarrassed despite her mood. "Maybe a round of those. Since we're celebrating and all."

"What are we celebrating, honey?" Cedes asked.

"Me finally getting to meet your mom. After meeting Sadie already—who, by the way, I miss and wish could be here—it seems to be about time to meet your mom, too, doesn't it?"

"I miss her, too," Marilyn said, while Cedes stared down at the tablecloth. "And that's nice of you to say, Sam. Yes, let's order a round of mimosas. In Sadie's honor."

The mimosas arrived in short order, and Cedes did not get her Christmas wish that the ground would open up and swallow her before they did. It wasn't that she wasn't happy to be near Sam, or even that she didn't want to introduce him to Marilyn. It was just that she still hadn't told Sam the truth about grandma's death, still hadn't fully absorbed the painful truth herself. And now it all felt like it was closing in on her.

Sam raised his champagne flute, and Cedes and Marilyn followed suit. "A toast," he began. "To Sadie."

"Yes," Marilyn said, her voice full of emotion. "May she rest in peace."

The next few moments were a blur.

Sam was so shocked he spat out his sip of mimosa, and it seemed like every server in the restaurant rushed over with a napkin to help him clean up the mess. When the chaos finally cleared, Sam was looking at Cedes imploringly. And all Cedes could do was stare down at the stained white tablecloth and shake her head.

She had to hand it to Sam. He was a good actor. After the initial outburst, which he pretended was just a bad swallow, he acted like he wasn't shocked to hear the news. Because, of course, if he really were her boyfriend—which everyone, even her own mother, believed—this wouldn't be news to him. He would already know that on the night they won America's Newest Star and Cedes got the biggest career break of her life, she also suffered the biggest heartbreak of her life.

After the meal, Marilyn excused herself to go to the restroom, and Sam turned to Cedes. "I'm so sorry to hear this," he said. "I had no idea. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I just . . . couldn't."

"But we spent so much time together last week. You couldn't open up to me?"

"I wanted to. I really did." It didn't sound convincing as she said it—because it wasn't exactly the truth. In Vail, she had been happy for the first time in a long while. She had wanted it to stay that way, and that decision had been a mistake. "It was just too painful," Cedes began, while Sam's expression remained anguished.

Marilyn was already returning, and he shook his head to compose himself, then signaled to the server for the bill.

"Smile for the camera, Cedes!" one of the paparazzi called out as they left the restaurant hand in hand. Cedes did—but she knew there was no hiding it. Her grief had cracked open. It was written all over her face, and there was no going back.

Sam

Nashville, Tennessee

December 21

By morning Sam was still trying to sort through the whiplash of the past couple of days. First, there was the time he and Cedes spent at the Gaylord Opryland Resort & Convention Center. Heaven. It had been a much-needed boost for Sam, after how his and Cedes's time in Vail had ended. He'd accepted and appreciated her apology, and as far as he was concerned, that was the end of that. Sam wouldn't let Will ruin things again. But then things were upended once more, when he learned of her grandmother's death. Sam had been both devastated for Cedes and upset she hadn't trusted him enough to share her heartbreak.

But could he really blame her? Sam hadn't exactly been around. He'd taken off to Vail, not returned a single one of her calls, and acted like a selfish entitled jerk. Sam decided he didn't care anymore about what (or who) may have led Cedes to come to Vail; it was ancient history now. All that mattered was she had shown up, they had had an incredible week, and he was crazy about her.

All he could do now was prove to her that he was there for her—that she could count on him, no matter what.

"I have some making up to do, Mac," Sam said to his dog, the two of them alone in the studio. Unable to sleep, he'd decided to head in early, and had been inspired to start a new sculpting project for Cedes.

Sam started to get his art supplies out of the bag she had given him last Christmas and then starting texting on his phone.

Good Morning—can't wait to get our songwriting vibe going.

His finger hovered as he tried to decide which emoji to close with. A heart? (Too much?) A winky face? (Too cocky?) A musical note? (He was trying too hard.) He chose the smiley face, then pressed send.

A moment later his phone pinged and he saw her reply.

See you soon.

Sam frowned. Sure, it was hard to convey warmth via text, but that was a blunt reply. Something felt off.

What's going on with you, Cedes Jones?

By eight-thirty Cedes still hadn't arrived, and Sam was concerned. He checked his phone again, but she hadn't texted him since her last message.

Sam was sure Cedes knew what time rehearsal started at eight—they'd discussed it yesterday after brunch, before she'd left with her mom.

He called, but it went straight to voicemail.

"Hope she's alright," Sam murmured.

He paced the room, trying her phone again but it went to voicemail again. With a sigh of frustration Sam set his phone down and picked up his guitar.

"Morning, Sammy E. Where's Cedes?" April poked her head in the studio. She had a meeting with Lauren, Will, and the rest of the America's Newest Star crew today. Something about the run of the show for the Christmas special, she had explained.

"She's on her way," Sam replied, and continued strumming softly, the feel and rhythm of his fingers on the guitar strings almost meditatively.

"Okay. Well, I just saw Will heading upstairs looking all business-like," April said, tapping her fingers against the door.

"We're ready," Sam said, wishing they could do this without Will's presence.

April nodded and went to leave, then turned back. "Well done again on the whole 'totally in love' thing," she said. "You two really sold it. I didn't think you had it in you."

Right after April left, Sam's phone dinged again. The text was from an unknown number, and simply said:

FYI, your "girlfriend" isn't who she is pretending to be . . .

"What the hell?" The message also contained a link, within which Sam could see both Cedes' and Will's names. He was hesitant to click it. This was his personal phone, and only so many people had the number. But it was strange that whoever sent the text, and link, hadn't identified themselves.

Who is this? Sam typed back. He felt compelled to click the link, but had the sense he wasn't going to like what he saw once he did.

No answer arrived, no dots showing there would be one. Sam stopped debating whether he was opening a virus or not, then opened the link. His eyes scanned the article, widening when he got to the photo buried in its middle. A photo—a bit grainy, a bit dark—of Cedes and Will looking awfully close on a couch. Their heads were so close together Sam had to zoom in to make sure they weren't actually kissing. He felt a hit of relief to see they weren't, though with barely an inch between their bodies, it was possible that they had just been or were about to. Either way, it was clearly an intimate moment.

He read the article twice, his anger seething; his disbelief gone.

BREAKING #Willcedes NEWS: Is There Trouble in Paradise? Cedes Jones, We Know What You Did Last Summer . . .

Moments ago, an anonymous source leaked this verified photo of Sam Evans' girlfriend, Cedes Jones, and top Nashville producer Will Schuester getting hot and heavy at Coachella last summer. Was Sam Evans only a ruse to distract viewers from the extramarital affair going on during the taping of the show. Were we being pushed #Samcedes as a smokescreen? The two were leading separate lives at the time, with Evans holed up at his songwriting retreat in Colorado and Jones on tour as The Tana Lopez's opening act. But we still believed they were the happy couple we'd seen win America's Newest Star months earlier. Or were they? Not long after, a rumor began to swirl that maybe the whole thing was faked or broken up by Dwight Evans' disapproval. . . Could it be true? #Samcedes, a sham or did Mercedes rebound with the married Will Schuester?

Combined with photos taken this morning of Sam and an upset-looking Cedes with an unidentified woman some sources say is Cedes' mother, Marilyn Jones, it seems that something most definitely is amiss. Are those tears in Cedes' eyes? Does she really look like a woman who is brunching with the love of her life and her loving mother?

Now take a look at Schuester and Jones all up on each other on that couch and try to tell us we're not seeing what we think we are. When ANS-Scoop reached out to Will Schuester for a comment, here's what the lawsuit-embroiled married Broadway producer and mega record producer had to say: "Cedes had confided in me about a death in the family; she was heartbroken, obviously, and I was only comforting her."

We'll keep doing our best to reach our #Samcedes stars, or their reps, for a statement! Hang on to your hearts, there's surely more to come . . .

His jaw tensed as he stared at the photo, wanting to disbelieve what he was seeing. But pictures didn't lie, right? Then the texts on Cedes' phone from Will popped into his mind, and he couldn't ignore it any longer: the two had been conspiring against him. He'd been manipulated, and he'd let it happen. He thought about Cedes's apology at the hotel. Had it been merely a tactic? Well, if it was, he had fallen for it: hook, line, and sinker. He felt sick to his stomach, thinking about what a fool he'd been.

As the anger, hurt, and embarrassment bloomed in his gut, Sam knew he had to get out of there. Right now.

He had just packed up his guitar when he heard: "Sam? Where are you going?"

Cedes stood in the doorway, bundled in layers, a confused look on her face.

"You're late," Sam said.

"Yeah, I'm sorry." Cedes looked at the clock on the wall—it was 8:41 a.m. "I had breakfast with my mom and traffic was . . . It doesn't matter. I'm here now. And Will is stuck in a meeting apparently. But you look like you're leaving?"

"Well, I am not staying here." He barked out a short, mirthless laugh. She looked even more confused now. Sam pulled out his phone, open to the article with the photo of Cedes and Will. He held it out, watched as the color drained from her face as she quickly read through the caption on the photo.

Cedes shook her head. "You can't believe this?"

"Are you saying it is not true?"

But Cedes seemed not to hear him. "Lauren texted, telling me to call her right away. I was with my mom and I didn't think . . ."

"Looks to me like you and Will got pretty darn cozy at Coachella," Sam said. "You know, even with the creepy ass age difference and his marital status, you two don't look half bad together. No, really," he added, "I think this is a good look for you, Cedes. At least for your career. I mean, sleeping with a married man who left his last wife for this same show's past winner, Rachel Berry Schuester. Wow, so classy." Sam whistled softly. "So glad he could be there for you in your time of need."

They stared at one another.

"You don't know what the hell you're talking about," Cedes replied. "Nothing happened between Will and me."

Sam laughed then. "Ha! Oh, you keep telling yourself that, sweetheart. But this picture tells a different story. According to some updates to this article, sources are now saying you two are a serious item and that he is divorcing Rachel for you. "

"You are the last person on earth who should believe some tabloid story!" Cedes crossed her arms, her eyes shining with anger. "Nothing happened between Will and me. He was drunk, and I got stuck in a room with him, and he got a bit handsy."

When he shook his head in disbelief. "Why won't you believe me? After everything? Besides, even if something had happened, and it never would, you and I, well, we were nothing at that point in time."

"Exactly, we were nothing. We are nothing. If Will is your type, your confidant, as much as that makes me feel like vomiting," Sam said, "who am I to stop true love?"

Cedes was close to tears now, and he couldn't stand to see her upset. But he steeled himself; she had brought this upon herself, and all he wanted now was to get as far away from her as he could.

"Please, Sam, you're not listening to me. Will had—"

"Save it. I'm leaving." He slung his guitar over his shoulder, and picking up McConaughey's carrier, he strode toward the studio's door.

"We have to rehearse the song! Sam, stop, please. Would you just please stop? What do you expect me to tell Will?"

"Is that all you care about?" Her saying his name made him even colder. "Make something up. You're good at that."

"Whatever, Sam," Cedes called out after him. "Do what you always do, run away and let everyone else pick up the pieces!"

Sam kept walking, held up an arm and gave a wave without turning around.