Love Is Always Write Volume 4

worry, I ordered the card off the internet so there was no handwriting or anything. So she'll definitely think it's from you."
    Nick knew that he was staring at Sam agog, but he was having trouble figuring out just how utterly horrendous this was. If only Sam had got him that butt plug instead.
    "Are you kidding?" He looked directly at Sam. Please let him be kidding. The expression on Sam's face told him that was wishful thinking. Oh God.
    "No. I knew how much you wanted to be in touch with her. And I knew how bloody stubborn you were being about it, so I decided to get the ball rolling so to speak."
    "I can't believe you did that." Nick murmured.
    " I know . But hey, you're welcome." Sam beamed.
    "No, I mean I can't fucking believe you did that."
    The grin slipped from Sam's face as Nick spat the words out. "What the hell were you thinking? Did it ever occur to you that I would get back in touch with Libby in my own time? Not when you decided?"
    Sam blinked hard a couple of times before staring down at his bowl. His jaw twitched.
    "Seriously Sam, I need to try and get this straight. You actually sent a card from me to Libby?"
    Sam looked up, his pale blue eyes glassy. "And a hundred pounds worth of vouchers," he said miserably. He shook his head. "I thought you'd be pleased."
    "Jesus Christ, I can't believe I'm hearing this." Nick was pushing Sam towards a precipice and once he fell there would be no going back. But he couldn't stop. "Nice one Sam. Nice fucking birthday present. Sending a hundred fucking pounds to my daughter. Did you get in touch with my missus too? Try and get us back together so we can play happy families?" His voice was getting louder.
    Sam shrugged. "I didn't like to see you unhappy, so I tried to do something nice for you. But maybe I shouldn't have bothered."
    "No, maybe you shouldn't," Nick muttered.
    Sam squared his shoulders and looked straight at Nick. "Well, you know what? Fuck you! Fuck you and your fucking pride. No wonder you haven't got a relationship with your daughter, you're too bloody self-obsessed. You only ever think about yourself. I thought you were better than my dad, but guess what? You're not!" Sam was usually animated in conversation but this was something else. His arms started flailing about.
    Nick glanced around to see if anyone was looking, but Sam wasn't stopping now. "I spent so many birthdays wishing he'd send me a present. Or a card. Or something. Anything . But he never did. So...well...fuck him. He's a lost cause. Or maybe I'm the lost cause. I dunno...whatever...but I thought Libby deserved more. And if truth be told, I thought maybe you deserved more too. But it turns out..." another shake of the arms. "...you don't."
    The chair scraped against the tiled floor as Sam stood, pushing his feet back into his trainers. His cheeks blazed. "You deserve to be miserable and sad and on your own because you're a selfish fucking prick who doesn't care about anyone but himself."
    Well, that told him.
    ****
    By the time Nick managed to drag his arse back home on the bus, Sam was gone. And so were most of his things. All the stuff that had slowly crept its way into Nick's life had remarkably disappeared in less than an hour. Sam had even picked his pants off the floor, something which had never happened when he'd been 'living' with Nick.
    Nick went to the kitchen to grab a beer, tiptoeing over a certain patch of carpet. Bloody hell. If he avoided every place in the house that reminded him of one of his and Sam's sweaty encounters, he'd be left with a very small living space.
    Even though the sofa should be a no-go area, he'd have to sleep there tonight. At least that only reminded him of sex. The bed reminded him of other more important things: his fingers lightly stroking Sam's hair, Sam's incessant talking even in his sleep, Sam bouncing up and down with excitement about his birthday present.
    That bloody birthday present. Nick let out a shaky breath. Maybe Sam was right. Maybe he was too selfish to have any kind of meaningful relationship with anyone. If he'd reached out to Libby in his own time would he ever have reached out at all? The thought made him flinch a little. Of course not. What had been stopping him all this time? The same thing that had stopped him from wanting to be seen out with Sam – his own fucking pride. His pride in what?
    He looked around the room. It looked strangely empty without Sam in it. Just like his life.
    ****
    For the next three weeks Nick