The McRae Series 01 - Twelve Days Sam and Rachel

over again. It was like life was showing me one more time that I always lost everything and everyone I'd ever dared to love, and I couldn't run anymore from the idea that no matter what I did, one day I'd lose you, too."
    "You're not going to lose me," she promised.
    "I thought I would. I was sure of it. We were both miserable, and I thought if I was going to lose you anyway, it was better to go ahead and go."
    "You're not going to lose me," she said again. "Although I think maybe I deserve to lose you. All this time, I've been thinking about all the things I didn't have, instead of what was right here in front of me. I feel like I've been blind, like I've been so careless and so ungrateful—"
    "No," he said. "You've just always known exactly what you wanted and where you belonged. It's one of the first things I loved about you. You had this place in the world that was absolutely yours, and you were always sure you could make my own place right beside you. I loved all of your dreams for us. I loved your vision of our life together."
    "But, the children... Sam, I know—"
    "I've always wanted to have children with you. Always. I wasn't sure what kind of father I was going to be, and I was for damned sure scared of having anything to call my own because I was so afraid of losing it. Think about it, Rachel. Until I met you, everything I'd ever loved I'd lost. Except for you, I've still lost everyone else."
    She started to cry again. She'd never thought about it quite that way. "Is there any little bit of hope left inside of you where we're concerned? Any little part of you that thinks this could still work out?"
    He looked as if she'd slugged him, as if he might double over in pain at any moment, but he didn't. He just stood there and looked as if she'd knocked the breath out of him, too.
    "I think about that," he said, "and I come back to the children. What's going to happen to you and me if we lose them, too?"
    "You think I'd fall apart if we lost them?" Rachel straightened her back, lifted her chin. "That I'd just shut down again and push you away? Like I did when we lost Will."
    "I don't know," he said.
    "I'm not going to do that, Sam," she said, although she couldn't blame him in the least for thinking it. "I'd be sad and I'd worry about them, but I'm through sitting here feeling sorry for myself. I've actually learned some things in the past few days. I don't know how to prove that to you. I know you've spent a lot of years taking care of me and trying to hold things together here. I'll understand if you can't do it anymore. I really do want you to be happy now."
    "I can't imagine being happy without you," he said. "I can't imagine being without you at all."
    Which gave her hope, but still, "It's up to you. This time, it's your choice."
    "I don't know what's going to happen, Rachel."
    "We never do. Never."
    "The kids' mother could show up tomorrow."
    "I know. It's what they want. What about you, Sam? Right now? In this moment? What are you waiting for? What do you want?"
    Sam stood there, not moving a muscle. There'd been times in his life when he felt as if he wanted so much and had absolutely nothing to call his own. And there were times when he thought he was asking for so little, surely he ought to be able to have it.
    Right now his whole world seemed so full, here in this house with three children he'd come to love sleeping upstairs and his wife practically in his arms. And it was all balanced so precariously, he felt as if it could slip through his fingertips in an instant. One wrong move, and it would simply disappear.
    His first instinct was to hold on as tightly as he could to her and everything they'd ever shared. There had been joy mingled with all the sorrows, love unlike any he'd ever known.
    He did love her, and he believed more than ever that she actually loved him. He didn't even want to tell her how hard it was for him to believe it—that someone could love him, that it could last. But he supposed she already knew because he'd told her what his life had been like.
    And it seemed they were at a crossroads. Tomorrow was Christmas. He was supposed to go away in a day and a half. He had a feeling if he didn't go then, he never would. And as she'd said, there were no guarantees. Not ever.
    Which meant this was a question of faith, of what was left of their feelings for each other and whether they could muster up any hope that the future could truly be better, different, that what they'd found now